The Orange Sunset Decision

Marcus stood by the **orange** sunset bleeding across the school parking lot, phone buzzing in his pocket. "You coming?" Jenna's text read. Third time she'd asked.

His **cat** Mango back home would be judging him hard right now. That cat had more game than Marcus did, honestly.

The homecoming dance. The social **pyramid** of Jefferson High, where Marcus floated somewhere near the bottom—maybe basement level. Jenna was definitely top-tier, the kind of girl who made nervous freshmen drop their trays in the cafeteria.

But she'd asked him. HIM.

"Bro, you good?" Sam appeared beside him, spinning a basketball on his finger. "You look like you're about to puke."

Marcus shoved his hands deeper into his sweatshirt pockets. "Just thinking."

"About Jenna?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "She's out of your league, man. No offense."

"None taken," Marcus muttered, though it stung. Sam meant well, but damn.

His phone lit up again. "Forget it then. Going with Tyler."

Something snapped inside Marcus. Suddenly he was **running**—actually sprinting—across the parking lot, past the confused seniors leaning against their cars, through the gym doors.

He found her near the punch bowl, smoothing her dress. Jenna looked up, eyes wide.

"Marcus?"

"Yeah," he wheezed, hands on knees. "Yeah. I'm here. And I'm better than Tyler."

She laughed, and it wasn't mean. It was... genuine. "Tyler's still in the bathroom fixing his hair for the third time." She extended her hand. **Palm** up. Waiting. "Dance with me instead?"

Marcus grinned despite himself. The social pyramid could wait. Some moments were worth climbing for.