Kate POV:
The evening shimmered in soft gold as I pinned the last curl in place. My dress was off-white, threaded with silver flecks that caught the light every time I moved. When Kevin knocked on the door, I turned, and for a moment the whole room went still.
He was wearing a matching off-white suit, crisp and calm, a single black ribbon on his pocket. "You ready?" he asked.
"Almost." I smiled, pretending my hands weren't shaking. We took a few photos his faint smile, my awkward pose and I posted one to my feed before we left. Prom night, let's survive it, I captioned it.
The hall buzzed like a dream music, laughter, flashes from phones, the clink of glass cups. Everyone seemed to be glowing. Some people danced, some crowded the photo booth, others just drifted between tables, pretending to be older than they were.
Kevin and I found a spot near the center, just close enough to the dance floor. For a while we talked to friends, ate something sweet, laughed at the teachers trying to look relaxed. I kept pretending I didn't notice the slow songs beginning.
Then the host called for all the partners to stand. Chairs scraped, heels clicked. I stayed seated, eyes on my empty plate, hoping Kevin wouldn't
But his hand appeared in front of me, steady, patient. "Dance with me?"
I looked up. He wasn't smiling, but his eyes were soft. So I nodded.
The music wrapped around us gentle, old, the kind that felt like a memory. Kevin placed one hand lightly on my waist, the other holding my hand, guiding every step. I didn't know the rhythm, kept stumbling.
"Left," he whispered, "then right. Just follow me."
I laughed nervously, stepping on his shoe. "Sorry.""Don't be." He leaned closer so only I could hear. "You're fine."
As we turned, the lights flickered across his face, and for a heartbeat it wasn't the prom hall it was the lake again, that night when we had danced for no reason at all, just because the stars were too bright to ignore.
The memory burned through me, when I was dancing with Kevin across the river.I thought. Because it already feels like one.
When the song ended, I let go of his hand too quickly.
Later, after the crowd thinned and laughter faded into the night air, Kevin and I wandered toward the beach behind the hotel. The sand was cool under my heels, the sky deep blue and wide. We sat by the shore, listening to the waves.
For a long time, neither of us spoke. The silence between us wasn't awkward it was heavy, like it might break if touched.
Then Kevin asked quietly, "Do you… have feelings for someone?"
The question hit harder than I expected. I looked at the horizon instead of him. "Yes."
He turned slightly toward me. "Who?"
My throat tightened. I couldn't say you. Not tonight. So I smiled a little and said, "Someone from this beach. Close to me. Goes to the same school."
Kevin frowned, curious. "What's his name?"
"I won't tell you. But his name starts with M."but the reality was M stands for Mr finch
He raised an eyebrow, pretending not to care. "M, huh? Interesting."
I stood up and brushed the sand off my dress. "Come on." I reached out a hand, but he ignored it and pushed himself up on his own.
As we walked back, he asked, "You're sure about him?"
I paused, the waves echoing behind us. "One hundred percent."
His face was unreadable after that.
Back in the room, the silence followed us like a shadow. I opened the mini-fridge and found two buckets of ice cream. "Want some?" I asked.
"Just one scoop," he said.
We sat on the bed, knees almost touching, eating straight from the cups. Kevin's expression was distant, somewhere between tired and sad. I hated that look on him.
So I puffed my cheeks, crossed my eyes, made the dumbest face I could.
He stared, then a small laugh escaped him soft, reluctant, real.
"That's better," I said, grinning.
When the ice cream was gone, the exhaustion hit all at once. Kevin stretched out on the bed, still in his shirt; I lay down beside him, both of us too tired to think. The lights glowed dim and amber.
I turned my head slightly. He was already half asleep, breathing steady.
For a second, I wanted to reach out, to touch his hand, to say all the things that felt too heavy for words. But I didn't.
Instead I whispered to the dark, "Goodnight, Kevin."
He didn't answer, but his lips moved just a little—as if the silence between us already knew.