Betty clutched Stacey’s arm tightly as they stepped inside the gym glittered with strings of lights and shimmering decorations. The air buzzed with music and laughter. Betty’s dress’s delicate beading catching the light with every step. For the first time, she felt eyes on her that weren’t accompanied by snickers or whispers. Instead, the stares held something unfamiliar: admiration.
Stacey leaned in, her lips curving into a proud smile. "See? You’re killing it."
Betty glanced around nervously, her hand adjusting the strap of her dress. "I don’t know about that," she muttered, but her lips twitched into a small, tentative smile.
The two stuck together as the night unfolded, dancing to a few songs, exchanging sarcastic remarks about the overly formal couples, and sampling the mediocre snacks at the punch table. For the first time in weeks, Betty felt lighter, the crushing weight of grief lifting just enough to let her breathe.
"Okay," Stacey said, laughing as she set her plastic cup down on the table. "I’m not saying the DJ’s good, but he’s at least better than the guy from homecoming last year."
"You mean the one who played 'Cotton Eye Joe' three times in a row?"
"Exactly. At least this one knows how to read a crowd. I mean—" her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "I still can’t believe Megan’s pregnant."
The words hit Betty like a slap. "What?"
She froze, her laughter dying instantly.
Stacey’s face went pale, the color draining as she realized her slip. "I—uh. Forget it."
Betty grabbed her arm. "Stacey, what are you talking about?"
Before Stacey could answer, a familiar voice interrupted. "Betty."
She turned to see Brent standing a few feet away, his tuxedo slightly rumpled
"We need to talk."
Stacey hesitated, her gaze shifting between Betty and Brent. "It’s better if you hear it from him," she whispered finally, stepping away before Betty could stop her.
"Stacey!" Betty called, but her sister was already retreating into the crowd.
She turned back to Brent, her stomach twisting into knots. "What’s going on?"
"Not here," he said.
Betty’s heart pounded as she followed him. Megan’s pregnant. The words echoed in her head, and no matter how she tried to piece them together, the picture didn’t make sense.
"Betty," Brent began, as they reached a secluded corner, his voice low, "there’s something I need to tell you. And you’re not going to like it."