I can remember the first time I met him, clearly. It's not something I could forget. His green eyes stood out the most. We were only 7 years old at the time, but I knew even then. He was mine. He knew I was his too. I can remember our parents sitting on the park benches gossiping. They'd been friends in school and had plenty to talk about. The clouds were gone and the sun was shinnying bright enough to hurt my eyes, but I didn't care. He was right there in front of me. He took a step towards me. I took a step towards him too.

Then we were kissing. At seven years old I hadn't ever kissed anyone, I was still a little girl. He was seven too. We weren't kissing like shy seven year olds though. We kissed like lust driven teenagers and I could hear my mothers screams of shock and surprise, but I didn't let him go.

A part of me knew that seven year olds just didn't do this, but it was like I couldn't control my own body. My mother's hands ripped me from his arms and a scream ripped from my throat. The loss I felt when I loss his touch was so real it hurt. She set me down instantly because she knew that I only screamed when I was in pain. I was a smart seven year old. As soon as my feet hit the ground I ran to him. He was kneeling on the ground, gasping for breath. As soon as I touched his shoulder he wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace.

Then as suddenly as the whole lust fest started it ended. I was a normal seven year old and thought boys were gross so I pushed him away and he let go of me like I'd burned him.

Our parents were stupefied. Every person in the park had their eyes on us.

His mother screamed at mine. Mine screamed at his, but we didn't understand why then.

"Your daughter attacked my son!"

"Your son attacked my daughter!"

They were both wrong. We hadn't attacked each other. It was like we'd been possessed. Maybe we had been, but I knew that we would never see each other after this.

"What's your name?" I whispered urgently. I knew that my mom would take me home soon.

"Kyle, what's your's?"

"Maya. I'm sorry your mom is mad at mine." I was too nice for my own good. He glared at me for a moment and then the walked over to his mother and tugged on her arm. She looked down at him in disgust. I knew that look. It was the look my own father gave me before we left him. She picked up her purse and walked away. Kyle followed her, but she turned around and slapped him across the face so hard that he fell on to the rough pavement of the parking lot.

"Mary! He's your son!" My mother said and I was glad that my mom swore never to hit me after dad hit her.

Mary kept walking and when she slammed her car door closed she raced from the park and out of sight. Kyle as still lying on the ground so I walked over to him, ignoring my mothers calls. What if he was hurt? I help him up and led him back to my mother.

"He doesn't have a home anymore." I told her. It only made sense that he would stay with us, right? I'd always wanted a big brother.

My mother was torn. She didn't understand what happened, but she had such a kind heart. She couldn't leave Kyle out their alone without any family.

"Welcome to the family Kyle." she whispered and took both our hands and led us to the car. I think she expected someone to come to the door from child services and say he had an aunt, father or grandmother to take care of him. No one came. Kyle didn't ever say he wanted his father or anyone else to take of him, so here we were, together. 9 years later.

A/N: I already have the next chapter written out, if you like this I'll post as soon as I get three reviews!