Everyone remembers their first big crush. Mine was Jeremy, a name I had written hundreds of times on my seventh grade binders in big loopy hearts. He’d held the starring role in dozens of notes I passed in class and the daydreams that got me through fourth period science with Mrs. Banks. Jeremy ― the immortal 9th grader, vice president of student council, tennis player and wrestler with the dreamiest green eyes. He appeared each morning on our school’s television announcements with a smile