That was what Noah did.
He never had the perfect speech.
He never tried to solve my problems.
He simply stayed until things hurt less.
So when senior prom finally came around, going with Noah didn’t feel like honoring some childish promise out of sympathy.
He was my best friend.
There was genuinely nobody else I wanted beside me.
That evening, Noah arrived wearing a dark suit and a bow tie he had apparently chosen months earlier.
He stood on our front porch holding my corsage and smiling like he had just won the World Series.
Mom answered the door.
The moment she saw him, her expression changed.
Her smile disappeared.
For several seconds, she simply stared at Noah.
Then she forced herself to smile again.
“Christina’s almost ready.”
She turned and hurried upstairs.
I was standing in front of my mirror putting on my earrings when Mom entered my bedroom.
Before I could ask what was wrong, she shut the door.
Then she locked it.
I stared at her reflection in the mirror.
“Mom?”
She turned toward me.
“You can still go to prom with Noah tonight.”
I laughed nervously.
“Okay…”
“But only under one condition.”
I assumed she was about to give me the usual parent speech.
“No drinking? Home by midnight?”
“No.”
Her hands were trembling.
My smile faded.
“Then what?”
Mom walked over and sat on the edge of my bed.
