“Listen up, everyone. We have a new student joining us today. Let’s make her feel welcome here at Cary-Grove High,” Mr. Adilman announces.

I glance up from my serious lack of note taking and my mouth goes dry.

In walks an angel.

Seriously. I think she’s a real-life angel with wings and a halo and maybe even a harp.

There’s definitely a harp.

Her hair is spun with gold, partially pulled up with a flower barrette. Her denim skirt almost touches her knees, and a lavender blazer sits over her baby blue tank top. She’s wearing chunky sandals and the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen.

I’m blatantly staring, possibly drooling, as Mr. Adilman directs the petite blonde to a desk much too far away from mine. She clutches her books to her chest with nervous hands, quietly taking a seat.

“Class, say hello to Corabelle Lawson. Her family just moved here from Rockford.”

She clears her throat. “Um, it’s Cora.”

“Oh.” Mr. Adilman looks down at his notes. “I’m sorry. This says Corabelle.”

“Yeah, but I go by Cora.”

The class mutters a bored ‘hello’ as I continue to plan out our future in my mind. Homecoming and Prom are a given. It would be great if we end up going to the same college together, but long distance relationships aren’t so bad. We’ll make it work. We’ll be married by thirty, buy a big house in the suburbs, and have three blonde-haired babies by thirty-five. We’ll travel a lot, then move right by the ocean when we retire.

I wonder if she likes the ocean.

Cora glances over in my direction and our eyes meet for the very first time.

Green.

Angels have green eyes.

She smiles at me, that same sweet smile, and this one is all mine. It fills me up and lights me on fire, and I know, I just know…

I’m going to marry this girl one day.

I’m sitting on Mandy’s couch after work that Friday, guzzling down a water bottle as I try to collect my thoughts. I squeeze the bottle in my fist, listening to the crinkling plastic mingle with the sound of Mandy’s chipper voice floating through the apartment.

“…and I can’t believe Margo is retiring…”

I open and close my hand around the empty bottle.

Crinkle. Crinkle. Crinkle.

“…she’s basically our mama bear…”

Crinkle. Crinkle. Crinkle.

“…definitely going to… Dean? Are you listening?”

I snap my head up as Mandy saunters into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Everything okay?” She cocks her head to one side, her hazel eyes shimmering with concern. “You look a little pale.”

That’s probably because I’ve been holding back my vomit for the last fifteen minutes.

My throat bobs as I swallow. “We need to talk, Mandy.” I set the bottle down next to me and wipe my hands along the front of my denim pants.

Mandy stares at me for a moment, registering my words. She nibbles on her top lip as she wrings the towel between her fingers. “About what?”