Kiara raises her red cup into the air. “To chaos, hairspray, and lots of dancing.”
We all clink our drinks together like idiots.
25
MADDY
Oh yeah. That’s the one
Friday evening arrives quietly. Around five, the whole house already smells like grilled onions and melted cheese. Noah and I wander into the kitchen, where Dad is flipping mini hamburgers on the stove.
“There’s my prom crew,” he says without looking up.
Noah makes a beeline for the tray, reaching for a slider.
“Ah-ah,” Dad warns, swatting Noah’s hand with a spatula. “These are for tonight. You want one now, you wait until I burn one.”
“Torture,” Noah mutters.
And then right on cue, the doorbell rings. I open the door, and in walks Liam, arms full of a drawstring bag clearly stuffed to the brim.
“Snacks have arrived,” he announces, holding it up like a trophy.
I raise a brow. “That’s all you brought?”
“Yes,” he says, stepping inside and pulling me into a quick hug and strolls confidently into the hallway.
Mel walks in right behind him, elegant and calm as ever, her tote bag slung over one shoulder. She gives me a quick smile as she passes, then leans in and whispers, “I packed an outfit for him. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
I snort. “Genius.”
Dad comes around the corner, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “There’s my favourite duo.”
Liam grins. “Evening, Chef Luke.”
Mel gives Dad a big hug.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rings again. I swing it open to find Kiara standing there—with not one, not two, butthreebags.
“Is the sleepover here?” I ask, grinning.
“Don’t judge me,” she says, brushing past me. “Three emergency outfits, backup shoes, hair tools, accessories—oh, and I brought a dress that would look amazing on you.”
“I already have a dress.”
“Sure,” she says, nodding seriously, “but this one would fit you perfectly.”
I roll my eyes as she walks past me. She dumps her bags onto the couch and calls out, “Luke!”
Dad peeks out from the kitchen. “Ah. The glitter tornado has arrived.”
“I promise not to make your house a glitter bomb like last year.”
Then there’s a knock. I open the door, and Ryan stands there with one bag slung over his shoulder. He glances past me at the chaos inside. “Is it safe to come in?”
I step aside. “Can’t promise it.”
He nods solemnly. “Good to know.”
