Beau, a blossoming romantic (and part-time third-grade heartthrob), tried several times to seduce his beloved princess, Maria. His strategy? Running away from her during student council adventures. Classic romance. Unfortunately, Maria had the romantic instincts of, well… a third grader, and did not interpret “fleeing in terror” as a confession of love. Then came The Dark Ages—actual years of tragic sighing, brooding gazes at the horizon, and Beau listening to probably way too much sad music for a child. He was princess-less, hopeless, and dramatically twelve. But lo! In 8th grade, a miracle occurred. Maria’s eyes opened to the dazzling charm of Beau’s good looks, impressive athleticism, and a brain so powerful it probably glowed. Word spread through the halls: Maria had a crush on Beau. The people rejoiced. The angels sang. The janitor shrugged. “But does Beau like her back?” they asked. Yes. Please. Obviously. After gathering an obnoxious amount of courage—like, enough to lift a small car—Beau ventured through the school hallway to find his bride-to-be. He approached, rose in hand, ready to cement his destiny. Maria’s eyes went wide. Her jaw plummeted to the floor. Her cheeks grew redder than the rose itself. “I… I don’t know,” she squeaked, and then *poof*, vanished into the crowd like a shy, confused magician. The school erupted. The prince had been rejected. No one saw it coming, least of all Beau, who was already mentally picking out wedding fonts. But all hope was not lost! Maria returned later that day, breathless, apologetic, and ready to announce the greatest news: she was only temporarily flustered. She was now prepared to have… a “thing.” Thus began a new golden era. Communication was limited—okay, nearly nonexistent—but they were eighth graders, so honestly they were doing great. The affection grew, the whispers spread, and soon it was time for the grand gala: the 8th grade promotion dance. They danced for at least 30 entire seconds, both shaking like newborn deer, but cherishing every trembling moment. And then… she dumped Beau. (It’s fine. He’s fine. Totally fine. Very chill about it.) Maria cried, Beau was “bummed out,” and thus began The Second Dark Age—less tragic, more educational. But time passed. Friendship bloomed. They weren’t in love… yet. High school happened, and they learned things—actual things—about themselves. Eventually the two realized something important: maybe the flame had never fully gone out. Maybe it was just a tiny ember waiting for the right gust of teenage emotional turbulence. And then— BOOM. Junior year homecoming dance. Love explosion. Confetti everywhere. Fireworks. Emotional earthquakes. A Disney montage. And from that moment on, Beau and Maria lived ridiculously, gloriously, absurdly happily ever after. The end. (Or realistically: the beginning.)