Every time I saw Macy for the rest of the day she would run up to me and hug me and say, “Thank you, oh, thank you so much!” I kept wanting to say, “He might say know, you know.” But I didn’t. And finally came football.

After practice was over I walked into the locker room and found Warren packing his bag. Let’s get this over with… I thought as I trudged toward him.

“Hey,” I said to him.

“Hey,” He said back, looking up from his bag at me.

“Listen I, uh, have a question for you,” I said timidly.

“Yeah? What is it?” He asked, zippering his bag.

“Um, well, it’s Macy. She, uh, wanted me to ask you, um uh, if you would go to the, uh, prom with her,” I finally got out. I don’t why it was so hard. I mean, it’s Warren he’s a guy. Though he may be popular, he’s my friend (though he kind of ignores me outside practice for reputation reasons).

He thought for a second, then looked up at me and smiled, “Yeah. Tell her yes.” For some reason it didn’t sound right. I tried to shake it off.