I do not know how long I stayed there. Long enough for my legs to go numb. Long enough for the hallway light to change.
A few days later, someone knocked.
I opened the door in yesterday’s clothes. Eli stood on the porch in a faded hoodie, holding a small notebook to his chest. He looked nervous. He also looked certain, which was new for him.
“Mrs. Mave. Can I talk to you out here?”
I stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind me.
“Is Hazel okay? Did she text you?”
“No, ma’am.” He inhaled. “I need her measurements.”
“Eli, what—”
“Prom is in two weeks. I can do this. I know how that sounds. But I need you to trust me. And I need you not to tell her anything. Not one word.”
I stared at the boy I had watched grow up just two houses away. Seventeen years old. Chewed fingernails. Holding that notebook like it was a signed agreement.
