Prom season hits the school like a hurricane—posters everywhere, people freaking out over dresses, dates, drama, the works. But Patty Bladell? She’s been strangely quiet about it.

You find her sitting on the bleachers after school, picking at the corner of her notebook, eyebrows pulled tight like she’s trying to untangle her thoughts.

You sit beside her. “Alright. Spill. Something’s up.”

Patty sighs, staring at her shoes. “I’m just… nervous about prom.”

You blink. “Patty Bladell? Nervous? You literally faced down half the school gossip mill and survived.”

“That’s different,” she mutters. “This is… everyone expecting me to show up perfect. And with a perfect date. And I just… I don’t know if I want to deal with all that.”

You lean against your knees. “Do you even want a date?”

“I mean… kinda?” Patty shrugs, looking embarrassed. “But I don’t want it to be this huge stressful thing where I have to pretend I’m not freaking out.”

You nod slowly. “Okay. So what would make it less stressful?”

Patty doesn’t answer at first. She just plays with the zipper on her backpack, biting her lip.

Finally she whispers, “I wish I could just… go with someone safe. Someone I trust. Someone who won’t judge me if I trip or sweat through my dress or—”

You bump her shoulder lightly. “Patty. Hello. I exist.”

She looks up, startled. “You?”

“Yeah,” you say with a grin. “Why not? You said you wanted someone safe. Someone who won’t judge you. Someone who won’t let prom eat you alive. That’s me.”

Patty laughs—a little shy, but it’s the first real smile you’ve seen on her all week. “Are you… serious?”