Prom was at the Grand Regency Hotel downtown. In the big ballroom on the second floor.
Noah drove. His mom’s Camry, washed and vacuumed. He’d hung a little air freshener shaped like a pine tree from the mirror. I think he bought it just for tonight.
Neither of us said much on the drive. The radio was playing some old song his mom liked. Noah kept glancing over at me at the red lights.
“Stop looking at me,” I said.
“I can’t help it.”
“Watch the road.”
“The road isn’t wearing a green dress.”
I hit his arm. But I was smiling.
In the hotel hallway outside the ballroom, I could hear the music thumping behind the big double doors. Bass so loud the floor was buzzing under my shoes.
I stopped. My fingers were on the brass handle.
I couldn’t open it.
Noah waited. He didn’t push. He didn’t say “come on.” He just stood there next to me, holding my other hand, waiting.
I breathed in once.
Then I opened the door.
The room went quiet.
Not all at once. It spread. Starting with the people closest to the door. A ripple.
Someone near the photo booth whispered, “Oh my God. Is that Damien?”
A small laugh came first.
Then another one.
Then more joined in.
And then the phones came out.
I watched them come up, one by one. Little black rectangles, all pointed at me. Little red recording dots.
Noah’s hand tightened around mine.
“Damien,” he said quietly.
“I know,” I whispered.
But I kept looking at the phones. I couldn’t stop.
Jada appeared at my side out of nowhere. She was wearing a gold dress and looked like a movie star. She stood close enough that her shoulder brushed mine.
“Don’t give them fear,” she said through her teeth, still smiling.
I swallowed. I lifted my chin.
Noah looked at me.
“We can still go,” he said. “Right now. I’ll drive you anywhere. We’ll get pancakes.”
“No,” I said. My voice came out thinner than I wanted. “We came to prom. I’m nervous. But I’m okay.”
Jada nodded toward the dance floor.
“Then go dance!”
I almost laughed. “Right now?”
“Right now.”
Specialty: Quiet Comebacks & Personal Justice
David Reynolds focuses on stories where underestimated individuals regain control of their lives. His writing centers on measured decisions rather than dramatic outbursts — emphasizing preparation, patience, and the long game. His characters don’t shout; they act.