The Thin Line || BrightWin

Hate at first sight?

WIN P.O.V.

It all started with a laugh, really.

Stumbling over two moving boxes, my seven year old clumsy self, fell onto the cement.

That little boy, bouncing that annoying ball right in front of our new house, just had to laugh. His Dark Brown hair was flopping all over the place, and I clearly remember his high pitched squeaky laugh as if it was yesterday.

On the contrary, it was quite the evidence that he had clearly not gone through puberty. I mean I remember both of us were only seven. Of course he hadn't gone through puberty. I'm sure a little boy with brown hair stumbling was a big joke to him.

Evidently it wasn't a joke to me. I hated being laughed at, it almost matched up 'being talked about amongst other parents right in front of my face' on my disdain list.

However, Instead of crying like I usually would, that boy made me want to go up and cream his face, old school. I ignored the thought though, as my mom always says violence is never the answer.

But, when that stupid boy started pointing at me and laughing even harder, I became infuriated. Something about that big annoying gap tooth smile, his brown hair flopping all over the place, and his high pitched laugh, made me what to pound him. Now keep in mind, I had no idea what 'old school' and 'pound' meant at that time, (I was seven, cut me some slack!) but it sounded menacing when my dad screamed it at the football games on T.V, so I thought why not.

I stomped out into the street in my shiny red boots, all the way to the brunette boy's yard.

"What do you think you're doing mister"?! I shrieked.

I was beyond mad. Livid even.

"Well I was playing Ball, and you fell, and it was funny" he grinned a big gap tooth smile, and continued bouncing the ball like all was right in the world.

"Haven't you ever heard of mind your own business"? I told him furiously, "You shouldn't have been paying attention, or laughing"!

Mind your own business was what an old mean cute boy named New, told me whenever I asked him why he wouldn't let me play with his limited edition toys. I guess it meant to not pay attention to him, which I desperately wanted the brunette to do now.

"You were screaming really loudly" he giggled, breaking me out of my trance of thoughts. Just as I was about to retort a clever seven year old comeback of my own, my papa decided that now was the perfect time to pop out his cheerful head from the kitchen window, and check in with me.

"Bunnie, what are you doing on the neighbor's yard? And who's your cute new friend"? My papa cooed.

He called everything and everyone cute. Apparently it was one of his many phases my dad had told me while chuckling. And let me tell you now, from experience, he has most definitely not grown out from that 'phase'.

While I was about to explain that this brunette boy was most definitely not my friend, an equally as cheerful head popped up from the opposite house door.

"My little wolf!" he cooed as he ran and grabbed the brunette boy and gave him a big kiss on his head.

"Papa, I'm not a little wolf!" The brunette boy whined while I giggled, earning me a glare from the brunette, and a warm smile from his papa.