Between schoolwork and preparing for prom, the next week goes by in a flash. The weekend is split between working on homework and texting Sun to figure out when and where to meet up before the dance. On Monday, Acerola and I head back to the mall after school to look for heels – we didn't find any that I liked on Friday – and find a nice pair of silver ones with only a two-inch heel. On Tuesday, I spend all my free time working on my English essay, which is due Wednesday morning. On Wednesday, I spend my free period researching florists in the area and pick out one to visit after school, where I order a boutonniere – which I now know is a little flower that I'll pin to the lapel of Sun's jacket before the dance. On Thursday, I get together with my partner to put the finishing touches on our history project for Olivia.

Finally, Friday arrives, and with it comes a fresh round of nerves. I have no idea what to expect from prom besides a big room crowded full of people, and I guess there must be more to it than that because people wouldn't make such a big deal about it otherwise. The idea of spending a whole night with Sun also sets butterflies fluttering in my stomach, but that fluttering feels lighter, somehow.

I hope he likes my dress.

I'm still nervous about how I'm going to look. The dress and shawl we picked out look nice together, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they'll look nice with my face. Acerola is going to do my makeup, which is a small relief; I've never put on makeup before in my life. She claims to have someone really good who's going to do my hair, but she won't tell me who it is. I don't even know what kind of style they're going to give me – not that I'd really know what to ask for if I could.

When I get to school, almost everyone is buzzing with excitement for prom. Conversations about it continue throughout all of homeroom, not even stopping when Principal Oak comes onto the morning announcements to remind us that we can't go to prom unless we're present for the whole school day. It takes my first period teacher ten minutes to get the class quiet enough to start the day's lesson, and my second period teacher doesn't even try to teach us – he just gives us the period off and reminds us to study for Monday's test.

In gym class, Coach Kahili tells us to work out on the exercise machines for twenty minutes and use the rest of class to do whatever we like. For what seems like the first time that day, I'm able to appreciate a little bit of peace and quiet while we do our workouts. But of course, as soon as the first two girls finish, they start talking about some of the things that they're going to do with their dates that night. The rest of the class is quick to follow suit. Even Lana, a junior who's normally pretty quiet, joins in on one of the conversations.

"We're going to see Porygon2: Interstellar Warrior," Lana says. "Sophocles was looking up its critical reviews yesterday, and they say it's even better than the first one."

"Wait, it's out already?" Mallow asks.

"Today's opening day. Sophocles and I both wanted to see it, so we're going together right after school…"

"Will you still have enough time to get ready?" Lillie asks, knitting her brow in concern.

Lana nods. "We're getting a quick dinner at Café-Amie. And we're not in a hurry to get there right when they open the doors or anything. It's okay if we're a little bit late."

"Oh, wow, I could never do that! I want to spend as much time at the dance as I can. We're getting there at 8 o'clock sharp so we can be first in line for the formal photos, and then it's off to the dance floor! Kiawe promised me three slow dances tonight, but I'm aiming for at least four. I requested a bunch of slow songs so they won't run out of options!"

"Be careful, that many slow songs might put him to sleep," I smirk. I have to admit, though, Mallow's enthusiasm is infectious. By the time gym is over, I'm more excited than I am nervous about the upcoming dance.

I shoot Sun a smile when I walk into history class, but we don't have time to talk – Olivia wants all of us to present our projects to the class, and she wants to get through everyone in one day. Each team's presentation is short – less than 5 minutes – but still, the last group doesn't finish until the final bell rings. I get up and join the throng of students rushing out the door, but I stop as soon as I get out of the doorway, waiting for Sun to slip by. We've both been so busy this week that we haven't spoken in person since he asked me to prom, and I want to talk to him before then.

When I spot him, I reach out and snag his sleeve. "Psst, delivery boy," I say, tugging him out of the crowd to stand beside a row of lockers. He grins when he sees me, which stirs a pleasant warmth in my chest.

"What can I do for you, Miss Customer?" he responds cheekily.

The nicknames are something of an inside joke between us that started back when we met in middle school. Sun's mom was one of the science teachers there while we were attending, and she frequently made him run errands for her during homeroom. Since I was in her homeroom, I saw Sun all the time. But I didn't know his name, so I started calling him "delivery boy" in my head. I asked him to run an errand for me one time and told him I'd give him a candy bar for his effort, to which he responded, "Sure thing, Miss Customer!" We finally learned each other's names the next year when we actually had a class together, but we still use the old nicknames sometimes for fun.

"Are you ready for tonight?" I ask him.

"You bet!" he exclaims. "Are you?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"I can't wait to see your dress," he says eagerly. "I bet you'll look fabulous in it."

"You haven't even seen it yet," I retort. "How do you know the dress I picked out isn't hideous?"

"Because I think you look fabulous in anything," Sun says without missing a beat. I stare at him, a blush creeping its way up my cheeks, and his eyes dart away from mine. "Um, and…Acerola wouldn't let you buy an ugly dress, so."

My brow furrows. How does Sun know that Acerola helped me pick out my dress? He left before the others started helping me prepare. Maybe I mentioned it while we were texting over the weekend? Ultimately, I decide that the answer's not really that important, so I don't bother asking the question. Instead, I just say, "Yeah, it's a genuine Acerola-approved outfit. I guess it can't look that bad."

We continue to chat all the way to the parking lot, where we part ways to start literally getting ready. Sun reminds me that we have a 6:30 reservation at the restaurant where we'll be having dinner with Lillie and Hau, and I promise to get there exactly one minute late. He laughs at that. I smile back.

By the time I leave school, I have about an hour and a half to get home, change into my dress, put on my jewelry, and get to Acerola's house. Acerola and I had another debate on Monday about whether or not I needed to buy new jewelry to go with the dress, but I won that one. I've collected plenty of necklaces, bracelets, and earrings over the years, and I can always steal something from my mom if I really need to. I quibble over the jewelry for a while, but eventually I pick out a necklace that I inherited from my grandma and the bracelet that my mom bought me for my eighteenth birthday, plus a pair of earrings to match. I don't want to drive in my dress any longer than is strictly necessary – I'm still afraid of tearing it or something – so I load the dress and all its accessories into the backseat. After that, all I have to do is grab my phone, wallet, and keys, and then it's out to the car and over to Acerola's house for hair and makeup.

I arrive at Acerola's house at 4:59 and knock on the front door at 5 on the dot. When the door opens, though, it's not Acerola on the other side. It's not even her mom or her dad. No, it's someone that comes as a total shock to me, who causes my jaw to literally drop open when I see her standing there.

"Hapu!?"

"Hello, Moon. It is good to see you again," she says in that formal, polite way of hers. "Where is your dress?"

"What are you doing here?" I ask. I shouldn't be that surprised to see her – she and Acerola were always pretty close, and I remember her saying that she was going to take a gap year after she graduated last May. But I haven't seen her at all since her graduation, and I definitely wasn't expecting to run into her again on my prom night, of all times.

"Acerola informed me that you are in need of a hair stylist," Hapu explains. "I came here to offer my services."

"You style hair?" I say. I cringe internally; I sound as blunt as Sun. Just because I appreciate his bluntness doesn't mean other people do.

Hapu shakes her head, letting her thick braids bounce behind her. "My hair does not look like this naturally," she says simply.

Acerola skids into my field of view, a big grin on her face. It quickly falls into a frown when she sees me, though. "Why aren't you wearing your dress?" she asks.

"Uh…was I supposed to?"

"You need to," she says. "If we're gonna do your hair and makeup, we have to be able to see what we're working with!"

"All my stuff's in the car. I can go get it?"

"Please do," Hapu says. "We will begin setting up in the kitchen."

"There's a bathroom under the stairs where you can change!" Acerola calls after me as I head back to the car.

After I've changed into my dress and put on my jewelry, I head into the kitchen, where Hapu and Acerola are waiting for me. "Ooh, you look gorgeous as ever!" Acerola exclaims when she sees me. "Don't you agree, Hap? Told you she picked an awesome dress, huh?"

"You look very beautiful in that dress, Moon," Hapu says softly. "But Acerola and I will make you look even more beautiful."

Hapu guides me to a chair and instructs me to sit back as she pulls my braids out from behind my back. "You really have grown out your hair," she comments as she undoes the braids.

Meanwhile, Acerola pulls up a chair in front of me and studies my face, glancing between it and the bottles that she has arranged on the table. "Alright, so I need to know what kind of baseline I'm working with here," she says as she selects a bottle. "What kind of experience do you have with makeup?"

"None."

"None?"

"None."

"You've never used foundation?"

"Nope."

"Concealer?"

"Never heard of it."

"Blush? Mascara? Eyeshadow?"

"No, no, and no."

"Lipstick? Surely you've at least used lipstick before?"

"Why would I? It's not like I want to draw attention to my lips."

Acerola rests her elbow on the table and lets her head fall into her palm. "Oh, honey," she sighs. "We have a lot of work to do before tonight."

She gets started with the makeup, explaining what she's doing as she goes – "so that you can do this yourself next time!" I don't have the heart to tell her that it's very unlikely that there will be a next time, and even if there is, I'm not going to be doing my makeup myself. I've gone this far in life without ever learning how to apply makeup, and I don't really care to start now. I try checking my phone while they work – I have a couple new texts from Sun – but between Hapu pulling on my hair and Acerola fiddling with my face, I can't hold my phone in a position where I can actually read the screen for longer than a second. Eventually, I just give up and half-heartedly listen to what Acerola is saying.

After a hundred bobby pins, a coating of makeup thick enough to be a second layer of skin, and enough hairspray to make me choke, Hapu and Acerola are finally done. They step back to admire their work from a distance and the smiles on their faces that stretch from ear to ear tell me how they feel about it before they've even said a word.

"Oh, Moon…you look lovely."

"I'd also use…stunning, magnificent, marvelous, and exquisite!" Acerola beams. "Come with me, you need to see how amazing you look right now!"

Acerola grabs my hand and pulls me into the master bedroom, where a full-length mirror is mounted on the far wall. Hapu joins us a moment later with my heels and shawl, the former which she places on the ground for me to slip on and the latter which she drapes over my shoulders. I let the ends of the shawl fall down over my arms and step over in front of the mirror to look at myself.

I look georgeous. There's no other way to describe it. My skirt glitters in the light and falls over my legs, the ruffles on it flowing in waves. The bodice of the dress is a pale cream color, with a nearly transparent layer of fabric layered on top of it that includes lots of swirling silver designs. A thin strap of gray wraps around my neck and holds up the bodice of the dress. The shawl is plain on its own – a long piece of cream-colored gossamer fabric, but it frames the hem of the dress perfectly and falls down in front in a way that mimics the ruffles of the skirt. My grandma's necklace is a single strand of pearly white beads punctuated by silver ones that encircles my neck right above the neckline of the dress, while the bracelet and earrings are pure silver and punctuated by rhinestones. They perfectly match the pattern on my silver heels, though the heels can only be seen when I deliberately poke them out from underneath the dress's skirt. My hair has been pulled back and pinned up behind my head with a little bit of slack, so it poofs up a little in the front, and there are two curled strands that frame the sides of my face. Meanwhile, the makeup has done some magic on my skin – my face has never looked so smooth before, my eyebrows are clearly defined, and my eyes seem to pop out on my face in a way that they never do naturally. I look like I've suddenly grown about four years older – nearly graduating college, rather than high school.

I can't help but smile in awe as I look at my reflection. I've never looked this beautiful before. "Thank you, guys," I whisper. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Acerola says, while Hapu states, "It was no trouble at all."

Acerola walks with me out to my car, carrying my phone, wallet, and keys while I hold up the skirt of my dress so it doesn't get dirty dragging on the ground. Once I'm settled into the driver's seat, she hands them over to me. "Drive safe," she says, giving me a wistful smile. "And have an awesome time."

"I'm sorry the guy you asked didn't agree to go with you," I say. "I would have liked you to come, too."

Acerola's smile falls a little, and she glances at the ground. "If you knew who I asked, you wouldn't say that."

I blink. "What? Who did you ask?"

She bites her lip for a moment and then sighs. "I asked Sun." My eyes widen, but Acerola continues talking before I can respond. "Hey, hey, don't go feeling all guilty now! He was already thinking about asking you when I asked him. Me asking just further motivated him. Besides…" Acerola looks me in the eye and smiles genuinely. "Sun really, really likes you, Moon. He's really happy about going to prom with you."

A warm, tingly feeling wells up in my heart and spreads throughout my body. "Y-you sure?"

"Definitely," Acerola declares. "Now, you go out there and show Sun a great time for the both of us, alright?"

I nod, swallowing past the lump that suddenly formed in my throat. "I will. That's a promise."


Sun: fyi

S: my mom's going to fawn over us and take all sorts of pictures before we go in

S: be prepared

Moon: I'm suddenly so glad that my dad's swamped with work today

S: he's a photo hog too?

M: he's a photo *fanatic*. Picky enough to be a professional. Loves taking photos of everything.

S: sounds a lot like my mom

S: except

S: her photos suck

M: Sun, that's rude

S: i merely speak the truth


A/N: Next chapter will probably be up two weeks from now because it's a long one and I'm also back in school now, so I don't have as much free time on my hands. But our favorite dorks will finally get to prom, so get excited for it :D