CHRIS STURNIOLO IMAGINES

A Night to Remember (The Surprise Pop-Up Prom)

It was the night of prom, and I had resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't be going. A sprained foot, courtesy of a basketball game with Matt, Nick, and Chris, had left me on crutches. The doctors advised me to rest and ice it, and walking in heels or dancing seemed impossible. I sat on the couch, staring at the midnight-blue dress I had carefully picked out months ago, imagining myself twirling around the dance floor, laughing with my friends. But now, I was stuck at home, trying to ignore the disappointment gnawing at me. Prom had been something I had dreamed about all year.

I let out a frustrated sigh, my eyes lingering on the dress. The fabric shimmered in the dim light of my living room, almost mocking me. I'd spent weeks choosing the perfect one, imagining how I would feel when I walked into that venue, surrounded by friends, with the music playing, the lights flashing, and the atmosphere alive with excitement. But now... nothing. I was stuck in my living room, with a foot wrapped in ice and my heart heavy.

"Ugh, I can't believe this is how it's going to end," I muttered under my breath, staring at the dress as though it might somehow fix everything. It felt like my dream was slipping away, one crutch step at a time.

The phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I glanced at the screen. It was Matt. I'd already had a few texts from him throughout the day, checking in and offering to pick me up for prom, even if I couldn't dance. But every time he mentioned it, a little part of me broke. I didn't want to go if I couldn't fully enjoy it, and I didn't want to be a pity case. So, I politely declined every offer.

I picked up the phone and answered. "Hey, Matt."

"Hey, Y/N! How's the foot? Are you sure you don't want us to come by and help you get ready? We could make it work, even if you can't dance."

I sighed, staring at my foot. "It's not about the dancing, Matt. It's just... it's not the same. I can't do it. I don't want to show up in a chair and miss out on everything." I paused, hating how bitter I sounded. "I'll stay home and hang out with the triplets later."

Matt paused, sounding disappointed but understanding. "Yeah, alright. Just don't forget, we're all here for you. No matter what. We'll still have fun."

"I know," I said softly, and we ended the call a few minutes later. I sat in silence for a while, watching how the light played across the dress, feeling the weight of the evening that could have been.

As I started to settle in with a cup of tea and a movie, trying to distract myself from the constant feeling of loss, I heard a knock at the door. I frowned, glancing at the clock. It was already well past ten, and I wasn't expecting anyone. Slightly annoyed at the interruption, I swung my crutches over to the door, determined to make whoever it was brief.

When I opened it, my eyes went wide with surprise. Standing there was Chris, grinning widely, holding a bouquet and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He looked like he was ready for prom—except that he was wearing an intelligent button-up shirt and jeans instead of a tuxedo, clearly not concerned with the formal dress code.

"Hey, Y/N!" Chris greeted cheerfully, his usual energy lighting up the space between us.

"Chris? What are you doing here?" I asked, completely thrown off. "Shouldn't you be at prom?"

Chris's grin widened even more if that was possible. "Funny you should ask. I'm here to take you to prom."

I blinked, still processing his words. "Take me to prom? With what, a wheelbarrow? I'm literally on crutches, Chris."

Chris chuckled and stepped inside, his grin never fading. "Exactly why I've got something else planned. You can't go to the big prom, so I'm bringing prom to you."