Chapter 37: Prom Prep Begins
(Lyra's POV)
It's been two days since the elevator incident, and somehow, I still feel his hands gripping mine — steady, grounding, like he could hold the world together if he wanted to.
Every time I blink, I remember the darkness, the panic, the way his voice cut through it. "I'm right here, Sol."
And he was.
I shake my head, scribbling random lines on my notebook to look busy. Totally fine. Totally not replaying how I accidentally leaned against his chest.
"Earth to Lyra!"
Soraya's voice drags me back to the present — the cafeteria, the noise, the sound of my friends laughing.
"You've been smiling at your notebook for like ten minutes," she says, squinting at me. "What are you even writing? A love poem?"
I snap my notebook shut. "I wasn't smiling!"
Saphira leans in with that mischievous grin of hers. "Mhm. Sure, Sol."
They all burst out laughing, and I bury my face in my hands. I can literally feel my cheeks burning.
"Anyway," Aveline says, saving me (kind of). "We have business. Prom."
I groan. "Already?"
"Yes, already," Soraya says, flipping open her planner like it's a sacred text. "Theme: Midnight Glow. So we need outfits, music, food, transportation, and—"
Cassian interrupts with a sigh. "Do we also need therapy for how broke I'm about to be?"
"Only if you're paying for your tux in tears," Aveline says, smirking.
They start bickering, and I can't help but laugh. It feels… good. Normal. After everything, normal feels rare.
That is, until Soraya suddenly gasps dramatically.
"First order of business—Lyra's dress!"
"What? No!" I protest. "We're not starting with me."
"Yes, we are," Saphira says, pointing at me with her straw. "Birthday girl of the month. Girl who survived suspension. And also—" she leans forward— "the girl Evan can't stop staring at."
"Stop!" I groan.
"Black?" Soraya hums. "Blue? Red? Something glittery?"
Rina, who's been FaceTiming in from home, adds, "Champagne gold. Classy. You'll glow."
Aveline grins. "Something that'll make him forget how to breathe."
I roll my eyes so hard I might actually lose them. "You guys are impossible."
"Yup," Cassian says from beside Aveline, sipping his drink. "And proud of it."
By the time lunch is over, the table's covered in magazine clippings, color palettes, and half-eaten fries. I doodle a quick sketch — soft champagne silk, with delicate shimmer — and before I can even blink, everyone's cheering like I just won an award.
Later that night, when I'm in bed scrolling through Pinterest, my phone buzzes.
Evan: So… rumor has it you're planning your prom outfit already.
Me: You stalking me or something?
Evan: Maybe. Gotta make sure my date looks good.
Me: Date?
Evan: Hypothetically. Unless you're free.
Me: We'll see, hero.
My heart is hammering. This boy is going to kill me.
A few seconds later—another ping.
Evan: Also… about the elevator.
Me: Yeah?
Evan: I'd break every light in that building again if it meant you'd look at me like that one more time.
I actually drop my phone onto my face.
Lying there in the dark, I can't stop smiling. Outside, the city hums quietly, soft and alive. And for the first time, prom doesn't feel terrifying.
It feels like something I'm waiting for.
Something that might change everything.