One month later
We were at a dance.
Black, silver, and pink balloons hung from the walls and pooled all over the floor. There was a pink banner at the back of the gymnasium—we were at our old school.
A sad song was playing, and our friends were dancing, their arms wrapped around each other. It was Homecoming.
Willow stood on the stage, her Junior Queen crown on her head and her pink dress shimmering. She looked like part of the it, as if they’d specifically designed the theme around what she was wearing.
If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve believed that wholeheartedly.
Willow and I both had light brown hair and sometimes golden blonde hair. It ranged in shades—it all depended on the season or whether Willow had been to the hair stylist lately. She’d spent more time in the sun over t
