ZARA
I've never heard silence this loud.
Not the kind where no one is speaking — but the kind that fills the air with unspoken words, stares, and stunned reactions.
That's what it felt like walking into prom with Liam Hunter.
He hadn't even said a word when he opened the car door for me, but I could tell. I saw it in his eyes. The way he looked at me like I wasn't just a girl in a dress but something he hadn't expected to be real. Something he wasn't ready for.
I thought I'd feel awkward. Clumsy. Like a girl wearing someone else's clothes.
But standing beside Liam, his hand resting at the small of my back, I didn't feel out of place.
I felt powerful.
Like I'd just walked into a room and changed the story.
I could feel the way eyes followed me. Whispers started. People I barely knew were doing double takes, nudging their friends. And for the first time ever, the stares didn't feel cruel. They didn't feel mocking.
They felt… amazed.
Like somehow, I'd gone from invisible to unforgettable.
Even Beatrice looked thrown off. Her eyes narrowed just slightly when she saw us, like she couldn't believe I had the audacity to show up looking like this — standing beside her Liam, holding my head up, not giving her the satisfaction of shrinking.
But I didn't do this for her.
I didn't even do this for Liam.
I did it for me.
Because for once, I wanted to stop hiding behind my hoodies and sarcasm. I wanted to walk into a room and not feel like I had to apologize for taking up space.
And Liam… he made that easier.
"You look like the reason the moon shows up at night." He'd said that earlier, teasing, sure — but the way his voice lowered at the end, I think he meant it.
God help me, I wanted to believe he meant it.
We walked past our classmates and I heard someone whisper, "Is that Zara? Zara the tomboy?" I couldn't help but smirk a little.
The lights inside the gym made everything feel magical. Strings of gold twinkled above our heads, and the music pulsed with just enough bass to keep the energy alive. Couples danced, laughed, posed for photos.
And Liam and I — we were right in the middle of it all.
He leaned down as we walked in and said, "You okay?"
I nodded. "I feel like I'm dreaming."
His hand squeezed my waist just gently enough that I felt it through the fabric of my dress. "You're not. This is real. You are this girl, Zara."
That's what made it worse.
Because the way he said it — like he actually believed it — made me forget how guarded I was supposed to be.
We took a photo together, and I barely registered the flash because he made me laugh right as the shutter clicked. A real laugh — not forced or shy. Just me.
"Can we sit for a bit?" I asked after we'd greeted a few more people.
He nodded, guiding me through the crowd to one of the decorated tables.
"People are staring at you," I whispered, trying not to fidget.
"They're staring at you," he corrected. "I'm just the guy lucky enough to stand beside you tonight."
That… that did something to me.
My heart stuttered.
My stomach twisted into that stupid nervous knot that only Liam seemed to know how to create.
Was this what falling in love felt like?
No. No, I couldn't be in love.
Could I?
I watched him for a second — the way he reached for my hand, how his thumb traced tiny circles over mine. How his attention never drifted even when friends came by to chat or joke. He always came back to me. Like I was his center.
And the scariest part was — I wanted to be.
I wanted to let go of all the doubt and just… be with him. Let myself fall. Hard. Fast. Completely.
But a small part of me still remembered Kaylee's warning.
Still remembered how it felt to be blindsided.
Still remembered that Liam Hunter had a reputation long before he ever looked in my direction.
Yet here I was — in his arms, at prom, wearing a dress that took me out of my comfort zone and made me feel like maybe I belonged in the spotlight too.
Tonight, I wasn't the tomboy. I wasn't the girl with the complicated home life, or the girl whose best friend betrayed her.
Tonight, I was just Zara.
And Liam made me feel like that was enough.
He leaned in, close enough for me to feel his breath on my neck. "Dance with me?"
"I don't know how," I said, biting back a grin.
"I'll teach you," he replied, already standing and holding out his hand.
And just like that, I let him lead me to the dance floor.
Because for once, I didn't want to think. I didn't want to second guess.
I just wanted to feel.
Even if it meant falling further.
Even if it meant I wouldn't recover