Angel Star - Jennifer Murgia High School somewhere. I’ve-Got-One-Friend-Besides-My-Mom–Some-People-Say-I’m-Pretty-But-My-Mirror-Says-I’m-Not-Freak-Girl is hit on / stalked by Mysterious-New-Guy-Who-Makes-Everybody-Swoon-But-Has-Only-Eyes-For-Her.

On the second day of his school career he says “I make up to you for missed lunch [He had to see the counselor / coordinator] this afternoon,” and sweeps her off to a near-by playground after stopping at a Starbucks on the way to parade her proudly in front of her enemies ("Lookee HERE!! I elevate your former freak to school goddess by the power of my good looks!"). She thinks for a quarter second of her mom, who is a bit peculiar about getting into cars with strangers. “But that doesn’t count if the stranger makes you feel so saaaafe like being in a bubbbble, smells like your favorite brand of incense ... and has a rosary, which is a family heirloom, swinging on on his rearview mirror”, she explains to herself and smiles contentedly. The rosary means he surely is of “good stock” (=quote).
After the gulping down of their lattes and the fingering the rosary, the date, which doesn’t count as a date, proceeds on the playground’s set of swings, where he speedily gets down to business:

He (let’s call him Gary, which means lightning) twinkles at her with his Chlorox-blue eyes, which complement her mouldy-toilet-water-green ones: “As we are swinging now (coincidentally).... do you ever think you could FLY???”
She (let’s call her Coffeegan, which is Irish) giggles with modest embarrassment: “Umh. Yeah. I thought so, when I was young.”
Gary, who kicks the ground deftly with his Timberlakes to lift him higher, while never letting go of her hand, which he even held when he was paying and drinking her latte, grins: “Coffeeee, come on, come on, come ooon, admit you still think so today.”
Coffeegan smiles (she feels safe anyway, so there is no danger in admitting things): “Well, um, yes. You got me there. I still believe I can fly. I am totally into wings. I doodle them on my margins, too...”
Gorgeous Gary whispers (totally forgiving her that she missed the point), his latte-breath tinkling her her while they swing in synchrony towards the setting sun: “Baby, come on, come on, come oooooon. You think it ALL THE TIME. So now. First hint covered. Next. (You have to be home soon.) Since we know each other more than a day now and I have already saved you from a mysterious black cloud on the school’s parking lot, which is pretty paranormal, I ask you: DO YOU BELIEVE IN GOD? DO YOU BELIEVE IN ANGELS?”
Coffeegan rips her thoughts away from the nightmarish idea that he would have to let go of her hand when he dropped her at her house later, which would surely feel like losing your bladder or your heart, and breathes “I DO.”
Gary is proud of himself to have come so far. “Sooo. You sometimes think I am too good to be real, am I right? Can you guess what I am? It’s difficult, I know (Cinderella complex, anyone?). If you didn’t get, I’ll quizz you again tomorrow before midnight. I might even give you a few more hints,” he says with his lips mopping through the air around her neck, while swinging wildly to and fro.
“Alright,” she says, a bit unsure, but feeling quite safe, soooo safe (personal space is really overrated these days), “But you will visit me tonight in my dream, won’t you? You can do that, can’t you?” She is a little afraid the answer might be negative. That sexy black-winged thing of her recent dreams gets a bit too boring from time to time. Chlorox-boy seems to be quite the opposite and should provide a good past-time. “Okeydokey,” he promises. I can do EVERYTHING, when I am not real, which I might be. So, I bring you home now. Lesson One: Check! Haha. Don’t forget to call your friend Klaire (see how observant I are? I remembered her name) to tell her how magnificient I am. I don’t need friends beside you, don't you worry. But I sure want to earn a reputation – in case my stunt at the Starbucks went by unnoticed.” Coffeegan feels like being in HEAVEN. "Klaire was right: I REALLY needed a boyfriend", she muses happily.

(Here we are at around page 50 or 55. The book continues to tell the wonderful story, but alas, I have other books to read, unfortunatey.)