Sitting inside my uncle’s squeaking 1998 Buick in the school parking lot, Georgia showed me a text message from her father instructing her not to make the night too easy for me.

Georgia confessed that Sheldon had asked her to act demanding and rude during prom to test my patience, but she refused to play along with his absurd scheme.

Relieved that the tension was broken, we entered the decorated gymnasium together, where Georgia playfully teased me by making hilarious, impossible requests like asking the DJ for non-existent songs.

I played along, using my phone compass to find a chair facing precisely northwest and fetching cups of punch with carefully folded napkins, keeping everyone at our table laughing.

Georgia’s aunt Evelyn, a chemistry teacher and chaperone, stopped by our table and cheerfully mentioned that Sheldon frequently praised my ability to perform exceptionally well under pressure.

As the evening went on, Georgia and I began having a wonderful time, eating chocolate cupcakes, taking goofy pictures under a balloon arch, and dancing freely on the gym floor.

I even invented a ridiculous dance move that involved swinging my arms wildly, which Georgia’s friends filmed while laughing so hard they nearly dropped their drinks.

Texting Sheldon mid-dance that Georgia had requested the moon, my boss humorously replied that I should simply use my best professional judgment.

By the time the final slow song played at eleven-thirty, Georgia and I were genuine friends, completely comfortable in each other’s company.

However, as we walked back out to the parking lot, Georgia paused by the car to share the actual, life-changing reason why her father had set up the entire evening.