Richard hadn’t planned on asking anyone at all. But Shirley had been the only person who treated him like he wasn’t invisible, and something inside him, hope, rose up before he could stop it. He waited until after chemistry, hands trembling slightly as he approached her. “Shirley… can I ask you something?”
She looked up, warm and attentive in the way that made his chest tighten. But the moment he asked her to prom, her face shifted, not pity, not discomfort, just honest regret. “Oh, Richard… I’m really sorry. I already have a date.” The sincerity landed like a bruise. She wasn’t mocking him. She wasn’t lying. And somehow that made it sting worse.