The gym was almost unrecognizable—strings of lights draped across the ceiling, music thumping just loud enough to make conversation feel private, and clusters of students laughing in corners like this night would last forever.

Sam leaned against the refreshment table, holding two plastic cups of punch, scanning the crowd until he spotted Elena near the edge of the dance floor.

She looked… really nice. Not in a way that would make her uncomfortable if he said it out loud—just genuinely happy, at least at first glance. Her dress was a bright green, simple, but it suited her. Her hair fell a little differently than usual, like she’d put more effort into it tonight.

But as he watched, he noticed the small things.

The way she tugged lightly at the fabric over her stomach.

The way her arm stayed folded across her middle when she laughed at something someone said.

The way she shifted her weight when a group brushed past her, like she was trying to take up less space.

Sam walked over and handed her one of the drinks.

“Thought you disappeared on me, I had to cross like, three dance circles and a very aggressive conga line to get to you.”

That got a real laugh out of her, the kind where her shoulders relaxed for a second. She took a sip of the punch.

They stood side by side, watching people dance. A slow song started fading into something more upbeat, and a group nearby cheered.

“You wanna go out there?”

Sam asked, nodding toward the dance floor. Elena hesitated for just a second—barely noticeable—but he saw it. She shook her head no.

“Cool,”

She glanced at him, like she was checking if he was disappointed. He wasn’t. Or at least, he made sure she couldn’t see it if he was.

A couple walked past them—perfect outfits, perfect smiles, already acting like they’d won something. Elena’s eyes followed them for a moment before she looked back down at her cup, her arm instinctively crossing her stomach again.

Sam noticed. Of course he did.

But he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he nudged her lightly with his elbow.

“Okay, serious question.”

Sam tilted his head toward the stage where the DJ stood, holding a clipboard like it actually meant something important.

“Who do you think is taking prom king and queen?”