By the time Mom and I were home that night, I didn’t feel like calling Jake or Saxon. I unzipped the bag that hung on the back of my closet door, a long white bag that held my blue dress. I pressed my face to the soft tulle of the skirt and sighed. Like a girl. Long and contented. I was thrilled that I could appreciate small happinesses. Like the most incredible dress in the world.

My phone rang, and it took me a minute to fumble it out of my purse, so by the time I had it in my hand, there was no time to check and see who was calling.

“Hey Bren!” It was Kelsie.

“Hey! I just got the most beautiful dress for Jake’s prom. Please come over later and love it with me.” I pressed my face against it again.

“Ohmygod!” she squealed. “Tell me what it looks like.”

Then Kelsie and I spent a good fifteen minutes talking about my fabulous dress, right down to the tiny crystal flower centers.

“I have to see it,” she said finally. “Listen, it’s so weird you got that dress, because I was calling about prom; Chris has this good friend whose date ditched him and he’s, like, heartbroken. Anyway, he’s had this little crush on you, and I was wondering if you might be willing to go with him? Please?”

“Um, when is it?” I felt a little nervous. Kelsie had a big heart. A big, big heart, and she tended to see people in their best lights. Like a really creepy, moody guy could be, in Kelsie’s eyes, a misunderstood sweetie. It was refreshing and admirable. Unless you are the crushed-on blind date of said psycho/sweetheart. “And do I know this guy?”

“It’s Nate. From the Folly show. Remember Nate? And it’s in three weeks.”

I did remember Nate, and I sighed with relief as I called up the memory of him. A genuinely nice guy with a lot of tattoos and facial metal. And, since Vo Tech’s prom was in two weeks, I could go as long as Mom said yes. Which she would, no question, since it was technically ‘dating other guys.’ I grinned to myself when I imagined her jaw drop over Nate’s neck tattoos.

“I’ll ask Mom, but I’m almost sure it’s a go. Can you hang out later?” I know it was selfish and shallow, but I wanted her to see my dress.

“Yes!” she cried. “If your mom’s cool with it, I can come over Sunday.”

“Perfect.” Jake worked all day Sunday at Zinga’s. I would still get to see him after his short shift on Saturday.

I went to find Mom when I got off of the phone and ask about the other prom. She was practically bursting with maternal pride.

“Two proms? That’s wonderful, sweetie. It will be so much fun for you!” She pursed her lips.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s just…the dress.” She took a deep breath and sighed.

And I felt my heart sink a little. It was kind of a ta-da dress. Not really one I’d want to wear twice in two weeks. Or, more to the point, not one I’d want to wear in front of my friends and another guy and also for Jake.

“It would be crazy to buy another one,” I insisted, stifling Mom’s eager, wide-eyed suggestion-to-be. “Maybe I have something in my closet,” I suggested, though super formal wear wasn’t really something I had in abundance.

“Oh, I do!” Mom cried. “I have something perfect! Come on.” She pulled me up to her room.

Mom and Thorsten’s room was huge and airy. There was just the big white bed, two blonde pine dressers and a big matching armoire that had their TV in it. Some of Mom’s black and white pictures were hanging in silver frames. Most of them featured me.

She led me to the walk-in closet she and Thorsten shared; or, more appropriately, the big walk-in closet that she dominated. Thorsten had about a foot of space for his whole wardrobe, and Mom’s stuff popped out everywhere else. She pawed through hangers, holding things out now and then and rubbing them appreciatively before she moved to the next thing. Mom was a little bit of a fashion fanatic, so she had a ton of great stuff. Finally she gave a happy shriek and pulled something out.

“Look, Bren. What do you think?”

It was perfect. It was a Mandarin style dress, form-fitting red silk with butterfly closures at the neck. It looked like it would fit.

“I love it.” Before I knew it, Mom stripped me down like I was six years old and had the dress wiggled over my head. It fell in a whoosh of fabric that rubbed against my skin like flower petals. She spun me so that I was facing the mirror on the back of her door, and I took my own breath away.

The dress for Jake’s prom was pure princess loveliness, but this dress was hot siren sexiness.

“You look incredible.” Mom gave me a quick, hard hug. “I have the perfect black pearl drop earrings. I love it.”

Mom decided that the waist needed to be taken in a little, so she pinned me and then got me out of the dress and shooed me away so she could sew.

When I got to my room, I caught my phone on the last ring.

“Hello,” I gasped.

Jake laughed, and I felt a low, sweet heat in my stomach. “Hey, Bren. Were you running?”

“When I heard the phone.” I unzipped the bag over my dress and trailed my fingers over the tulle. “Mom and I got a killer dress for the prom.”

“I can’t wait to see you in it. What’s the color?”

“Blue. Light blue.” Then I imagined a horrible fake blue rose wrist corsage. “That doesn’t mean you have to get me a blue flower, you know.”

He laughed again. “Don’t worry. Nothing tacky, I promise.”

And I felt a tiny smidge of guilt when I worried that he wouldn’t know for sure if something was tacky or not.

“So, about prom…”

“Yeah?” I could hear him attempting to keep it cool, be calm, not jump to conclusions, but the remnants of the past few months still had our nerves scraped raw.

“Frankford’s is a week after VoTech’s, and Nate, from Folly, his date just cancelled on him. Kelsie told him I didn’t have a date.” I was not about to ask permission. But I was also letting him know. Getting the balance perfect wasn’t easy, but I was working on it.

“Do you think seeing this wannabe rocker in a tux will make you fall in love? Or lust?” Jake’s voice was mostly joking, but there was a sliver of seriousness in it.

“Absolutely not. He’s not remotely my type. Though it iskind of sexy that he’s in a band.”

“Did I ever tell you I played the flutaphone when I was in third grade? My music teacher said I had real potential.”

“You never told me you rocked a plastic recorder! Why did you give it up?” I inwardly cringed at the memory of my entire class whistling shrilly on our toy instruments. How had our music teachers been able to stand it? Not to mention our parents.

“After I mastered ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb,’ nothing else really inspired me. I think it was a mistake to put ‘Three Blind Mice’ after ‘Mary.’”

I laughed. “So you traded your rockstar aspirations and became a motocross freak?”

“Music didn’t have enough danger for me.” Jake chuckled. “I might have to shake this Nate character down before you go out with him. You’re ridiculously hot in everyday clothes. I don’t really want to think what you’re going to do to this poor guy when you’re all dressed up.”

“No shakedowns. Nate’s a nice guy, and I don’t want you freaking him out,” I warned. “And you know you can trust me.”

Jake didn’t hesitate for a single beat. “I know that.”

“Thank you.” I didn’t have to say it, but I liked him to know that I did appreciate his willingness to trust me, even after I’d screwed up.

“No problem. So, can I see you tomorrow night? Or do you have a meet or a practice or something?”

I was technically part of the spring track team, but since distance was my thing, I didn’t really shine, so it was easier to wiggle out of things like practice.

“I can get off. Do you have something particular in mind?” I fell back on my bed and listened for his voice.

“Nope.” I could hear his smile through the phone. “Just a lot of you.”