I saw Collin around school all the time after that, but we kind of tried to stay out of each other's way. I'm not sure if he was more intimidated by me at that time, or if I was more intimidated by him.

We had a little creek in the back of our neighborhood that all of the kids used to go to in the summertime. I never paid him any mind out there, though, until one day in the fourth grade my best friend nudged me and whispered, "He's showing off for you."

"What?" I giggled and looked over at him. He quickly looked the other way. "No he's not."

"Yes he is. He likes you. I can tell."

"No he doesn't!" By the fourth grade, I was a little into boys, but not as much as my best friend Jean Toussant, who was a grade above me and had been boy crazy since the school year before.

According to Jean, she had already kissed two boys and let one of them touch her "down there." I didn't know about all that, but the kissing part sounded interesting enough. And Collin really was pretty cute. By then, I'd had a humongous crush on him since the third grade, but never told anyone about it. It probably started after he brought some dandelions over to my house one evening and apologized for head-butting me back in the first grade. Then, of course, just like a boy, he blew them in my face and ran away.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe Collin did like me, too...maybe. I looked over at his chocolate skin and light brown eyes glinting in the sunlight, and that reckless smile of his, and started grinning. When he caught me staring and started grinning back, I lowered my gaze.

"Hey everybody! Watch this!" he shouted, still looking directly at me. Then he whipped off his shirt, jumped up on the rope we'd tied around the biggest tree branch earlier that summer and swung out over the water. Unfortunately, he let go a little too early and crashed right back down onto his left arm.

When the cries started, all of the other kids took off running. We weren't even supposed to be swinging from that thing anyway. Even Jean Toussant ran off after a few minutes to go get help.

Collin's arm was twisted behind him all crazy and I wanted to run away, too, but I didn't. I couldn't. He was screaming so loud and crying so hard, I would have had to be heartless to leave him lying there by himself all folded up like that.

Slowly, I tiptoed over to him and knelt down beside him. To my surprise, he reached out with his right hand and held onto me for dear life. I know it sounds crazy, but when he did that, some sort of charge went through me. Like an electrical current or something. If I had been a little older and known him a little bit better, I could have pegged this as the moment that I fell in love with Collin Bryce Stewart.

But, alas, we weren't older and I wasn't smitten by him just then. It was quite the opposite. The big ol' baby was crying so loud that it hurt my ears and he was holding my fingers so tight, I just knew he was about to break them off. All I wanted right then was for his mama...my mama...shoot, anybody's mama, to come and shut his little crybaby ass up.

Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore and started questioning all the things I might do to him, myself, just to get out of his vice grip – like twisting his broke arm so he would let me go and then running away – he looked up at me with his pitiful tearstained face and those big caramel candy eyes and whispered my name.

"Natasha?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," sniff, "thanks for staying with me."

I smiled. "That's ok," then I looked around. "Jean Toussant should be on her way back with somebody soon. Don't worry. It'll be ok."

"Thanks." With this new, never before seen humble Collin, he was like a whole different kid to me. I liked this Collin way better. Not so cocky. Not such a jerk. This Collin I could be friends with. "Hey," he said in a raspy voice and closed his eyes. "Don't tell anybody I was crying, alright?"

"I won't."

"And don't leave me until my mom comes, ok?"

"Ok."

"Promise you won't leave me?"

"I promise..."

And there it was.