When I Was Six, I Promised My Best Friend We’d Go to Prom Together—Twelve Years Later, Mom Locked My Bedroom Door and Told Me the Truth
## PART 1
On prom night, my mother locked my bedroom door.
That was when I knew something was wrong.
Downstairs, Noah was waiting for me in a navy suit with the bow tie he had been talking about for months. I could hear him laughing with my aunt through the floorboards.
Mom turned toward me.
“You can go with Noah tonight, Christina. But first, I need you to hear something.”
I stared at her.
“About what?”
Her eyes moved toward the closed door.
“About Noah.”
Then she added quietly:
“And about me.”
My heart started pounding.
Noah and I had been best friends since we were six.
We met in first grade because we both hated raisins.
Our teacher handed everyone little red boxes at snack time, and I was secretly hiding mine beneath a napkin when Noah leaned over.
“That’s smart.”
I looked beside me.
He was doing the same thing.
“You hate them too?”
“They’re old grapes,” he said seriously.
That was enough.
