“I may have been a little nervous about it,” she confesses. “Kind of a big change. But now that I’m all out, I felt like I should actually look like me.”

“Agreed,” I say, twining my fingers with hers. “And it does look like you, which is part of why I love it.”

“What’s the other part?”

“Umm, the ‘you look really fucking hot’ part. Again, was I not clear?”

She squeezes my hand. “Nah, I just like hearing you say it.” She nips at my lower lip. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go to this dance thing? Because that looks like a pretty big limo and I’m gonna guess there’s a divider in there.”

“That is … extremely tempting,” I admit, gently tugging her toward the stairs down to said limo, “but unfortunately, there are a couple of stops to make on the Amber McCloud apology tour, so that may have to wait.”

“Ahh.” We get to the limo, where the driver—Stefan—is standing and holding the door open for us. We thank him and slide in, our hands never moving from their clasped position. “So this is another double date.”

I exhale deeply. “Here’s hoping.”

It takes all my best pleading to get Miguel dressed and in the car, complete with repeating “I got a freaking limo!” about a thousand times, but by the time we round the corner to Malcolm’s house, he’s bouncing with even more excitement than we are. Miguel had texted him to get ready in his school dance best, and Mal delivered, emerging in a pair of perfectly fitted jeans and a tailored blazer. Together, we share a bottle of sparkling cider—the only thing my mom would allow—and take turns being complete tools and sticking our heads out the window.

“All hail the rainbow brigade!” Malcolm yells, and the rest of us laugh and yank him back down. With Jack and I having very publicly come out last night, we know the focus tonight is going to be mostly on Miguel, and we want to make sure he has as good a time as possible. Even if that means letting him have control of the music.

It’s way too short a drive to school, despite having Stefan take the longest way possible, and by the time we arrive, everyone is staring: people might get limos for prom, but no one gets them for homecoming.

Then again, we’re not just anybody.