Across the Pond

Chapter 1

I didn't sleep a wink last night. I tried, don't get me wrong, I tried. I even resorted to counting sheep, but by the 100th sheep, I was over it; I had accepted the fact that I was going to look like a zombie the next morning.

That wasn't the goal though. The goal was to look perfect. Well, maybe not perfect, because I'm well aware of the fact that perfection doesn't exist, but as close to perfect as possible. Because today was the day.

I push the covers off my body, hop over my bed, and pull the baby blue curtains to the sides. Even though there's plenty of time to get ready, I find myself running to the bathroom. I guess you could say that I'm excited. I go through the steps of my morning routine: brush my teeth, wash my face, moisturize my skin, and pull my long brown hair into a pony.

I make it back to my room and glance over the articles of clothing that lay flat on the ottoman. Even though I picked my clothes out last night, I find myself contemplating the white shorts, basic tank, and high-top white Converses that I set aside. Like I said, I have to look as close to perfect as possible, and I'm not sure that showing up to Wilmington in my standard outfit is going to cut it.

"Bella, almost ready?" mom calls from downstairs. I glance at the clock on my wooden nightstand. 8:29 AM. Why am I not surprised? The woman is always on time...if not early. "Better three hours too soon than a minute too late," is her go-to quote. Thank you, Shakespeare, for that.

"Just a minute," I say, loud enough so that she can hear me. I check myself in the glass vanity and try to decide whether or not my olive skin tone needs a touch of makeup. Now normally, I'm not a fan of the whole blush, lipstick, mascara thing, but like I keep saying...close to perfect as possible.

I end up keeping my look as is. I'm not going to change who I am and what I like for someone else. Even if that someone else isn't just someone else. Who am I kidding? Nico Bradford is everything. My first friend, first crush, first...love. Though, he's unaware of the last two. My best friend Remi, who I met at summer camp when I was 6, bugs me that I make my infatuation obvious, but if you ask me, I think I play it cool.

You see, playing it cool has become the norm to me. When you spend 9 years of your life crushing on the same guy, you know what to expect. You're used to the nervousness he makes you feel the second that he enters the room, you're used to the tongue-tied words that come out of your mouth when he says "hi, how are you?", and you're definitely used to the annoying fact that you've probably just met the love of your life even though he doesn't know it or feel it.

Nico and Remi are both from Wilmington, North Carolina, which is where mom and I have spent every summer since my parents got divorced. It's where mom's family resides. At the time, mom needed her mom, so we invited ourselves to crash at Grandma Ruby's ranch for two months. My Grandpa Will died before I was born, so Grandma Ruby loved having the company. 10 years later and we're still carrying on the tradition.

I'm not complaining. I love Wilmington and everything that it represents. I love the quaint vibe, the beaches, the local restaurants. But most importantly, I love seeing Nico.

The first day that I met him happened to be the first time that I fell in love. I know, I know...that's dramatic of me to say considering I was only 7 years-old, but it's the truth, and I remember the day perfectly. I was hosting a lemonade stand outside of Grandma Ruby's house with Remi.

Bella, Age 7 / Nico, Age 8

"Bella, can we please go inside?" Remi whines. "It's so hot out and I'm getting mosquito bites everywhere."

"No, Rem. We haven't sold one cup of lemonade yet."

"But we've been standing in the same place for almost two hours now. How much longer do we have to wait for someone to show?"