Daisy’s eyes went wide.
Then she smiled — and for one perfect second, every cruel word, every lonely lunch, every night of tears seemed to vanish.
People actually clapped.
The DJ started the music, and Caleb led her onto the floor. He moved slowly, gently, matching his steps to hers — one, two, three, turn — exactly the way she’d practiced in our kitchen.
And Daisy laughed.
Not the nervous little laugh she used when she felt out of place.
A real one. Bright and free and full of joy.
My eyes filled with tears.
Maybe I was wrong, I thought. Maybe this boy really does care.
That was when Caleb’s tuxedo jacket, draped over a chair near the edge of the floor, slid off and landed at my feet.
I bent down to pick it up.
