A boy asked me to prom because no one else would because of my scars. The next day, his parents and the police showed up at my door.

So when prom time came, I told my mom I didn’t want to go. “You can’t hide forever, Cindy,” she said. “One bad experience has already changed your life. Don’t let it keep making decisions for you. Prom only happens once in a lifetime.”

Eventually, he convinced me.

We bought a dress, I curled my hair, and spent almost an hour applying makeup to cover most of the scars on my neck.

But the moment I stepped into the dance studio, I wished I’d stayed home.
The gym was beautiful. The lights shone from above while music blasted from the speakers. Around me, my classmates laughed, danced, and posed for photos as if I weren’t there.

I stood alone near the drinks table, pretending to text people who weren’t replying.

After almost an hour, I was ready to leave.

Then Caleb came up to me.

Everyone knew Caleb. He was popular, handsome, tall, captain of the football team—the kind of guy girls whispered about all the time. Things got even weirder when he stopped in front of me, looking nervous.

Then he held out his hand to me and asked, “Do you want to dance with me?”

At first I thought it was a joke.

But it wasn’t.

So I took his hand.

The moment he led me onto the dance floor, people started staring at us. I noticed some girls whispering to each other. Some guys looked completely stunned.

Caleb ignored them all.

We danced all night. At some point, I stopped feeling invisible. People kept staring at us, but suddenly I didn’t care anymore.

Caleb treated me normally. He made me laugh.

By the end of the night, I didn’t want the dancing to end.

Afterwards, instead of leaving with his friends, Caleb walked me home.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I admitted. “More than I expected!”