My classmates made fun of my birthmark for years

that she had led the cheerleading team to a state championship.

I pushed a noodle around my plate. “Mom, I don’t want to go to prom. I really don’t.”

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Hannah, listen to me. You only get one senior prom. Just one. Give yourself one good memory before you graduate. Please.”

“A good memory,” I repeated quietly.continue reading …