MY BEST FRIEND WITH DOWN SYNDROME WAITED 12 YEARS TO KEEP OUR CHILDHOOD PROMISE TO GO TO PROM TOGETHER. BUT THE NIGHT ETHAN ARRIVED AT MY DOOR WITH A CORSAGE, MY MOM LOCKED ME IN MY BEDROOM AND SAID, “SOPHIE, BEFORE YOU LEAVE WITH HIM, THERE’S SOMETHING I HAVE TO CONFESS.”

My mother locked my bedroom door on prom night.

That was when I stopped laughing.

Downstairs, Ethan Harper was waiting for me in a navy suit, wearing the bow tie he had apparently purchased four months too early.

I could hear him talking to my aunt through the floorboards.

Mom turned toward me.

Her name was Eleanor Bennett.

And her hands were shaking.

“You can still go to prom with Ethan.”

I stared at her.

“I’m glad we’ve established that.”

“Sophie.”

Something in her voice made me stop.

“But before you leave,” she continued, “I need you to hear something.”

“About what?”

Her eyes moved toward the locked door.

Then back to me.

“About Ethan.”

My stomach tightened.

“What about him?”

“And about me.”

She sat on the edge of my bed.

Then said:

“I owe both of you the truth.”

ETHAN AND I BECAME BEST FRIENDS BECAUSE WE BOTH HATED RAISINS

We were six years old.

Our first-grade teacher handed everybody those tiny red boxes of raisins during snack time.

I was trying to hide mine beneath a napkin when the boy beside me whispered:

“That’s smart.”

I looked over.

He was doing exactly the same thing.

“You hate raisins too?”

“They’re old grapes.”

I considered that.

Technically—

he had a point.

“Old grapes are disgusting,” Ethan said.

By lunch, we were best friends.

Dinosaurs made it permanent.

Ethan knew an absurd amount about them.

I liked drawing them.

Badly.

The first time I drew a Tyrannosaurus rex, Ethan stared at the page.

Then asked:

“What is that?”

“A T. rex.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He pointed.

“It looks like a potato with tiny arms.”

I shoved him.

He laughed so loudly our teacher separated us.

Ethan had Down syndrome.

At six years old, that fact mattered much less to me than the fact that he cheated at dinosaur trivia by memorizing answers before asking me questions.

Our friendship was easy.

Until somebody else decided it shouldn’t be.