A Month Of Memories #3

I was thinking back to the first time I really started to love him, and I've manage to trace my feelings for him back to when we were six or seven years old.
Our grandmother's have always been close, and they used to go out for brunch together and drag Nate and I along with them. That's how I first met him.
In one of these laborious meetings, where we had to act like young adults instead of the children that we really were, Nate and I were urged to talk quietly amongst ourselves whilst our grandmother's discussed some heated gossip that was circulating around the Upper East Side. As we did, he began to whisper quietly to me about his friends, and what he was planning to do this week, and all those totally irrelevant childish things you talk about when in a forced conversation.
A few moments later, Nate's grandmother decided to take it upon herself to act on this gossip, so she said goodbye to my grandmother and so did Nate and I.
I remember very clearly telling him that I'd see him at tomorrow at school, and immediately afterwards, he hugged me and planted a tiny kiss on my cheek.
As a seven year old boy, kissing a girl is normally totally off limits. In fact, even talking to a girl without being repulsed by her is pretty remarkable, so you can imagine my shock when he did both of those things.
I then remember repeating 'See you at school tomorrow' about three times, in the hope that that simple phrase was a trigger for him to want to hug me and/or kiss me again.
But unfortunately it wasn't, and all three of them looked upon me in slight confusion as to my mental state, but as he walked away, he looked back at me. It was a somewhat fleeting glance, but I couldn't help but feel myself slipping into the world of love. I didn't know that then, and neither did I know that I'd never rise out of my love for him, but now I look back, I know what I felt. I used to feel it every time our eyes met like that until the day he died.