For the consequences of what she had done.
After they disappeared through the doors, the gym remained silent.
Then one person clapped.
Another joined.
Then another.
Within seconds, the entire room erupted into applause.
Wren looked at me, overwhelmed.
“Stay,” I whispered.
A girl approached her with napkins.
“It’s still beautiful,” she said.
Wren gave a tiny laugh through her tears.
We cleaned the dress as best we could.
The red stain wouldn’t completely disappear.
But neither would the memory.
The music eventually started again.
Wren looked toward the dance floor.
“You don’t have to go,” I told her.
She took a breath.
“Yes, I do.”
And she walked forward.
Her dress was stained.
Her eyes were red.
Her hands were still trembling.
But she walked onto that dance floor anyway.
