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“Um, what traffic-less utopia are you living in?” I laugh, snaking my arms around his waist.

“Okay, maybe twenty-five minutes. But still. It’s... fate.” He gives me that perfect, soft smile that melts everything inside of me.

I slap his chest. “Boy, you are so cheesy.”

“I agree,” Dad chimes in, appearing out of nowhere. I promptly remove my hands from Alex.

“Yeah, son, haven’t I taught you better game?” Mr. Leesays, right behind him. And then suddenly, Mom, Dr. Lee, and Etta are there too. Wally, thankfully, is nowhere in sight.

“Leave them alone! It’s cute,” Dr. Lee insists.

“I certainly kissed some boys for much less at that age,” Mom says, and then I immediately fall into a crack that opens up in the ground to the burning center of the earth and perish. Dead.

That night is the big formal, a fancy dinner and dance that the cruise’s brochure hyped as the “jewel of the journey.” And yeah, it’s way corny, but it’s not like we have anything better to do. And I relish that I don’t have to do some big will-he-won’t-he song and dance with Alex about whether we’re going to go together. When we return to the ship, he kisses my cheek, all bold in front of my parents, and tells me he’ll pick me up from my room at seven.

Wally gets back in bed and declares he’s not going, even after a long, stern talk with Mom. I’m irritated by him, but I’m also grateful that it gives me the run of the tiny room to get myself ready, without knocking into him or fighting over the shower. I twist my locs into a massive bun on top of my head, adorning them with sparkling gold cuffs. I line my eyes in bright teal and put nude gloss on my lips. And then I put on the baby-blue poofy tulle dress that I made a couple years ago, and luckily talked myself into packing at the last minute, finishing the look off with gold beaded sandals and a black clutch.

I look like Cinderella. Not like the cartoon one or the million carbon-copy remakes. No, like, Brandy from the good onethat my aunt Stacy has stuck in the DVD player in her Honda Odyssey. I look fucking amazing.

Alex knocks, right on time. I open the door and my chest flutters when I see him standing there in his black tux with shiny lapels and a bow tie. A bow tie! I didn’t realize bow ties were my thing, but apparently they are totally my thing.

“You really out here just having tuxes on standby?”

He shrugs, cheeks pink. “It’s leftover from prom. I bought instead of renting.”

Right. The prom that he was supposed to go to with Natalia. That he would have gone to with her ifshedidn’t end things with him. My stomach feels tight thinking about it.

But he’s here with me now, I remind myself. And he’s staring at me all wide-eyed and dreamy right now, like I’m the most special person in the world. Has anyone ever looked at me this way before?

I need to let go of all the baggage holding me back. I need to just let myself be in this, fully.

Alex shakes his head like he’s coming out of a trance. “Oh, I brought something for you.” He holds up a clear container that I didn’t notice before because I was so distracted by the bow tie. Inside is a white anemone in a cluster of baby’s breath, attached to a thin gold band.

“Is that...?”

“A corsage. Which, yes, I know is cheesy”—he laughs and holds his other hand up—“but we’ve firmly established cheesy is my brand.”

I’m so surprised, so touched, that I can’t get any words out, which he must interpret as a bad thing because he rushes to explain. “I thought—because of what you said about your prom—that maybe this could be a redo. Because you’re just... you’re so great, Lenore, and you deserve it all, the perfect prom night. And I can’t do the limo and the fancy dinner reservation, obviously, but I could at least do this. If you don’t like the flowers, we can stop at the florist again on the third deck, Barbara could totally remake it with something—”

I stop his babbling with a kiss. “I love it. Thank you.”

He beams at me. “Oh, well. Good.”

His hands have the slightest tremble as he slides the corsage onto my wrist. I toss the empty container back into our room.

“Hey, Wally!” I call. “Can you get up for a second and take our picture?”

He groans in protest but reluctantly pushes the covers off and walks over to the doorway, hands on his hips. I pass him my clunky camera and my phone. “On both of these, please. Thank you!”

Alex stands behind me, his hands around my waist. The flash is bright in our eyes, making this all feel like a dream again. And wasn’t this my dream, just a few weeks ago? When I was taking prom pictures with my friends, the odd one out?

We walk to the formal, hand in hand, and I can’t help but compare how I’m feeling now to how I felt on prom night. I was so stressed and anxious then, hoping for maybe a couple dances and some secret making out with a guy who wouldn’t evenclaim me as his date. But there’s only calm with Alex now. And it’s not just because he’s made me feel so certain of his feelings. It’s also that I’m not gearing up and getting ready to perform, like I feel like I have to so often at home, with my friends and everyone at Chrysalis. I’ve been with Alex constantly for days, but I don’t feel depleted with him, like I do with everyone else. I can just be. Without doing too much thinking about how I’m being.

I don’t think I ever anticipated finding this peace with someone. And it makes me dare to imagine some wild stuff. Like, that maybe I’ve found my person. My one true... well, whatever.

The Crown Room, where we’ve eaten all of our breakfasts and dinners, is totally transformed. The lights are low, except for bright pink spotlights that cast the room in a rosy glow. The tables, adorned with massive centerpieces of pink and red roses, are pushed closer to the walls, making room for a white, sparkling dance floor. And it’s already crowded with people shaking their groove things with varying amounts of skill.

I spot Mr. Lee doing something that resembles Carlton’s moves from that old showThe Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, while Dr. Lee looks on in glee, and I point him out to Alex.