Emeline smiles when she sees you staring at her. She waves, eyes lighting up.

She’s a princess, it’s her first day of public school after begging her father. He finally allowed her.

The school is in America, she’s English, though. A sophomore, just like you.

You’re not popular at school by any means. You sing for the choir and do the musical every year. She finds you endearing.. In a friendly way. She tries to convince herself, at least.