“Oh.” I sit up in bed and slide on my bear-claw slippers, every muscle in my body groaning. “Thanks.” I check under the sheets for any potential morning embarrassment. Last night I dreamed that Tucker picked me up for prom in the pumpkin carriage from Cinderella.

She takes a sip of her coffee, standing there in the doorway in a fuzzy robe with her hair swirled into a bun. “You hadn’t said anything about it, and I figured I should pick something up before it was too late. You know Regina at Levine’s is always letting me know when they get your size in, so she was able to get me something ordered. We can bring it in to get it tailored or Grammy could always do it, too.”

I rub my knuckles into my eyes and stand. “That was thoughtful.” I’m trying my best not to sound disappointed. I don’t know what I expected to wear to prom. I unzip the garment bag down the center to find a black tuxedo with a white tux shirt and pants on a separate hanger. It’s nice. But plain.

“Grammy has all those bow ties of Grampy’s. I thought you could go over there and see what you could find.”

I pull the jacket out to try it on.

“I even thought about getting you a top hat, but if we’re lucky you’ll be wearing a crown.”

“Lord willing and the creek don’t rise,” I tell her, quoting one of Grammy’s favorite old-timey Southernisms.

She laughs while I check myself out. The jacket fits, but it’s boxy and is definitely the kind of thing specifically constructed to hide a body instead of display it.

“Is it a rental?” I ask.

“All yours. I always say tux rentals are a scam. Do you like it?” she asks, her voice slightly eager.

I nod. It feels nice, but it doesn’t feel like enough. It doesn’t feel like the version of Waylon I’m ready for the world to see.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. “I saved all the receipts. Honestly, I bought it on a whim. You’ve been so busy, and I didn’t want you fighting half your senior class for whatever’s left this week. You know most of those boys haven’t given a single thought to what they’ll wear to prom.”

“No, no,” I tell her. “It’s really nice. I think I need to find the right bow tie.” I remember Kyle and Alex’s matching bow ties, and I can’t help but wonder how Tucker and I would look in matching bow ties.

“All right, baby, I’m going to do my hair and then we’ve got family dinner at Grammy’s later. Bring the suit.”