I never thought I’d see Marcus again.
When I was 17, a drunk driver ran a red light and changed everything. Six months before prom, I went from arguing about curfew and trying on dresses with my friends to waking up in a hospital bed with doctors talking around me like I wasn’t in it.
My legs were broken in three places. My spine was damaged. There were words like rehab and prognosis and maybe.
By the time prom came, I told my mom I wasn’t going.
Before the crash, my life had been ordinary in the best way. I worried about grades. I worried about boys. I worried about prom pictures.
Afterward, I worried about being looked at.
By the time prom came, I told my mom I wasn’t going.
She stood in my doorway holding the dress bag and said, “You deserve one night.”
“I deserve not to be stared at.”
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