At 6, I Promised My Best Friend with Down Syndrome We'd Go to Prom Together – 12 Years Later, Mom Said I Could Go with Him Only on One Condition

Page 2 of 2
Advertisement

"I know."

Once we were in my bedroom, she closed the door and locked it.

"You're scaring me."

"You can go with Ethan," she said. "But I need one promise first."

I got angry right away. "If this has something to do with Ethan having Down syndrome—"

"It doesn't."

"Then what?"

Mom sat on my bed. "Do you remember when your father left?"

I frowned. "What does that have to do with tonight?"

"You were twelve."

What My Mother Had Hidden

Then she said something that shocked me. "You stopped having lunch."

My arms dropped. "How do you know?"

"Ethan told me."

I stared at her. She explained that during the worst of the divorce, Ethan once found her crying alone in her car in the school parking lot.

She thought no one had seen her. But Ethan had.

"He asked me if you were broken," Mom whispered.

My throat tightened. "Why?"

"Because you weren't eating. You weren't laughing much. He saw you sitting alone."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him you weren't broken."

Mom squeezed my hand. "Then Ethan said something I've remembered for six years."

"What?"

Tears rolled down her face. "He said, 'Good. Because I don't know how to fix people. I only know how to stay.'"

I couldn't speak. Suddenly, all those quiet lunches came back to me. Ethan sitting beside me. No questions. No pressure. Just his presence.

Then Mom revealed the secret she'd kept for six years. "I asked Ethan to promise me he'd look after you."

I stared at her. "You asked him that?"

"I was falling apart. Your father was gone. You hardly talked to me. Ethan was the only one who could still make you smile."

According to Mom, Ethan didn't hesitate. He just said, "Okay."

Then Mom looked ashamed. "But after that, I started making a mistake."

"What mistake?"

"For years, whenever you defended Ethan or changed your plans because someone left him out, I worried you were sacrificing too much for him."

I went quiet.

"I always thought about what Ethan might need from you," she continued. "I never noticed all the things he gives you."

And suddenly, I saw our whole friendship in a new light.

The milkshakes after my art competition. The story on his wall. The lunches after Dad left. The time he listened after my first heartbreak.

Ethan had never been a burden. We supported each other.

"So what's your condition?" I asked.

Mom smiled through her tears. "Don't go to prom because six - year - old Lily made a promise."

She squeezed my hands. "Go because eighteen - year - old Lily chooses him."

I chuckled softly. "Mom, that's already why I'm going."

"I know that now."

The Prom and Realization

When Mom and I went downstairs, Ethan looked at us. "You took a long time."

Mom walked right up to him. "Ethan, can I have the first dance?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Mrs. Lisa, this isn't prom."

I burst out laughing. Mom played music anyway.

For thirty awkward seconds, Ethan tried to lead her while she kept stepping in the wrong place.

Finally, he sighed. "Mrs. Lisa, Lily dances better."

"That's why she's your date."

Then Mom's face softened. "Thank you for staying."

Ethan looked confused, like she'd thanked him for breathing. "She stays too," he said.

Mom closed her eyes. Those three words seemed to answer a question she'd been asking for six years.

Later that night, Ethan and I got to prom. When the first slow song started, he held out his hand.

"Lily."

"Yes?"

"You owe me."

"Twelve years?"

"Twelve years."

Within five seconds, he stepped on my shoe. "You're bad at dancing."

"Your suit is too stiff."

We laughed until people stared. And that was the beauty of the night.

Nothing big happened. No one stopped the music. No one clapped for us. No one treated our dance like an amazing feat.

We were just two eighteen - year - olds at prom, dancing poorly together. Just like we'd promised when we were six.

Afterward, Mom came to pick us up. My feet hurt, so Ethan carried my shoes. He was hot, so I carried his jacket.

When we got to the car, he opened my door for me. Then I leaned across the seat and opened his. Mom watched us silently in the rear - view mirror.

For years, she'd thought one of us must be taking care of the other. That night, she was about to finally understand...

← PREV PAGE
Advertisement
Advertisement

Related Posts

Advertisement
Advertisement
Inside the lakeside mansion I'd secretly bought, my brother raised a glass of fine wine as my diamond - adorned mother stood beside him, beaming, and toasted, 'To our magnificent new abode.' From the patio, my sister - in - law scoffed, 'Luna could never afford a place like this.' They thought I was helpless, while I watched via my tablet from a hotel lounge. Little did they know, my name was on the title, every surveillance camera was rolling, and a crucial call had already been made.
Advertisement
Advertisement