Chapter Text
She was... beautiful.
He won't say it, but sometimes Corey misses her. He misses her soft dark hair, pulled so gently away from her face. He misses the way her legs looked in those tights, so strong yet so lean. He misses her smile most of all, no matter what shade of lipstick she put on. Her smile... it reached corners of her face he couldn't even imagine, and felt so real and so vibrant.
It's not that he doesn't like Shawn, because of course he does, that's his best friend! No one could ever replace him, but in the back of his mind, Corey fears that someone has. Shawn's smile is never as big as hers was, and the way he held himself didn't exuberate that same confidence. It seems that ever since she left, Shawn has been sad.
Mrs. Veronica Matthews.
As Corey draws a red heart around the name in his notebook, he relishes in how right it sounds. How real it sounds. How beautiful is would look attached to an absolute doll in a wedding dress. Shawn isn't big with flouncy designs and lots of little details, so Corey imagines a simple dress, just white and satin and not quite down to her feet, showing just a little ankle to be cheeky. In her hair would be a tiara, a real diamond tiara, the one Corey's mother had worn at her own wedding, so long as Eric didn't grab it first. The tiara would have a train, just down to her midback of so, flowing elegantly with her hair.
Corey would be stood at the alter, watching her float towards him down the aisle. Morgan would be the flower girl, unless they get married when she's older, and then she'll get promoted to bridesmaid. Topanga would be a bridesmaid too, perhaps in a little yellow number. Corey would have her has his best man if she'd let him, but maybe she'd prefer to spend the festivities getting dressed up with Ronnie.
'Mr. Matthews!'
Corey's head shoots up, almost clashing with Mr. Feeny's own. The man looks extra ruffled today, so maybe its best if Corey doesn't push his luck.
'Please, Mr. Matthews, share with us if you can fix this problem.'
Corey's eyes drift to the board, where a variety of quotes and what he can only assume are other students answers scattered around in chalk. In the centre; What is love?
XX~•~•XX
'Dude, you really blanked in there,' Shawn laughs, slapping Corey's shoulder.
'I just got a little distracted,' he responds.
'With what? I've never seen your head so far into your notebook, there's no way you didn't have the answer,' Topanga chimes in. She moves between the boys to open her locker, shifting all her books around neatly and with great precision. Lord knows what their twos lockers look like, and she has not intention of ever finding out.
'Oh, er, nothing. Just some doodles,' Corey blanches, rubbing the back of his head.
Topanga and Shawn look at him weirdly. God, if he doesn't get out of here soon, his whole body will glow red.
'Doodles?' Shawn scrunches his nose. 'Why were you doodling?'
'Well, what else was I supposed to do to stay awake in that class?'
There we go, finally pulled the attention away. Corey is never letting either of them see his notebook. He doesn't want them to know just how much he misses her. And having Shawn look at him, not matter with what expression behind his eyes or for what reasoning, Corey is reminded that he's never getting her back again.