“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say, staring at the sprawl of taffeta, sequins, and embroidery before me.

McKenna laughs and drags me into the boutique. “I can’t believe you were going to show up at a prom-themed reunion in a regular old dress. If we’re going, we’ve got to do this right.”

Lulu ambles in behind us, smirking at the racks of pastel gowns. If I remember right, she went dark and sleek for her senior prom, but that obviously isn’t stopping her from finding our shopping excursion highly entertaining.

“Since you insisted on coming along, you’d better be more than a spectator,” I tell her. “Help me find something that’ll look halfway decent.”

The stretch of her smirk gives me a bad feeling. She claps her hands. “I can definitely find you some possibilities.”

I paw through one of the racks, already feeling ready to suffocate from tackiness, and my phone dings.

Hey gorgeous. How’s “prom” prep going?

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling, too. Your sister is insisting on stuffing me into a full-out gown. Still sure you want to escort me to this thing?

Are you kidding me? I’m not missing Maggie Hayes in a gown. Especially when I’ll get to be the one taking it off of you too.

I guess I’d better find one with an easy access zipper then.

“Hey!” McKenna says, nudging me. “Save the flirting for tonight. We’ve got serious work to do here.”

My cheeks warm. Is it that obvious who I’m talking to? “Yeah, yeah,” I say.

Lulu shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “You are too cute over that guy. It’s a good thing he seems just as hung up on you. Here.”

I stuff my phone into my purse to accept the frilly lilac number she thrusts at me. I eye it skeptically. “This would make me look like a layer cake.”

“Try it on anyway. You’ve got to get some laughs in too. That’s part of the fun, right?”

McKenna pulls a rose-pink gown off the rack and holds it to her slim frame. The frothy monstrosity looks like it’s about to swallow her whole. “Too much?”

“Take off half the gauze and all the rhinestones, and maybe it’d be okay,” I laugh.

“Hmm.” She hangs it back up and moves to a row of black-and-white strapless options, which might have been more sedate if they weren’t all gleaming with crystals and glitter. Did an eight-year-old run through here with a Bedazzler? I’m not at all against dressing up, but I prefer not to blind anyone in the process.

Lulu drops another couple dresses into my arms. I’m afraid to look at them too closely, but one is neon pink—Lord help me—and the other has so many sequins they hiss against each other as I shift the load in my arms.

“Let me help you with that!” The shop attendant hustles over, her voice perky and bright enough to rival the store’s wares. “I’ll start a change room for you.”

I guess I should be glad she isn’t looking at us as if it’s insane for a couple of thirty-or-nearly women to be shopping in this place at all.

I edge farther into the store and manage to find a plum sheath dress that only has a little silvery embroidery along the hems. McKenna wrinkles her nose when she catches up with me. “Oh, come on. That’s hardly in the right spirit.”

“Is the right spirit that I’m supposed to terrify everyone who sets eyes on me?”

“Think of it this way. Don’t you want Drew staring at you all night?”

“Sure, but preferably not in horror.” I elbow her. “I haven’t heard you mention a date. Why am I the only one getting the full humiliation experience?”

“Oh, I’d happily subject the right guy to tonight,” McKenna says. “I just don’t have him yet. All my free time has been going to the new app.”

“You said it’s something to do with matchmaking, right? Couldn’t you justify a little ‘research’ along the way?”

She grins. “Maybe later. Although I’m not sure it’s advisable for the inventor to also act as test subject.”

“You make it sound like you’re coming up with the mad scientist version of online dating,” Lulu says, re-joining us. “When you’re done, let me know—I totally want to try that out.”

We all start giggling. For a second, it feels like we really are high-school girls again, getting ready for “the big night.” Lulu adds a couple more finds to the room the clerk started for me, and I bring my plum number and a slightly subdued black halter over. “I think I’d better get started trying things on while there’s still room for me in here.”

“We have to see them,” Lulu instructs me. “No chickening out.”

I try on the frilly lilac one first, and yep, I look exactly like a cake. I step out, cringing. At the same time McKenna emerges in a swath of sequined aqua-blue that I imagine might accurately represent mermaid vomit. We take one look at each other and crack up.

“Okay, back to the drawing board.”

I snap a selfie in the mirror before I peel it off. So you’ll be grateful that whatever I do end up in isn’t as horrifying as this, I text along to Drew with the pic.

I agree, that’s pretty bad. How about replacing the image in my brain with one of you without it on?

Nice try. You can take a good long look tonight.

Oh, I’m going to do a lot more than look, gorgeous.

Is it getting a little hot in here? I’m definitely flushed as I reach for the next dress.

The neon pink looks like someone’s pasted a giant bubble-gum wrapper on me. “I am not coming out in this one,” I say. “You’ll thank me for not making your eyes bleed.”

“Oh, come on,” Lulu wheedles.

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty more embarrassment to come.”

I pull on the flapper-esque number that appears to be constructed more out of sequins than fabric. With the racket it makes, everyone would hear me coming before they see me. I duck out just long enough for Lulu to have her fun.

She cocks her head. “The shape isn’t bad.”

“I think I’ll aim for a little better than that.”

I switch to the dresses I picked out next, but honestly, the plum one is kind of boring. It doesn’t look that different from something I’d wear to a regular dinner out. Lulu pulls a face when I show her, and McKenna makes a veto motion. Not that she’s in much position to judge, given that she’s got about a ton of lime-green taffeta floating around her at that moment.

“I know, I know,” I grumble. “Not in the spirit.” Now that I’ve gotten started, I have to admit I kind of want to make one of the hideous prom dresses work.

“How about the blue one?” my sister urges.

I sigh. “Okay, I’ll try that one now.”

I can tell it’s going to be monstrous. The skirt is poufy before I even get it on, and sweetheart necklines and I tend not to get along. I brace myself and turn toward the change room’s mirror. And then I stand there staring at myself.

I look like the girl from a prom scene in every teen movie ever. Except not the awkward ugly duckling who doesn’t know how to dress herself. No, this would be the moment when the awkward girl walks into the room, and everyone does a double-take, because they can’t believe it’s even her, she looks so amazing.

The midnight-blue fabric sets off my skin and hair as well as it always does. I hardly paid attention to the color because of the cut and the beads woven into the skirt. But the neckline is high enough that my boobs aren’t popping out while still teasing a little cleavage. My waist looks trim above the flowing skirt. And the tiny beads twinkle here and there like stars in the night sky.

My breath has caught in my throat. There might be a lump in there too. This is exactly the dress I’d have wanted to wear to the dream prom I never got back then.

Which means I have to wear it now, don’t I?

Lulu and McKenna are chatting when I step out. McKenna’s got on a scarlet A-line that looks impressively good on her, and Lulu is motioning as if recommending accessories. They both fall silent, blinking, when they catch sight of me.

“I knew it!” Lulu crows. “That’s it. That’s the one.”

McKenna nods. “Absolutely.”

“Class of 2007, here I come!”

My heart feels almost fluttery as I change back into my regular clothes. Picturing Drew’s face when he sees me in that gown. Maybe it is a little cheesy, but he’ll get it, right?

And I am looking forward to the part where it takes it off too.

I’m just coming out of the room when my phone rings. It’s Gio, my New York bakery partner turned competition—not that we’ve been on anything but friendly terms.

I hand the dress to the clerk—“I’ll be right back to pay for that.”—and scoot outside to answer.

“Hey, Gio,” I say. “How’s life with the great Sunny Street?”

“Pretty great,” he says. “But I’m not going to lie, I miss our place sometimes. It looks like there’s a way we could be working together at least peripherally again, though.”

My ears perk up. “What do you mean?” Gio’s one of the people I put out feelers to, but I didn’t expect to hear anything this soon.

“You know Suzanne Agnelli?”

“Of course.” She’s only the most famous pastry chef in all of New York state. Every kid in culinary school dreams of getting an internship with her. Maybe one of her underlings has set up their own shop and needs help.

“Well, she’s looking for a new baker to work directly under her. It turns out she had someone bring her cupcakes from your shop a little before we closed. She was really impressed—I talked to her at a dinner thing—she said she hasn’t been happy with anyone she’s interviewed so far, and she’d like to have it filled by next week. The spot’s pretty much yours if you want it.”

My jaw falls open. It takes me a few seconds to recover my voice. “Wait,” I say. “I could be working under the Suzanne Agnelli?”

“I know! I’m jealous. But you deserve it, Mags. Should I tell her you’ll be in touch? She said I could pass on her private number.”

Holy fuck. My head is spinning. I take a deep breath and try to think. Next week I could be packed up and headed back to NYC? It’s too much to process.

“Give me her number,” I say. “But don’t say anything to her yet. I have to check on some logistics.”

“Sure,” Gio says, but he sounds a little surprised. “Don’t take too long, though. You know how many people here would kill for that spot.”

I would have killed for it a month ago—but now there’s a lump in my throat even thinking about it. I hang up and lean back against the store window, my head spinning.

What am I thinking? I have to take this, right? When is another opportunity like that going to come along? It’s not as if I ever planned on staying here in Philly.

But my thoughts are immediately tugged to Drew. To the electricity that races through me every time he kisses me. To that grin that lights me up inside. Leaving Philly means leaving him.

But it’s only been a few weeks. Casual. Fun. Sure, he jokingly calls me his girlfriend, but we haven’t even had The Talk yet. Neither of us has said anything about getting really serious, about making plans for the future. It’d be crazy to turn down a job like this for a chance with a guy. Wouldn’t it?

But Drew isn’t just any guy . . .

My mind is still whirling as I walk back into the store to buy my dress. As I reach the counter, my phone sounds with another alert. I pick it up.

Since you’re pulling out all the stops, I figured I should too. Expect a surprise tonight.

My chest clenches. My dream has a chance to get back on track—right when my dream guy is right here in front of me.

What the hell am I going to do?