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— To proms and custom dresses

If someone had told me a year ago that Theo freaking Souquet—the boy who once showed up to my birthday party in a mud-stained T-shirt and called it “earth-toned fashion”—would be my prom date, I’d have laughed hard enough to snort Sprite out of my nose. Yet, here I was, standing in front of my mirror in a red dress that looked like it had been spun out of every Disney princess’s dream sequence, ready for prom… with him.

To his credit, Theo had actually asked me out first this time. Like, with actual words. Out loud. Before Gabriel could swoop in with his usual “I already put your name on my RSVP, hope you don’t mind.” sweetness.

But Theo—miracle of miracles—beat him to it. I’d almost fainted, except Isabelle, his mother-slash-saint-slash-fashion-wizard, had immediately started making me a custom dress. The woman could turn fabric into art, and somehow she made me look like the main character in a fairytale that was slightly off-beat but charmingly so—just like me, probably.

And honestly? The night was a blast. Theo wasn’t half bad when he tried. He even danced without stepping on me (more than twice, which counts as progress), and for the first time ever, I didn’t have to be the one reminding him that tuxedos and sneakers weren’t “a statement.”

The best part, though, was discovering that the cousins had this prom tradition. Apparently, it’s a family thing that involves… well, let’s just say it’s chaos, part rush, and part questionable life decisions. Thanks to their brilliant coordination—or lack thereof—I somehow got to fulfill that tradition not once but twice.

So yeah. My first prom? Unexpectedly magical. A little ridiculous, definitely messy, but magical all the same. And as I twirled in Isabelle’s red masterpiece under the disco lights with Theo grinning at me like he’d just discovered I was more fun than his Xbox, I had to admit—this might just go down as the best “godforsaken reason” I’d ever said yes to