I ring his doorbell and wait. No answer.

I ring it again, knowing he’s there, but there’s still no answer.

Sighing, I start to tie the balloon strings to his mailbox, but the front door slowly opens.

“What’s going on?” His father steps out and his eyes are bloodshot. “Is something wrong, Mia?”

“No, I was just...” I look him over, wondering why he looks so sick. “I was just coming by to tell Dean Happy Birthday.”

A slight smile crosses his lips and he takes the balloons and the card from my hands. “I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

“So he is here?” I ask, wanting to see him for myself. “Can you tell him to come down so we can talk?”

He shakes his head, but keeps smiling. “I’ll let him know you stopped by.” Then he slams the door in my face.

Night of Prom.

This cannot be happening...

I’m standing downstairs in my living room, looking out the window long past the time Dean was supposed to pick me up.

I told him seven. He agreed to seven.

We agreed on seven.

Refusing to believe that my first love would do something so cruel as to stand me up on prom night, I hold off on texting him. I walk over to the mirror and look over my reflection once more.

My one shoulder red gown is shimmering beneath the light, and my dark brown hair is swept up into a high bun that perfectly frames my face. A few tendrils are loose and tucked behind my ears, and the bright make-up the mall specialist put on me hours ago looks more stunning now than it did then.

Forcing a smile, I bat my eyelashes and watch as the glitter on my eyelids glimmers.

I’m not sure how long I stand there staring at myself, but after my eyes catch the wall clock reading at seven forty-five, I text Dean.

MIA:  Where are you?

No response. I start to call him, but another text comes through. Autumn.

AUTUMN:  Hey! Is it packed already? And how hard was it for you two to find parking?

MIA:  I’m not there yet.

AUTUMN:  Oh. Well, are you on your way there? Will you let me know about the parking when you get there?

MIA:  No...I’m still at home.

Seconds after I send the text, she calls me.

“Are you still getting dressed or—” She stops mid-sentence as I start to cry.

“I think he’s...” Reality’s ugliness is hitting me real hard. “I think he’s standing me up.”

“Mia, no. He would never do that to you.”

“Then why isn’t he here?” I sniffle.

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason.”

“And if there isn’t?” I place my hand against my chest. “He hasn’t been the same for months, Autumn. And even this week, whenever I mentioned prom he never said too much in response.”

“That could mean anything.” She doesn’t want to believe it, and neither do I, but I already know this night won’t end well. I know I should just let it go, but I’ve never been one to back completely away.

“Can I ride with you and Jacob” I ask. “I sent Dean a text a while ago and he has yet to text me back.”

“Of course.” She assures me. “We’re on our way.”

I end the call and send Dean one more message.

MIA:  Are you going to answer me? If not, I’ll have to ride to the prom with Autumn and Jacob.

No answer comes, and within twenty minutes I’m in the backseat of Jacob’s rented convertible, dabbing tears at every stoplight.

When he pulls the car outside of the entrance, Autumn turns around in the front seat and tells me to wait before getting out.

Like the perfect best friend that she is, she turns on the backseat light and calms me down, making me count backwards from twenty. Then she pulls out her small makeup kit and re-applies my mascara and lip-gloss, letting me know that everything will work out fine in the end for me. Whether I end up with Dean or not.

“You sure you don’t want to go to the photo booth first and take pictures with us?” she asks. “You sure you want to go in by yourself?”

“I’m sure.” I give her the best smile I can and slip out of the car. I head underneath the glowing arches of the front entrance and stop, posing for the professional photographer who’s standing behind a podium.

I sign my name at the check in desk, and when they ask if I want to be announced over the speakers as I walk inside (a small perk of being “Miss Popular” apparently), I quickly decline their offer and head straight into the ballroom.

Unable to hold back a smile, I look around the massive room in awe. Glittery silver streamers are hanging from the high glass ceilings, white and blue balloon arrangements are standing at six feet tall in every corner, and beyond the windows that surround the room is a lake that features entwined C’s and H’s under a bright light.

I scan the room, looking for Dean, honestly hoping to see him here, and just when I think I’m in the clear, I spot him across the room. Dancing with someone else.

And not in a “We’re just friends” way.

It’s a “I’m going to fuck you after this” way.

Feeling my heart drop for the second time in a day, I make my over to him and tap him on the shoulder.

“Yeah?” He turns around, completely expressionless as his eyes meet mine.

“What are you—” My voice cracks. “What are you doing here?”

“At prom?” He smirks. “It is a senior event isn’t it? So, since I’m a senior, I’m here attending. What about you?”

“I mean, why are you here with her?” I look at the girl behind him, quickly sizing her up as a junior, someone he probably barely knows.

“Because she’s my date.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I was supposed to be your date.”

“Yeah, supposed to be.” He tilts his head to the side. “Aren’t you a literary aficionado? The word ‘supposed’ is considered past tense, correct?”

“Dean, stop this.” There are tears in my eyes. “Stop this right now.”

“I’m confused.” His voice is cold. “I’m not currently doing anything to you.”

I grab his hand and pull him away from his “date” and off of the dance floor. I lead him out into the hallway and try to remain calm.

“Are you really cheating on me on prom night?” I’m seething, but there are fresh tears falling down my face. “And were you really just going to stand me up and ignore my texts like I mean nothing to you?”

“You do mean nothing to me.” He looks more distant than I’ve ever seen him. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Dean...”

“Mia...” He mocks me. “Is there anything else irrelevant you’d like to discuss out here? If so, make it quick so I can get back to someone who actually gives me the fucking time of day.”

“Dean, what the hell is wrong with you?” I look into his eyes, hoping to see a glimpse of the guy I fell in love with, but I see nothing but spite. Unexplainable spite. “Four months ago you were telling me you loved me.”

“Because I actually did love you.”

“Well, I still love you,” I say. “And, even though you’re being a complete and utter jackass right now, I want to talk this out.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk this out.” He looks me up and down. “And I unfortunately can’t say that I feel the same about you anymore.” He quickly walks away and back into the party, and I go after him, stopping as soon as I see him walk up to his date and kiss her right on the mouth. With tongue. For everyone to see.

I stand frozen to my spot, and out the corner of my eye I see Autumn rushing over to me, pulling me away before I can approach Dean and ask him what the hell he’s doing again.

“No,” she says. “No, Mia. Let’s go.”

I’m crying hysterically and Dean is watching me break down, but all he does is smile and give his date another long kiss in full view of me, to make sure I see it.

I feel Autumn pulling me down into a chair and rubbing my arms. She’s saying something I can’t quite comprehend because all I can focus on are the people pointing at Dean and his date, and then pointing over at me, laughing.