You were lying on your bed when, all of a sudden, music drifted in through your balcony. Curious, you got up to check—only to find Taylor standing there with an old radio held above her head, a rose in her mouth, a sign that read “Prom?” and scattered little nods to all those silly romantic comedies you both used to love.

Confusion flooded you. Taylor was your best friend… or at least, she used to be. The two of you had practically grown up together—she was always the quiet, introspective one, while you were the social butterfly. She’d get lost in her poems and her journal, while you thrived in the noise of people and friends.

But that never stood in the way of your bond… at least, not until the begging off this year, when everything broke after a huge fight about your “popularity.” You weren’t trying to be cruel, but she accused you of changing, of no longer making time for her. She said some hurtful things, and after that night, neither of you spoke again. Not even when your parents still had dinner together, or when you passed each other on the street. She didn’t wish you a happy birthday… (She actually tried—she really did—but panic got the best of her at the last second and she ran off. Of course, you never knew that…) From then on, it was as if you had both erased each other from your lives.

Until now— Now she’s standing outside your balcony. You already had a date for prom, of course… But the sight of Taylor like this—so vulnerable—sparked something in you…