Chapter 14: Promises in the Spotlight
The school buzzed with prom fever.
Posters for voting royalty were plastered across every locker, fairy lights lined the main hallways, and whispers about who-was-going-with-who filled every lunch table like wildfire.
Emma tried not to care.
But Alina wouldn't let her ignore it.
"We have to find you a dress," she said, tugging Emma into a pop-up vintage booth during their Saturday mall run. "Prom is the teenage fairytale. And after everything with Jake? You deserve your moment."
Emma eyed a soft champagne-colored gown with a low back and delicate beading. "I don't even know if he's into prom."
"Please," Alina rolled her eyes. "He's into you. That means he's into whatever makes you shine."
Emma smiled, despite herself. "Fine. But only if you help me find shoes I won't die in."
Alina grinned. "Deal."
---
Jake was into it.
When Emma brought it up later that evening, his face lit up in that rare, soft way that made her insides melt.
"I was actually gonna ask you this week," he said, brushing his fingers through her hair. "But I wanted to make it special."
Emma leaned into him on the couch, their legs tangled. "Special like how?"
He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his hoodie pocket.
She raised an eyebrow. "You wrote me a note?"
"Kind of," he said, handing it to her.
She unfolded it slowly.
It was a song. A handwritten chorus and half a verse, with her name scribbled at the top.
I'd slow dance in sneakers on gym floors with you,
Spin through fake stars under paper moons.
Even if the night ends before it begins,
You're the only real thing in this world of pretend.
Emma stared at it, stunned.
Jake smiled nervously. "I was gonna finish it and sing it to you during the art show assembly next week. Ask you to prom in front of everyone."
Emma blinked hard, trying not to cry. "You cheesy, adorable idiot."
He grinned. "So... that's a yes?"
She laughed. "Of course it's a yes."
---
But life doesn't pause for fairytales.
The Monday after their perfect weekend, Ms. Carter, the art department head, called Emma into her office.
"I've submitted your portfolio to the Northwestern Summer Creative Program," she said. "They loved it."
Emma froze. "Wait—what?"
"You're in, Emma. Full scholarship. Four weeks in Chicago. Residential."
Emma sat down, her heart racing. "When does it start?"
"June 1st. You'd have to leave two days after graduation."
Emma's chest tightened.
Chicago. Four weeks of focused painting. New people. New world.
No Jake.
---
She told him that night.
They sat in his truck outside her house, the windows fogged slightly from their shared breath.
Jake didn't say anything at first.
Then, "That's... amazing."
Emma smiled nervously. "You mean that?"
"Of course I do." He paused. "But also... that's a whole month. Away from here. Away from us."
"I know."
Jake looked at her. "Will you still want this? After?"
Emma blinked. "You think I'm gonna meet some artsy Chicago boy and forget you?"
"I think..." he swallowed. "I think maybe you'll realize you don't need me anymore."
Emma grabbed his hand, tight. "I already realized I don't need you."
Jake flinched.
She rushed to add, "I want you. That's more powerful. I want you even when I don't have to."
He exhaled slowly.
"That means everything."
---
Prom week arrived like a blur of glitter and nerves.
Emma's dress hung in her closet like a promise. Jake had his tux rented, tie matching her dress to perfection.
The school was alive with countdowns, corsage orders, and rehearsal chaos for the talent assembly. Emma painted the backdrop while Jake practiced his song.
It was almost perfect.
Until Thursday.
Emma walked into the auditorium after class, her paint-covered hoodie tied around her waist.
Jake was onstage, mid-run-through.
And Maya was there.
She wasn't doing anything wrong—just sitting in the front row, holding a clipboard, part of the event committee.
But Jake was laughing. Smiling at something she'd said.
Emma froze in the shadows.
A few students stood nearby, whispering.
"She's still not over him…"
"I bet she regrets everything now…"
"They'd make a way better couple."
The ache in Emma's chest returned like a ghost with claws.
Later that evening, she didn't answer Jake's texts.
---
The night before prom, Jake showed up at her window.
Emma opened it reluctantly.
"Can we talk?" he asked softly.
She nodded.
They sat on the roof, legs swinging over the edge.
"I saw you and Maya," Emma said.
Jake didn't flinch. "She's on the committee. We were talking about the mic levels. That's it."
Emma looked at him. "Do you still love her?"
"No."
"Not even a little?"
Jake turned to her, his voice calm. "I loved who she was before she broke me. Before I knew what love really looked like."
Emma stared at her hands. "And what does love look like now?"
He took her chin gently and lifted it. "You."
---
Prom night was a dream dipped in starlight.
Emma walked into the venue and felt like she was floating. Her dress shimmered like moonlight, her hair curled to perfection. Jake waited at the door, jaw dropping.
"You look like something out of a fantasy," he whispered.
"You clean up okay too," she teased, fixing his crooked boutonnière.
The night unfolded in bursts of laughter, dancing, awkward teacher photos, and slow songs.
Jake performed his song during the prom court intermission. The whole room went silent when he sang her name.
And when he stepped off the stage and walked straight to Emma, offering his hand, everyone knew:
She was the reason behind every lyric.
---
But even fairytales have shadows.
Near the end of the night, Emma stepped outside for air.
She wasn't expecting Maya to follow her.
They stood under a string of patio lights, soft music drifting through the doors.
Maya spoke first.
"He's different with you."
Emma turned. "Excuse me?"
Maya shrugged. "Jake. I've never seen him look at someone like that. Like the world could end and he'd still choose you."
Emma swallowed hard.
Maya looked down. "I used to think he was mine. That I'd always have some kind of hold on him."
She looked back up, tears glinting. "But I was wrong."
Emma didn't speak.
Maya stepped forward. "I'm not here to fight. I just wanted you to know... I'm letting go."
A pause.
"And I hope you never give him a reason to regret choosing you."
Emma's breath caught. "I won't."
Maya nodded once. Then turned and walked away.
---
Later that night, Emma and Jake sat on the hood of his truck, parked by the lake again.
Her heels were off. His tie was undone. They looked like a painting of a storybook ending.
"I leave in three weeks," she whispered.
Jake pulled her into his side. "I know."
"You're not scared?"
"I'm terrified."
She looked at him.
"But I'm also sure."
"Sure of what?"
He kissed her temple. "That love like this doesn't disappear. It evolves. It stretches. It survives."
Emma closed her eyes.
And when he pressed his forehead to hers, she believed him.
Because love like this — broken, rebuilt, tested and true — was no longer a promise.
It was proof.