BJ stayed in the driver’s seat of his car long after he had parked and cut the engine.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “We can just go to my house. I know how scary this is for you. I want you to know that it’ll be okay if you just want to go home now.”

Dennis, dressed in a shiny rental tuxedo, looked at him fondly from the passenger’s seat.

“I want to,” he replied. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Even if the music sucks, we can watch the teachers pretend not to notice that most of the dancers are tripping out or wasted.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” said BJ. “I just want you to be comfortable. These are the same losers that made life hell for you because of me…”

“Hey! We’ve talked about this,” said Dennis. “You were right and I was wrong. I was gay and I didn’t want to have to deal with the s*** that people would say because of it, so I shoved my issues onto you. I’m gay, you’re gay, and we’re both wearing ugly ass tuxedos. Are we going to go dance or not?”

BJ smiled and opened the door, stepping out into the brisk air.

The car wasn’t actually his. It was his brother’s, who had left it behind when he went to college and would probably murder BJ in cold blood if he found out. BJ was almost seventeen, though, and had been driving since he was fifteen and a half. Plus, the car was cool and he may or may not have been trying to impress Dennis.

“All our most important moments seem to happen in the fall,” remarked Dennis, joining him.

“That’s because fall’s the best time and you’re the best guy,” said BJ, sliding the key into the door and locking it smoothly. He tucked the key into his breast pocket (the only pocket that wasn’t just a sown on decoration) and grabbed Dennis’ hand for a quick squeeze of reassurance.

Dennis blushed a faint shade of pink.

“We can still go back if you want to,” BJ whispered.

Dennis shook his head.

“Okay then,” said BJ. “Let’s go watch people tweak out on the dance floor.”

Dennis smiled faintly and they started towards the high school.

The entrance was decorated with streamers and blue and pink balloons. There were tables set up with tickets, sold by the teachers.

The foyer was not crowded, mostly empty because they were running about a half an hour late. BJ had done this on purpose, hoping that without the sneering crowd at the entrance, Dennis would feel less awkward.

Dennis paled slightly as he saw that the teacher selling the tickets was his drama teacher. BJ noticed and made to drop Dennis’ hand, but Dennis shook his head and squeezed.

The drama teacher, Mr. Montgomery, looked up at them. He recognized BJ and frowned slightly. He was one of the teachers who had made BJ’s life hard when he had gotten to high school. Montgomery had been teaching for thirty years and was not exactly ‘open-minded’.

Then Mr. Montgomery noticed who was at the other end of BJ’s arm and his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Dennis?” he asked incredulously. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“We’re here to buy tickets for the prom, Mr. Montgomery,” said Dennis.

“With him? But you’re not…” Montgomery sat back, his eyes hardening. “I’m afraid that we’re sold out.”

“What?” cried BJ. “There’s a stack of tickets right there!”

“We’re sold out,” Montgomery said again, slowly, as if he was talking to a little child.

Dennis looked as if he didn’t know what to do. BJ leaned forward, “That’s a dirty lie, Mr. Montgomery. I don’t care what you say, I am taking Dennis to the Prom today.”

“Is that a threat? I’m calling security. Threatening a teacher is grounds for expulsion.”

“Wait! Stop, Mr. Montgomery. Don’t call security. We’re leaving. It’s okay BJ, let’s go,” said Dennis.

Montgomery shook his head sadly as they turned. “You were one of my favorite students, Dennis. So much promise.”

“I could say the same about you, Mr. Montgomery,” said Dennis. “You were my favorite teacher. I overestimated you.”

Dennis turned around and walked out the front doors, pulling BJ behind him. Dennis could tell that BJ was fuming, but Dennis was too busy trying not to burst into angry, disappointed tears. All Dennis had wanted was to go to prom with his boyfriend, but once again the small-minded town that he lived in had hurt him.

They were down and the steps and into the cold parking lot when Dennis slowed down enough for BJ to catch up and walk by his side.

“We didn’t want to go there anyway. Prom’s are always lame,” Dennis forced. He tried to smile at BJ, but the smile froze and faded away when he met BJ’s sympathetic brown eyes.

“Dennis, I’m sorry. That asshole shouldn’t be a teacher,” said BJ.

They both knew that if they attempted to tell the Principal about Mr. Montgomery’s actions, the complaint would be lost in other paperwork and their lives would be made even harder by the rest of the faculty.

Dennis stopped so abruptly that BJ kept walking for a half a step before turning to face him. They were in between a red Volvo and a white trucks, both of their breath appearing in the cold air. Dennis was leaning against the white truck, angrily blinking against tears.

“BJ,” Dennis said, “I am so sick of this. I just wanted to dance with you…” his voice broke.

“Hey,” whispered BJ softly. He leaned forward, his breath tickling Dennis’ face in a way that was comfortable and familiar. He reached out long, dark, graceful fingers and gently twirled the strands of Dennis’ hair in his fingers. It had been a ritual between them for so long that by now it was as natural as breathing, as comfortable as coming home after a long trip. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll go back to my house and we’ll watch CSI on Netflix and I’ll make super butter popcorn and we can eat cookies all night. It’ll be awesome. What would we have done in a dance anyway? Talk about how lame the decorations are?”

Dennis smiled slightly, but a tear rolled down his cheek.

“I know,” he said. “I…I just wish that we could have danced.”

The sound of slow music was pouring out of their jail shaped school, filling the night with the sound of a husky voice and a sweet piano.

BJ stood looking at Dennis, memorizing the contours of a face that he loved.

“Come on,” said BJ, extending his hand.

“Where?” asked Dennis.

“Just come on.”

Dennis took BJ’s hand and pulled him out from between the two cars and into a large, empty parking space.

“Can I have this dance?” asked BJ.

“Now? Here?” said Dennis.

“Where else? There’s a full moon, the stars are out, and we can hear the music, why not? This has got to be better than any decorations that would have been in there.”

Dennis grinned. A new song was starting, another slow song, and BJ extended his arm. Dennis took it and they began to sway in the middle of the parking lot, under the open sky, free from the eyes of those who would hurt them.

Dennis lay his cheek against BJ’s and their hands were clasped together in a way that reminded BJ of the conversation they had nearly ten years ago. How, as little six year olds, they had held hands just like this.

“I love you,” BJ whispered into Dennis’ ear. The words filled Dennis up with joy and he smiled against BJ’s cheek

“I love you, too,” said Dennis.

And they danced as though nothing else mattered.