At about eleven o'clock, after Speed and I had sat at makeshift cardboard "thrones" and waved scepters around and looked like idiots and, at some point, actually danced, prom ended, and we were on our way home.

Or so I thought.

Still wearing our little plastic crowns, we went back to the Mach 5. Before he opened my door, I put my hand on his cheek and confessed, "I had so much fun."

"Night's not over yet," he said. But he didn't elaborate, and I was left to wonder what he meant as we slipped into our seats. He turned the key in the ignition and started off again, but in the wrong direction.

"Hey, where are we going?" I asked. "Home is that way!" I pointed behind us.

"Really?" he inquired sarcastically. "I had no idea." He chortled at his own humor and said, "Don't worry, Trixie, it's just another surprise." My mouth dropped. How could this night be any better? I looked into the street. I had this bad feeling that anything else he could try would only mess it up.

"Close your eyes," he requested.

"Why?" I asked.

"Please," he begged. So I shut my eyes and let him continue driving until he told me to open them. I looked around at the budding trees and knew immediately where we were. All the girls at school talked about what they'd done and who they'd like to meet here.

"Gee, you're subtle," I said. "Inspiration Point?"

Speed shrugged, "It's pretty, isn't it?"

"Well…" I said awkwardly, "yeah." The city below was just a pathway of colors and the sky seemed endless from where we sat.

We both leaned back into our seats. Speed looked over to me and asked, "Remember when we were ten and said we'd never come here with anyone?" I pointed at him, nodded, and laughed, "What changed your mind?"

"You did," he said. "I wouldn't come here with anyone else." He shook his head, "Back then I never thought we'd be more than pals. I mean, you were the smartest girl at school and the prettiest in town … and I almost got you blown up."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that," I said, recalling the first time he'd brought me home at the age of eight. Long story short; don't trust a man in a '58 Fenderson who says he's a "big fan." Still, completely flattered by his words, I put my hands on my heart and whispered, "I love you."

"What's that?" he asked, clearly having not heard me.

"Nothing!" I said quickly. Speed and I hadn't even been dating for a year. Any "I love you's" would be illogically premature. "I was just saying that this was the best night of my life."

"Ah," he corrected, pointing at me. "You mean best night of your life so far." I lifted myself out of my seat and asked, "Does mean there are better ones to come, Mr. Prom King?"

"If I have anything to say about it," he assured me. And I believed him. After all, the whole night proved to me that Speed knew more about relationships than I gave him credit for.

"Come here," I said, pulling him close to me by the shoulders for a kiss.

And that was the first of what I was sure would be many meetings at Inspiration Point.