The first memory I have is of dirt. Not just any dirt mind you, but the kind that cakes under fingernails and stubbornly clings to scraped knees. It was his fault, of course. Ethan, the boy with eyes the color of a summer meadow after a rain, had tripped me. Again.
"You're going to grow calluses if you keep falling this much, Lily-pad," he'd said, his voice a mix of playful teasing and genuine concern. He extended a hand, surprisingly gentle compared to his usual whirlwind of energy.
That's what Ethan was, a whirlwind – a bright, chaotic force that I never quite knew how to navigate. Even then.
"Maybe if you'd stop running like a rhino," I'd retorted, taking his hand and letting him pull me up.
My hazel eyes probably glared at him, or at least that what I wanted him to think. I was not going to let him see how much his hand held mine made me tingle inside , I was, after all, a master of the subtle eye roll, even at the tender age of six.
"I could stay on my feet, Mr. Flash." His laughter, a bright, ringing sound, was enough to melt away any genuine annoyance.
Ethan was like that, infectious whether he was being a menace or your best friend. We were inseparable from the moment we met. We lived next door to each other, our backyards merged in a tangle of climbing roses and overly enthusiastic tomato plants.
Our mums were best friends, they joked that we were destined to marry each other and it made my stomach feel weird. We spent our days exploring our little pocket of the world as if we were discovering uncharted lands. We built forts in the woods, using fallen branches and our wildest imaginations to create sprawling palaces or hidden pirate coves.
He was always the leader but he also took my ideas. We caught fireflies in jars, watching their tiny flashes of light like we held stolen stars. Ethan was incredibly creative and had a very wild imagination. He would tell me stories of his own and had a collection of fantasy books that he read to me.
One particular sunny afternoon, we were busy building a treehouse, a project that involved a lot of hammering that resulted in more banged thumbs than sturdy planks.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" He asked me one day while laying down looking at the branch.
I remember scrunching my nose, my thoughts swirling. "Maybe a princess," I giggled making him laugh out loud. "Or perhaps a dragon slayer, that sounds much more fun." Ethan perched on a branch above me, his green eyes sparkling with amusement.
"I'm going to be an adventurer," he declared, puffing out his chest. "I'll travel the world and discover hidden treasures and maybe then I can find the greatest treasure of all." he smiled looking down at me it was a weird smile I have never seen on him.
"But what is the greatest treasure?" I asked with a lot of curiosity. "You'll find out one day," he said with a wink.
I didn't understand what he was trying to say. "You always say cryptic things," I said with a playful roll of my eyes.
Our friendship wasn't just fun and games; it was also comfort and safety. I was always a shy child, happy in my own little world. Ethan, with his boundless energy, pulled me out of my shell. He made me laugh more easily. He saw the me that I kept hidden, he just understood me.
The only people I could talk to without hesitation was my mum and dad and Ethan. I was a constant target of his incessant teasing. "Look at her, her cheeks are as red as a tomato!" He'd yell at any chance he got whenever I did something silly or when I was just being quiet.
It seemed as if he lived for the moment of making me flustered. Yet, he was also fiercely protective, the first one to stand up to any kid in the neighborhood who dared to look at me the wrong way.
At this young age, I didn't understand it, but I could feel the subtle shift within me. My heart fluttered with an odd warmth whenever he was near. It wasn't just a childish affection; it was something more, something I didn't have words for yet.
It was my first love. Well I think it was.
By the end of the day I was tired and very dirty. My mom grabbed my hand walking home next to Ethan's mom. I turned my head slightly to look at Ethan with a shy smile.
He returned the gesture with a cheeky grin. "She likes you," my mum said with a giggle. I knew she was talking about me staring at Ethan. I just rolled my eyes at her with a smile.