Six months after the accident, prom felt less like a celebration and more like a reminder of everything I thought I had lost. I was seventeen, still adjusting to life in a wheelchair, and trying to smile while everyone around me moved easily across the gym floor.
People were kind in the way people can be when they do not know what else to do. Friends came over, complimented my dress, squeezed my shoulder, and told me I looked beautiful. Then the music changed, and one by one, they drifted back toward the dance floor.
I stayed near the wall, pretending I was fine.
Then Marcus walked over.