The night before my first chemotherapy treatment, I almost skipped prom because I couldn\u2019t face the pity in everyone\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n
Just two weeks earlier, my biggest problem had been finding silver heels to match the emerald-green dress hanging in my closet. I had a Pinterest board full of prom ideas, makeup tutorials saved, and dreams of a perfect senior night.<\/p>\n
Then everything changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cStage 3.\u201d<\/p>\n
The doctor\u2019s words echoed endlessly in my mind.<\/p>\n
Aggressive. Immediate treatment. Chemotherapy starts Friday morning.<\/p>\n
I was only 17. I was supposed to be worrying about graduation, college applications, and whether my crush would ask me to dance. Instead, I was learning about treatment plans, side effects, and survival rates.<\/p>\n
The hardest part was watching my hair fall out. Every brushstroke left strands behind. Every shower felt like a nightmare. I cried constantly.<\/p>\n
My mom tried to stay positive. My dad tried to be strong. Neither could hide their fear.<\/p>\n
By Wednesday night, I made my decision.<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t going to prom.<\/p>\n
No stares. No whispers. No sympathy.<\/p>\n
But Leo, the boy I\u2019d secretly loved for years, refused to let me disappear.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou deserve this night, Elena,\u201d he said. \u201cTrust me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I had no idea that by the end of prom, Leo would step onto the stage, shave his head in front of the entire school, and reveal a secret that would change my future forever.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"