Cheng promposed to me in, like, the best way. I had gone home to the apartment after lunch, and when I returned, we were supposed to meet at the arts building. He had claimed his team needed props for a fundraising calendar they were doing: “Legs of Lacrosse.” (Those boys never lacked confidence in their looks, a kind of self-esteem premised heavily on ASA being too small for any serious competition.)

He wasn’t in the lobby, so I headed into the auditorium. There must have been fifty students in the front rows, and for a dizzying moment, I thought I had missed something on the social calendar. (Like I ever would.) Before I could process that the crowd was entirely a mix of kids from drama and lacrosse and our English class, I felt arms on either side of me: Taji and Cree, the modern dance squad co-captains, were gliding me down the center aisle to the stage.

Someone cued up “Bloom” by Troye Sivan, and the rest of the troupe materialized around me as a flash mob. They were all doing this sexy flower thing, and I was dying because I suddenly understood what was happening. As the song reached its chorus, Cheng appeared from the wings, holding a sign with the lyrics changed to, “I PROM JUST FOR YOU.”

He verbed prom—can you stand it? And seriously, the whole school started using it to describe their dream dates. “I prom for Katrina … I prom for Vikram …”

I know what you’re thinking: I’m lucky enough to have a boyfriend who started an entire prom meme, and yet here I am whipping up a promposal for someone else. If I ever get to tell him this story, I hope I have not discovered the end of Cheng’s chill. I’ll just say the truth: I’m doing this for Chaz, not me. Cheng and I have had so many good times—our Darien Lakes trips alone are right out of a rom-com montage, and Gay Pride was Insta gold—and he’s not even my first boyfriend. But what has Chaz had? A girlfriend with a terrible name and no love life. I can give him one special night, a night where he’s closer to his true self than ever before. One that absolutely won’t end in tragedy. It’s practically public service, and if Cheng minds—well, I’ll cross that bridge when I time travel to it.

There are limits to what I can come up with here on a few hours’ notice and no access to amazing props. And first I have to talk to Leeza. I’m not asking to ditch her—it wouldn’t be safe for me and Chaz to be out out at prom (ugh, now who sounds like Mom?). If we all go together, it provides cover. Plus, she’s bound to have good ideas.