Sienna
The school didn’t look like the school anymore. By the time the sun dipped and the first cars began to roll up, the parking lot was alive—buzzing with music, chatter, headlights flashing across sequined dresses and polished shoes. A red carpet had been laid out at the entrance, lined with balloons that glowed under string lights, and students poured in, some arriving in limos, others in flashy rentals, a few even pulling up on motorcycles just to show off.
The bass of the music shook from inside the gym, leaking out through the double doors. Laughter, shouts, the click of heels on pavement—it was chaos in its most colorful form.
Jaxon and I didn’t make a scene. He pulled up in his car, clean and simple, the windows down just enough to let the cool night air in. We weren’t here to
