“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “I’m just happy is all.”

And I meant it.

“Pictures!” said Wynonna. “We gotta get pictures!”

The photo area was set up in an adjacent classroom, with posterboard signs and arrows guiding the way. The pictures were being taken against a painted snowy backdrop, framed between two fake frosted pine trees. The four of us agreed we wanted our picture taken together. Wynonna took the far end. I took the opposite end, forcing Holden and Imogen in the middle, paired with our respective dates.

“Okay, on the count of three,” said the photographer. “One…”

Flash.

Suddenly, I was on the opposite end of our group, next to Holden.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said, in Wynonna’s voice.

“Two…” said the photographer. He looked immensely confused.

Holden looked at me, and Imogen looked at Wynezra, who was rolling her head back in exasperation.

“STOP!” Imogen and Holden screamed simultaneously.

They wordlessly swapped sides so that Imogen was next to me, and Holden was next to Wynezra. Imogen grabbed my bare arm and pulled me close, smiling.

“I got your back,” she said, winking at me.

Holden attempted to follow suit, wrapping his arm around Wynezra’s waist. Except that, since Wynezra was significantly taller, he leaned into her instead.

“Okay,” said Holden, grinning. “We’re ready.”

Wynezra’s anemic complexion had turned magenta.

The photographer—perplexed but not perturbed—took our picture.

We looked great. Maybe even Happily Ever After-ish.

As we exited the room, Imogen and I were arm in arm. Holden and Wynezra were hand in hand. And then we crossed paths with Jayden and Thad—faces still swollen and purplish—and their respective dates. I didn’t know either girl, but I had half a mind to lean into both of their ears and tell them to run.

They didn’t pay much attention to Imogen and me. They were far more interested in Holden and Wynezra holding hands.

“I knew it!” said Thad. “I knew you two were a couple of queers!”

Wynezra unlatched from Holden’s hand. Strode up to Thad, fists compressed, arms swinging at her sides like a pair of wrecking balls.

“Oh shit,” said Thad. He turned and ran—abandoning his date, scampering around the corner.

Wynezra turned on Jayden.

“Whoa, hey!” said Jayden, lifting both hands in the air. “I’m cool. My dads are gay.”

It was a good thing Jayden’s face still looked like a sack of plums. Otherwise, I might have hunted down Mr. and Mr. Hoxsie and told them what misogynistic pieces of shit their son and his homophobic best friend were.

Back in the gymnasium, everyone was sweaty and out of breath. Even teenagers were no match for Ziggy’s affinity for EDM. Ziggy read the crowd and decided to show a little mercy. He strung several slow songs together—slow songs with just enough innuendo and sexual tension to keep things interesting without alarming the authorities.