At West Orange High outside Orlando, two high-school seniors with Down syndrome have been elected homecoming king and queen by their classmates.
It's the first time anyone in the Orange County School District, the 10th largest in the nation, can recall special-needs students in the running for king and queen.
"We love you, Bubba!" a group of girls screamed as Travjuan "Bubba" Hunter waved from his perch in the Homecoming Parade.
To his date, Semone Adkins, they yelled, "Semone, you look beautiful!"
The cheers came not just from friends and family on the sidelines, but from the Gridiron Girls who support the football team, from the girls Lacrosse team, from the service club, the local merchants and even a few of the police officers.
"He has always been loud and proud — how can you not love that?" said Cindi Brasch, an adaptive P.E. teacher at West Orange. "But he's a very polite, very well-mannered young man who just likes everybody."
The feeling seems to be mutual.
"Oh, everybody in town knows Bubba," said Michelle Cavanzon, a teacher's aide who works with Hunter and Adkins. "I swear he could run for mayor — and probably win."
Short and stocky, he makes up in personality what he lacks in physicality.
"This didn't happen because we feel sorry for them or something," said Hayden Griffitts, 18, the football team's quarterback — and in the running himself for homecoming king. "Just the opposite. They really deserve it. I mean, homecoming is about bringing people together and having fun. And that's what they do."
Griffitts' biggest dilemma this week: whether to vote for himself or Hunter.
At the beginning of the week, Semone Adkins was a relative unknown to a lot of kids. Maybe they'd seen her around, maybe caught a glimpse of the coy smile, but her election has brought fame — or what passes for it in high school.
Then came Monday night's talent show, a competition for all six couples elected to homecoming court. Adkins was dancing to Beyonce's "Single Ladies," enticing her beau to "put a ring on it." In practice, she'd been reluctant.
Until they gave her a microphone.
Maybe it was the music videos she had seen. Maybe it was natural talent. Maybe it was the pressure of the spotlight and a live audience. But the sometimes-shy, sweet young thing transformed into a strutting diva who extended her hand with all the attitude the song demanded.
Hunter strolled out in shirt and tie, dropped to one knee, and when he placed the ring on her finger, the crowd in the school's auditorium rose to their feet in wild applause.
"I cried the whole time," said Janice Morgan, Hunter's mom. "I was so proud of him."
Her son, like Semone Adkins, nearly didn't make it into this world.