With Love...

prologue

BELLE

I think I was 6 and a half years old when I realized I was in love for the very first time.

I remember it being hot and humid. The kind of air lingered that made you feel sticky and itchy like bug bites were covering your body. July in Freighton was always hot and humid, so it must have been then. I remember scratching at my neck. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was a bug bite; I can't remember. It was a few days after the fourth of July because there were firecrackers scattered around town from them going off. I hated fireworks and firecrackers. I still do.

I was in my front yard, my mom and dad lived on a ranch there with horses and cows and all the animals I could think of. It was long and covered more land than our actual house did. The grass was always bright green and cut short and surrounded by a freshly painted white picket fence. I was playing with my dog, Kody. He was a big golden retriever with shaggy fur. He always looked as if he was smiling when he was running around with me or chasing the ducks.

I threw the ball too far and it went to the house next door. It wasn't a ranch, but a small farmhouse. A wrap-around porch encased the home and I always loved how the wooden swing that sat there looked during the summer months. I always asked dad if we could have one. His typical response was, "I'll get around to it Bean."

He never did, if you were wondering.

Kody would never go get the ball if it was in someone else's yard, I don't know why. He just never did. I patted his golden head and told him I would be right back. I ran across the yard and climbed through the opening of our fence. I picked up the ball and that's when I saw him.

Most boys his age had buzz cuts or really short hair, but his was much longer and shaggy. Not like messy or unkept, but perfectly messy in a way that made you want to touch it or mess it up any chance you got. He was dangling an action figure from his hand and staring at me from across the yard. He had a superhero shirt on and black shorts. His shoes were a bright neon color that I'd never seen before.

I looked into his eyes. They were bright green. Not the typical murky green eyes that you're thinking of. But bright and vibrant. Like how the trees looked in the sunshine or how granny smith apples looked in the fruit bowls at home. He looked confused. I hadn't seen him before, I don't think, but he was beautiful. His eyelashes were long and his lips were full.

"Hi?" he asked me, which felt kind of silly since "hi" typically isn't a question.

I stood up straight and pushed my black hair out of my eyes. "Hi."

"What are you doing?" he asked me looking at me in full this time.

"Playing with my dog. I lost the ball," I explained holding up the ball in my hand.

He didn't acknowledge what I said but I knew he listened. "Where do you live?"

"Next door at the ranch," I replied robotically. His questions were boring.

"What's your name?"

"You ask a lot of questions," I told him with a sigh, crossing my arms with sass.

"I have a lot of things to ask," he shrugged.

"Annabella," I told him.

"That's pretty," he said without hesitation.

A boy never called me pretty before. Well, I suppose he didn't call me pretty, but he called my name pretty and that's a part of me so I thought it counted. My heart fluttered like it did. I didn't let him notice though. Or maybe he did notice anyway

"What's yours?"

"Theodore," he mumbled.

"Why do you sound so unhappy about it?" I ask.

"Because it's an old person's name," he whined and stomped his feet. I laughed at him because of how silly he looked when he did it. "Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm sorry, I just like your name," I tell him and he looked at me again.

We stared at each other for a while. We didn't say anything. We just stood there.

"Theodore! It's dinner honey!" A woman yelled from the cute porch that I loved so much. she had long brown ringlet curls and her skin looked darkened from the sun.

He looked back at me and sort of smiled. "Will I see you soon Annabella?"

I nodded. "Yes, Theodore."

And after that, he ran off.

I don't know what I was feeling when I met him, but I know it was a lot of big feelings. That's why I know it was love. Or at least what I knew love to be when I was that age.