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Then he held out his pinkie.
And suddenly I was six again.
Raisins.
Dinosaurs.
A cruel little boy.
A promise I had forgotten that afternoon and somehow spent 12 years keeping anyway.
And suddenly I was six again.
I hooked my pinkie around his.
“Prom?”
Noah nodded.
“Prom.”
Then his entire face lit up.
“I already bought the bow tie.”
I blinked. “When?”
“November.”
“Noah, it was November.”
“Exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“Stores run out of things,” he said.
“I already bought the bow tie.”
“They were not going to run out of bow ties.”
“You don’t know that.”
That was how Noah officially asked me to prom.
***
On prom night, I was upstairs fighting with an earring when the doorbell rang.
My aunt called up.
“Chrissy! He’s here!”
“Tell him two minutes!”
“Chrissy! He’s here!”
From just beyond the front door, Noah’s voice filtered in.
“She said that 15 minutes ago!”
Traitor.
I finished the earring and checked myself in the mirror.
Pretty dress.
Hair curled.
Makeup that had taken my aunt almost an hour.
I was nervous.
Not about Noah.
About everything else.
I was nervous.
Prom had always seemed like one of those things that happened to older people.
Then suddenly I was the older person.
I grabbed my purse.
Before I reached the stairs, I heard Mom open the front door.
Then silence.
Not normal silence.
The kind that makes you stop moving.
Prom had always seemed like one of those things that happened to older people.
I stepped closer to the landing.
Noah stood in the entryway.
Navy suit.
White shirt.
That ridiculous bow tie perfectly straight.
In one hand, he held a small corsage.
He was smiling.
Mom wasn’t.
She was staring at him.
“Mrs. Jane?”
Mom blinked. “Oh. Noah. Hi.”
In one hand, he held a small corsage.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
But she wasn’t.
I knew my mother.
Something had changed the second she saw him.
Her eyes dropped to the corsage.
Then to his bow tie.
Then back to his face.
For one strange second, she looked like she’d seen a ghost.
Something had changed the second she saw him.
“Chrissy is almost ready,” she said quickly.
“I am ready.”
Mom turned and saw me on the stairs.
Her face changed again.
“Come upstairs with me.”
“What?”
“Just for a minute.”
“Mom, Noah’s waiting.”
“I know.”
Noah lifted the corsage. “I have this.”
“I can see that,” I said.
“It’s rosemary.”
“Come upstairs with me.”
I paused halfway down.
“Rosemary?”
“The florist said it means remembering.” He looked extremely pleased with himself. “And I remember promises.”
My heart sank.
Mom made a small sound behind me.
When I turned, her eyes were wet.
“Mom?”
“Upstairs, Chrissy.”
This time she didn’t ask.
“And I remember promises.”
***
The second we entered my bedroom, she shut the door.
Then locked it.
“Okay, you’re scaring me, Mom.”
She faced me.
“You can go with Noah tonight, but only on one condition.”
Anger hit me before fear did.
“If this is about Noah having Down syndrome, I swear to God…”
“Okay, you’re scaring me, Mom.”
“No.”
“Because I’m 18, Mom.”
“I know.”
“He’s my best friend.”
“I know that too.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Mom pressed her lips together.
For several seconds, she couldn’t speak.
Finally, she sat on my bed.
“Do you remember the year your father left?”
The question caught me off guard.
“He’s my best friend.”
“What does Dad have to do with prom?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are we talking about him?”
“Because there’s something that happened that year.”
I folded my arms.
“What?”
Mom looked toward the floor.
“You were 12.”
“I know.”
“You stopped eating lunch.”
My arms slowly dropped.
“How do you know that?”
“Because there’s something that happened that year.”
“Noah told me.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
“He found me one afternoon.”
“Where?”
“In the school parking lot.”
Something in her expression made the room feel suddenly smaller.
“He caught me crying in the car,” Mom admitted.
I sat beside her.
“Mom…”
“He found me one afternoon.”
“I thought nobody saw me.” She rubbed her palms together. “But Noah did.”
Downstairs, faintly, I heard Noah laugh at something my aunt said.
Mom heard it too.
Her face crumpled for half a second before she controlled it.
“What did he say to you?” I urged.
“I thought nobody saw me.”
She looked at me.
“He asked me if you were broken.”
My breath caught. “Why?”
“Because you weren’t eating, sweetie. You weren’t laughing. He said you sat by yourself sometimes.”
I looked toward the door.
I’d forgotten most of those lunches.
Apparently Noah hadn’t.
“What did you tell him?”
“He asked me if you were broken.”
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