She sits there on the other side of the white picket fence as i stand staring at her. My stomach swirls as I anticipate what we could do. Fly the wings of an eagle, glide along with the wind. And as I stand fantasizing, she looks up and waves. I don’t who she is, or her name even, and it should be easy to wave back, but no. I stand there dumbly as she walks up to me in a pair of jean shorts and a tank top.

“Hi,” she says, flashing me a smile. “I’m Hillary.”

“I’m Zachary. Nice to meet you, Hill. Is it okay if I call you Hill?” I mentally slap my fore head, oh man did I sound stupid. She was gonna think I was a dork. A total dork. Good going, Zac.

“Yeah. Nice to meet you, too, Zac,” she responds cooly. “Do you go by Zac? You do, don’tcha?”

“Yep.” I smile, feeling slightly more comfortable.

She opens the white picket fence and it all clears. Yes. I am in love with her.