“Are you all right? What happened?”

“Nothing. It was just overwhelming.”

She didn’t respond.

The water ran over my head and skin, mixing with the punch, making a light red pool at my feet before swirling down the drain. I rubbed the shampoo into my hair, scrubbing quickly, and then rinsed it out. I did the same with the body wash until my skin no longer felt sticky.

I pulled down the lever and ripped the towel from the rack. I stepped out of the shower before furiously rubbing the moisture from my hair and skin, and then I dressed in a comfortable T-shirt, jeans, and tan leather ballet flats.

When I walked downstairs, Weston was standing by the front door, his hands in his pockets, still wearing his ruffled tux. A button had busted off during the kerfuffle, and more of his chest was showing than before. Specks of red in varying sizes were spattered on the white fabric of his dress shirt, and I recoiled, knowing none of the blood was his.

“You okay?” Weston said quietly.

I nodded, reaching up to straighten his shirt and tie the best I could.

“Erin? What happened?” Sam asked.

“I told Julianne upstairs that prom just got to be too overwhelming. Weston agreed to bring me home, so I could change.”

Julianne watched me speak, but my words didn’t alleviate her obvious concern. “Erin, honey, why does Weston look like he was in a fight?”

Weston started to speak, but I shot him a look.

“Erin—” Sam began, but the doorbell rang.

Weston stepped to the side, and Sam opened the door to reveal Lynn Beck standing on the porch with Brady, Peter, and Veronica. One of Brady’s eyes was swollen shut, and the other was threatening to do the same. His top lip was swollen with a dark blood blister.

“Glad to see you’ve stopped bleeding,” Weston said.

“Weston!” Veronica said, shocked. “Did you do this?”

“You’re damn right I did, and if he pours punch—no, if he comes within ten feet of Erin, he’ll get it again,” Weston snarled.

Brady looked ridiculous, standing behind his mother with various injuries. I couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or happy that she had brought him as evidence, but he wasn’t as vocal as usual.

“Poured…what?” Julianne said, her voice rising an octave. She looked to me, horrified.

She ran up the stairs, and in less than a minute, she plodded back down, her hand over her mouth. She took me into her arms and looked to Sam. “Her dress is covered in punch. Brady poured punch on her!” Her voice broke with a combination of sadness and anger.

“She is not the victim here!” Lynn said, pointing at me. “She initiated an unnecessary fight between these boys! They used to be friends, and she has poisoned Weston’s mind against my son!”

Julianne held me against her side.

Peter looked at Weston and spoke, “Brady said that you attacked him after Erin walked into his cup of punch. Is that true?”

Weston became agitated again. “Brady tossed his cup of punch on Erin and then tried to pour another one over her head.”

Lynn sneered, “It was an accident. She’s lying.”

“I saw it,” Weston said. “Everyone saw it. That’s why Coach Morris threw him out.”

Sam pushed up his round glasses. “Lynn, I think you’d better leave.”

Lynn’s face screwed into disgust. “My son was attacked, and you’re asking us to leave? You owe us an apology!” Her eyes targeted me. “I can’t believe I actually felt happy that you were doing so well. I was going to nominate you for an award at the club. How can you sleep at night, knowing you’ve made up such lies about my son?”

“Don’t address Erin,” Sam said. “If you have something to say, say it to me.”

“You are trash!” Lynn seethed, narrowing her eyes at me.

Julianne stepped onto the porch, just a few feet from Brady and his mother. “Lynn, get your pretentious ass off my lawn—now.”

Lynn’s jaw dropped, and she grabbed Brady by the arm before jerking him toward their SUV. “There will be consequences!” she called back, her short hair bouncing as she marched.

Peter chuckled. “She realizes we’re attorneys, right?”

Veronica glared at the Becks’ SUV while Lynn drove away. “She forgets how much I know. Brady comes home and laughs about how he bullies kids at school, and she laughs with him. She encourages it. She thinks those kids are beneath her and Brady and their family. She believes it in her soul. She thinks his cruelty is funny, and now, she has the gall to pretend he is innocent. Just pathetic.”

“I’m just disappointed about that award,” I said. “I was really looking forward to it.”

Our parents burst into laughter, our mothers wiping away tears.

“Oh, Erin,” Julianne said, hugging me, “you’re amazing.”

Weston wasn’t amused. I took his hand and squeezed it.

Veronica patted Weston’s shoulder. “I think, uh…I think we can fix the evening. Don’t you, son?”

It took Weston a moment to process what she’d meant, but once recognition hit, his eyes sparked. “We can!”

He whisked me across the yard, and I was glad I had on flats instead of heels. He pushed through his front door and pulled on my hand until we reached the door to the basement.

“Wait here,” he said. He disappeared down the stairs, and a few moments later, music began to float up from the basement. When he opened the door, his hair had been smoothed, and he had a smile on his face. He offered his hand. “C’mon.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Weston led me down the stairs, and I gasped.

“What…when did you do all of this?” I asked.

The entire basement was draped in orange, red, blue, and white streamers. The coffee table had been made into a pretend fire pit, and white twinkle lights had been strung across the tops of the walls.

A wide smile stretched across his face. “I wasn’t sure if you’d really go, so this was plan B.”

“You thought I would back out?”

“Right up until we sat at the table.”

“So…you made us our own prom?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Mom helped.”

I threw my arms around him. “I love you. I am so”—I shook my head—“in love with you. I don’t know why you love me so much, but I am so lucky.”