His whole face brightened.
“Really?”
“Maybe.”
Then I remembered something my older cousin had told me.
“But first we have to go to prom.”
Ethan frowned.
“What’s prom?”
“A dance.”
“We already have dances.”
“No. Prom is when you’re almost a grown-up.”
“Oh.”
Then he held out his pinkie.
“Promise?”
I hooked mine around his.
“Promise.”
I forgot about it before dinner.
Ethan didn’t.
TWELVE YEARS PASSED
Somehow—
we stayed best friends.
We weren’t attached every second.
Different classes.
Different interests.
Different friends.
