My stepmom refused to pay for my prom dress, so my brother made one from our late mom’s old jeans but when I walked into prom, her plan to embarrass me took a turn she never saw coming.

Later that night, I heard Noah standing outside my door. He finally walked in carrying a stack of old denim jeans.

Mom’s jeans.

He placed them carefully on my bed.

“Do you trust me?” he asked quietly.

I stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I took sewing last year, remember?”

“You can sew?”

“I can try,” he said quickly. “I mean… if it’s stupid, forget it.”

I grabbed his wrist before he could pull away.

“No. I love the idea.”