“Chrissy?”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember first grade?”
I decided to tease him.
“Not really.”
His face fell so quickly that I immediately regretted it.
Then he slowly raised one hand.
His pinkie was extended.
And suddenly everything came rushing back.
The raisin boxes.
The playground.
That boy’s cruel comment.
Our promise.
I stared at his pinkie.
“Prom?”
Noah grinned.
“Prom.”
I hooked my finger around his.
Then he added proudly,
“I already bought my bow tie.”
I blinked.
“When?”
“November.”
I laughed.
“Noah, prom wasn’t even close in November.”
He shrugged.
“Stores run out of things.”
“They weren’t going to run out of bow ties.”
He gave me a suspicious look.
“You don’t know that.”
And just like that, a childhood promise I’d almost forgotten became our actual plan.
Part 3 — Rosemary
Prom night arrived faster than either of us expected.
I was halfway down the staircase when the doorbell rang.
Mom opened the door.
Noah stood on the porch wearing his navy suit and the famous bow tie.
It was perfectly straight.
In one hand, he held a small corsage.
