Roses

One

Infatuation, that was what his mother called it, that what his brother called it, his sister too. Ain their eyes, he was just a hormonal teenage boy, looking at the sweet girl across the street, waiting to pounce on her.

He called it love, because it was true, he loved her. He loved her with every fibre of his being. He loved her messy hair, and the freckles that laid on the bridge of her nose. He loved her eyes, God, did he love her eyes. And he loved her gap-toothed smile the most.

He had loved her since the beginning of time. Before they were born. Before the human race. before the universe. He had loved her before he met her.

Of course he knew her, he remembered the day her family moved into the old rickety house that sat across from his home. The remember the little girl stumbling out of the car, laughing and clapping her hands, as if she saw that wooden shack as the most beautiful house created. He was eight at the time, she was seven.

He watched her play in the front yard almost every day after school, the month after she arrived. He watched her parents also, as they stood on ladders, lathering on a heavy coating of paint, it was some strange colour, the columns some shade of green, the panelling on the walls were coloured a deep purple. They intrigued him almost as much as the little girl had.

It wasn't till a month after his ninth birthday, that he met her. Before that, he had to watching her, his mother itching at him to go ask her to play. But the usually loud boy found himself speechless, so he stuck to playing with his brother on the front lawn, occasionally looking over at her, as she stumbled around on her lawn, helping her father dig holes that would be filled with fruit tree saplings.

And by the time the little boy stood up, taking the courage to make him self a- strange- new friend, it was too late. The girl had already ran across the street in a quick manner, halting right in front of him. She looked at him for a minute, her toothless smile spread ear to ear, her hair was flying around in the fall wind. After a moment she spoke up, sticking her hand out for him to shake it.

"I'm Rose." She giggled, as he placed his hand in hers to shake it.

"My name is Grayson." He responded in a shy manner, quickly pulling his hand away.  He knew she didn't have cooties, only six year olds believed that stuff, and he was a big kid.

"Hi." She looked down at Grayson's brother, who was playing with trucks that laid on the leaf covered grass.

"My name is Ethan." He smiled, jumping up to stand by his brothers side. She smile at him before looking behind them. "I like your flowers." She exclaimed running past them to inspect the bushes of pink flowers that were planted in front of the porch.

"They're roses," his mother smile up from her book, looking at Rose. She sat on the porch every time her sons had been playing, and she knew how much Grayson had wanted to play with the little girl.

"Like me!" Rose gasped, making their mother chuckle, "yes just like you."

*

Ethan, Grayson and Rose, from that day forward were close friends. Rose was an odd one, she wore floral blouses and floor length skirts, singing nostalgic songs from her parents youth every moment she could. She played the guitar, she was quite good too, and she carried it on her back in a  leather case almost every where she went.

'You never know when you'll need to play it.' She'd always say, she kept it on her back in case someone needed a cheer up song, or if she had to busk so she'd have the right amount of change to buy a cherry soda from the local store.

She never once had to play it in public.

That didn't mean that the twin brothers would be disappointed from not hearing her play, they were more then grateful that she never had to, in fact.

Rose was special, she was something that was so incredibly amazing that no one else could compare to her, not on her hobbies, her personalities, her looks. It was all original. But it was also strange.

And when being one hundred percent honest, both of the twins, in their pre-pubescent years of thirteen, loved when their dearest friend behaved normally. When she wouldn't run over and obsess over ever flower she saw, or when she wouldn't cry when spotting an elderly couple. They had constant smiles on their faces if they had convinced her that she would not need to take her guitar with her if they decided to go to lake on a winters day.

Ethan, had always seen Rose in a strange way, it was pure platonic yet, he had a love so strong for her, family, that's what it was. He had always seen her as his younger sister, maybe it was because she was always at their house, or the twins were at hers.

Grayson, he never knew how he felt, a strange mixture of emotions that sat in the pit in his stomach. A crush? No, he would never dare admit it, how could he like a goofball like her? But no matter what he would say, it was there, in the back of his mind, an answer to how he felt, he just continued to push it away if it ever dared to pop up in his thoughts.
*

Hey!
So this is the first chapter to Roses, second chapter will be posted soon, so keep your eyes peeled for that, I think I'll dedicate a lot of my time into this, so expect a few updates a week.