Chapter 2 — The Push to Go

Mia

I stare at the text on my phone, the words blurring together as my grip tightens around the edges of the screen. My lavender gown, carefully chosen after weeks of deliberation, hangs pristine on the closet door behind me. It looks almost smug, a mocking reminder of how much effort I poured into tonight. And for what?

“Honestly, Mia, Alex doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone attend prom with you,” Jenna declares, pacing around my room like she’s on a mission. Her red dress swishes with every step, vibrant and determined, a sharp contrast to my crumpled sweats and the pitiful tissue I clutch in my hand.

I glance at my phone again, the screen still glaring with Alex’s message: *Sorry, Mia. I can’t do this. You’re amazing, but I’m not the right guy for you. Hope you have a great prom.* The words dig into me, each one a reminder of how hard I’ve tried to be the perfect girlfriend, the perfect everything.

“You’re amazing,” I mutter bitterly, tossing the phone onto my bed. It lands face-up, the message still taunting me. “If I’m so amazing, why am I sitting here, dateless, with mascara smeared halfway down my face?”

“Because Alex is an idiot,” Jenna says, stopping mid-pace to point an accusatory finger at the phone. Her bright green eyes shine with the kind of determination I don’t have right now. “You can’t let him ruin this for you.”

The charm bracelet on my wrist jingles softly as I wipe at my cheeks with the tissue. The tiny star charm catches the light, a faint glimmer against the dim room. My mom gave me this bracelet on my sixteenth birthday, calling it a reminder of how far I’ve come and how much I still have to look forward to. Right now, it feels more like a reminder of all the things I can’t seem to get right.

“I don’t know, Jenna,” I mumble, curling in on myself. “Maybe I’ll just stay home. Watch a movie, eat some ice cream. Doesn’t sound so bad.”

Jenna’s jaw drops as if I just suggested skipping graduation. “Doesn’t sound so bad? Mia, you’ve been dreaming about this night since, like, middle school. Remember how we used to plan our prom dresses during sleepovers? You’ve spent months making sure everything about tonight is perfect—the dress, the shoes, the jewelry. And now you’re going to let Alex’s cowardly text derail all that? No way.”

Her words sting, mostly because they’re true. Prom wasn’t supposed to be just another night; it was supposed to be *the* night. The culmination of everything I’ve worked for—perfect grades, perfect friends, perfect boyfriend. But none of it feels perfect now. The thought of walking into that ballroom alone, facing all those pitying glances, makes my stomach churn.

Before I can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Nathan pokes his head in, his perpetually amused expression doing nothing to improve my mood. “What’s going on in here? Is Mia still moping?”

“She’s *considering* staying home,” Jenna snaps, shooting him a look that could melt steel.

Nathan steps fully into the room, crossing his arms as he surveys the scene. His suit is slightly wrinkled, and his tie is already loosened, but he still manages to look effortlessly put together—annoyingly so. “You’re really going to let Alex get the last word?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I glare at him. “Thanks for the pep talk, Nathan. Super helpful.”

He smirks and leans against the doorframe. “I’m just saying, if you don’t go, Alex wins. And we can’t have that, can we?”

“Why does everything have to be about winning or losing with you?” I snap, though his words gnaw at me. The thought of Alex thinking he’s ruined my night... I hate that it bothers me as much as it does.

“Exactly!” Jenna interjects, jumping back in. “You’re not staying home, Mia. You’re going to put on that gorgeous lavender gown, walk into prom with your head held high, and remind everyone—including yourself—how incredible you are.”

Nathan shrugs. “Or you could take Ry as your date. That’d definitely make Alex regret his life choices.”

“Excuse me?” I blink at him, horrified.

“You know, Ry,” Nathan says casually, like he’s suggesting I borrow a sweater, not bring his best friend to prom. “He’s already going to be there, and he’s annoyingly good at making people laugh. He’d keep things interesting.”

“I am not taking Ry to prom,” I say firmly, though the mental image of him smirking in his leather jacket flashes across my mind. “That’s ridiculous.”

Nathan raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just a suggestion.”

“Not a *helpful* one,” I mutter, turning back to Jenna.

“Okay, fine, forget Ry,” she says, waving Nathan off like an annoying fly. Her tone softens as she sits next to me, meeting my gaze. “Mia, you’re one of the strongest, most determined people I know. Remember sophomore year, when that teacher said the debate club didn’t need more female members? You didn’t care what anyone thought back then. You didn’t let fear stop you.”

I hesitate, her words stirring something inside me. My gaze drifts to the lavender gown again. It’s not just a dress—it’s everything I’ve worked for, every perfect detail I’ve planned. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? I planned everything, and it still fell apart.

“I just… I don’t know if I can,” I confess quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jenna wraps an arm around my shoulders. Her voice is softer now, less commanding. “Mia, you’ve spent so much time trying to make everything perfect. Tonight doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be *yours*.”

Her words hit me harder than I expect, cracking through the wall of doubt and fear I’ve built over the past hour. My hand drifts to the charm bracelet again, my fingers tracing the tiny lavender flower charm. Maybe she’s right. Maybe perfection isn’t the point.

Nathan clears his throat, breaking the moment. “Well, if you’re going, you’d better start getting ready. Clock’s ticking.”

I glance at the clock on my nightstand. He’s right—it’s already getting late.

Jenna jumps to her feet, clapping her hands. “Yes! Let’s do this. Hair, makeup, the works. You’re going to look stunning, Mia.”

I sigh, but a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “Fine. I’ll go. But if it’s a disaster, I’m blaming both of you.”

“Deal,” Jenna says, already rummaging through my makeup bag.

Nathan chuckles as he heads for the door. “You won’t regret it, Mia. Trust me.”

As Jenna starts fussing over my hair, I let myself relax. My stomach twists with nerves, and a small part of me wonders if I’ll regret this. But maybe tonight doesn’t have to be perfect. Maybe it’ll be messy and awkward and nothing like what I imagined.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s okay.