Girls like her did not suddenly notice boys like Nathan.
She had not really acted as if she knew my son existed for four years. Four years!
Two Weeks of Happiness and Fear
The following two weeks were the happiest I had seen my son since middle school! The boy could not stop smiling.
Nathan came home one afternoon with a garment bag draped over his arm and announced that he had spent his savings on a navy suit. He modeled it for me in the living room, turning slowly and asking if the sleeves were too long.
“You look handsome,” I told him, and meant it.
He even practiced dancing.
I caught him one night in the living room with his phone propped on the bookshelf, swaying to some slow song and counting steps under his breath. For the first time in a long time, he looked genuinely excited!
I stood in the hallway and watched him, and my chest ached.
I tried to be happy for him. I truly did. But deep down, I could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. The closer prom got, the more worried I became.
The Question I Couldn’t Stop Asking
I tried, once, to ask the one question I could not stop turning over while working from home.
“Nathan,” I said while he was eating cereal one morning. “Has Madison… I mean, do you two talk much? At school?”
He shrugged. “A little. She’s nice, Mom. Really nice.”
“It’s just… it happened so fast. Are you sure she…?”
My son looked up at me, and the smile faded just a little.
“You think she’s playing a joke on me.”
“I didn’t say that,” I tried, backtracking.
“You don’t have to.”
“Honey, I just want to protect you.”
“I know.” His voice was quiet. “But can you just be happy for me?”
I nodded because I could not think of anything to say that would not make it worse.
The truth was, I kept imagining her playing some cruel prank on him, one that would leave him heartbroken.
Prom Night Arrives
Prom night came faster than I wanted it to.
Nathan stood in the entryway in his suit, his hair combed back, a small white corsage box trembling slightly in his hand. He looked older and, for the first time in years, as if he believed he belonged somewhere.
