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Prologue

Easton

Sometimes the Light Does Fade

Age Eighteen

“Only you would turn going to prom alone into an act of rebellion.” Elodie pops a potato chip into her mouth as she stares at Lennon across the cafeteria table. It’s a typical lunch for the three of us, with me sitting back while they carry most of the conversation.

Lennon lifts her shoulder, smacking her gum as usual. “I just don’t feel like I need a date to have a good time, you know?”

Elodie gawks at her. “But it’s prom!”

“Elodie, it’s not that big of a deal. Prom is made out to be this societal rite of passage, with all this pressure to have a certain experience, or else it’s deemed a monumental failure. Who needs that kind of stress at seventeen?”

Elodie points a finger across the space between them. “So you’re telling me that if a boy asked you to be his date, you’d tell him no?”

Lennon considers the question for a moment before responding. “I mean…I guess it would depend on who asked me.”

Elodie shoots me a pointed look, but I quickly avert my gaze. Refusing to let me off that easy, Elodie clears her throat. “What about you, Easton?” Her hand lands on my forearm, pulling my gaze back to her. “Do you have a date yet?”

Lennon chuckles before I can respond. “Easton wanted to ask Abby Phillips, but Trent Allen beat him to it.”

I nod, going along with the lie. “Yeah, so I guess I’m going stag too.”

Elodie rolls her eyes. “God, I wish people knew how to tell the truth.”

Lennon furrows her brows. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Elodie waves her off before standing and pulling her tray from the table. “Never mind. I need to go to Mrs. Cook’s class to make up a quiz before lunch is over. I’ll catch you guys later.”

Lennon and I both watch Elodie saunter off before Lennon smacks her lips, drawing my attention back to her. “God, can you believe her?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can’t believe she thinks that prom is such a big deal.” Lennon takes a sip from her water bottle before continuing. “It’s just a stupid dance.”

Moving my fork through the mashed potatoes on my plate, I shrug. “I don’t know. I think there’s something to be said for rites of passage.”

Lennon leans forward in her seat. “You can’t be serious, Easton.”

“Why not? I know if a girl I was interested in was excited about prom, I’d want to make the night special for her.”

She eyes me curiously. “Like Abby?”

Clearing my throat, I flash her my most convincing smile. “Sure. Like Abby.” Lennon purses her lips, but I continue. “You really wouldn’t be into it if a guy wanted to share that night with you? Bought you flowers to match your dress, looked at you like you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, danced with you and no one else, and gave you an experience you wouldn’t forget?”

Her face falls, but she recovers quickly. Luckily, I know Lennon Riley better than anyone, so I know that she’s not revealing her true feelings on the matter. The girl rarely does. She’s perfected that armor she wears proudly, convincing the people around her and herself that she doesn’t take life too seriously.

But I know better.

She clears her throat before responding, keeping her eyes anywhere but on mine. “I guess it would be flattering.”

The corner of my mouth lifts. “Damn, how did that taste?”

Her gaze snaps back to mine. “What?”

“You actually telling the truth.”