Years from now, my efforts to hide the fact I went to both prom and anti-prom would be in vain, when my friend—the host of anti-prom— finds a polaroid in my room I took at prom. Back then, though, I wouldn’t know that.

Who thinks about the future at prom anyways? It’s the most important night in a teenager’s life; the culmination of our final four years of youth. I heard some people complain about the lack of alcohol, but they didn’t realize this would be the last party they ever attend that doesn’t have alcohol. I didn’t realize it either at the time.

I arrived late, when dinner was over and the partying begun an hour ago. I was weary from the energy of anti-prom, but I couldn’t just not go to prom.

Honestly, I didn’t care as much as I should’ve when a teacher informed me I could’ve came in without a ticket, since the ticket only covered the costs of dinner anyways. It was my parents’ money. I never had a job yet, nor was I poor, so the value of $75 went over my head.

I was more concerned with the fact that the dance floor was empty, save for the six or so people who stood there. Yes, stood there. They weren’t even dancing.

After I went around and greeted my friends, I was surprised to see some of them sitting alone. “Aren’t you gonna go dance or something?” I asked.

“No. Drake didn’t ask me.” Mavis grumbled dejectedly, her chin in the palm of her hand.

This shocked me as well. Why would someone be unable to dance without a person to ask them to? Much less from someone who hardly knew her. Drake was her crush, yet they were more like acquaintances.

It must’ve been cruel of me to wonder why Mavis was sitting here alone, waiting for a movie miracle that would not happen.

“Why not ask him yourself?” I furrowed my brows and smiled.

To this day, I can’t remember what her answer was. Perhaps it wasn’t profound enough to stick with me. I left to go speak with someone else.

“I have no one to dance with.” Lorenzo explained to me when I asked him why he was sitting alone too.

I rejected him when he asked me to prom a few weeks ago. I can’t remember why I did, but he’d grow up to become someone entangled with the police, so I dodged a bullet. Still, I could’ve felt guilty, yet I was annoyed instead. What, was he expecting me to pity him enough to ask him to dance?

“Mavis is looking for someone to dance with. You could dance with her!” I suggested with a warm grin. In my mind, it was the perfect solution. They were friends, so they could help each other feel better, and no one would have to be alone.

But then Lorzeno waved his hand and said, “Nah, it’s fine.”

This was very stupid, I thought.

Every movie I’ve ever watched depicted prom as a place with a crowded dance floor and boundless energy. But a mere glance around the room, and all the people sitting around, alone, on their phones or staring at the wall, made me feel like such teenage magic was a Hollywood myth.

Was dancing alone really worse than not dancing at all?

One of my last memories in prom was taking a polaroid picture with some of my friends in a photo booth. I grew apart with everyone in that picture over the years, but I keep it up in my room anyways. It’s just nice to know I didn’t dance alone that night.