We talked about teachers.
Graduation.
Friends.
Movies.
About why he was wearing a hat to prom.
Anything except cancer.
For twenty minutes, I almost felt like a regular teenager again.
Then, we pulled into the school parking lot.
Reality came rushing back.
The gymnasium was glowing with lights.
Music drifted through the entrance.
Students in formal clothes laughed and posed for photos.
Healthy students.
Normal students.
I suddenly couldn’t breathe.
“Leo.”
He turned to face me.
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I really don’t think I can.”
My trembling hand was already reaching for the door handle.
He gently took my hand.
“Look at me.”
I did.
“You don’t have to impress anyone tonight.”
His voice was calm.
“You don’t have to perform.”
I swallowed hard.
“You just have to walk in.”
“What if they stare?”
“Then they stare.”
“What if they pity me?”
“Then that’s their problem.”
I shook my head.
“You don’t understand.”
His expression softened.
“I think I do.”
I looked away, but he wouldn’t budge.
He squeezed my hand.
“You are still Elena.”
My throat tightened.
“Nothing about this disease changes who you are.”
I couldn’t speak.
After a moment, he smiled.
“Come on.”
Against every instinct screaming inside me, I followed him.
The moment we entered the gym, I regretted it.
The room felt quieter.
Not completely silent.
