Walking with the person you love is the best feeling in the world. It's like you want time to stop, to stay in that position with him forever. The love, the hope of you and him being together for the rest of your life. Well, thats how I feel right now. I don't need the beach. I don't need the expensive presents. I don't really care anymore. I don't care if I become friendless. I don't care if bad luck decides to come and share my life. No, I dont care. Not if I have him... because without him, life's not worth living.

He's someone that not many people have but everyone needs, young or old. He's someone who's always right next to you even if you don't take the same path. Someone who always seemed to be right, but never held it against you when you were'nt. Someone who without him, your life would most likely be entirely different.

I guess I'm lucky. I have him. Peter. Peter's more than a neighbour. More than a science partner. He's my best friend. He lives six houses down from me which made my move to a new neighborhood a lot easier. He's one of those people who's friends with everybody. And is friends with everyone because he's so special. He's always in a good mood, always has something pleasant to say, and no matter what's going on, he can always get you to smile. He's small for his age - smaller than the other guys, but he still practically towered over me. His hair - nearly always in a floppy hair-do. Longer than the normal length and a bit shaggier than the latest trend, but still happened to look amazing enough for me to stare like an idiot. His facial features, so soft, that if you met him only once I doubt you would forget his name. Just one look in this sparkled eyes in the deepest shade of grey, almost black, would make your heart melt. Everywhere he goes, there will be laughter, smiles and happiness spreading out like some sort of delightful virus.

Peter was only one year older when we first met and we were both extremelly young. I was in eighth grade and he was in ninth. I used to walk past him everyday when I passed the main desk to the library. He would be there with the lost boys as they call themselves, his best friend's. Exceptionally good-looking but no way near Peter's level of hotness.

I used to hate going throught that corridor. It made me feel sick. It smelt like an old people's home mixed with yesterdays leftovers from the canteen. It didn't look any better either. You could honestly tell it was an old school. The wallpaper on the walls had started to go bubbly and it was starting to peel off the wall at the top. The whole place seriously needed a make-over.

The first time I spoke to Peter was the first day of eighth grade. I had so many new text books. The new seventh years, well they thought they were clever and barged past me sending the books and me flying into the seriously miffed Nibs - one of the lost boys. Peter rushed over straight away to ask me if I was ok, making me blush. He helped me pick up my books and I rushed off looking back just as I was about to turn the corner to reviel him still looking at me.

That was the first real glimpse I got of him really, and I never really got over the eyes I had seen all day. At last period, I saw him outside the main entrance, it looked like he was waiting for some-one. Before I reached the main entrance I looked up to see him smiling down at me a crooked smile so beautiful I had to look down to stop him seeing my beetroot cheeks.

"I think this belongs to you," his voice, deep, but sweet, like music to my ears, made me look up. In his hand lay my book. I must of dropped it this morning. I hadn't even realised, he had pretty much kept my mind busy all day. I grabbed it gently out, smiling.

"Thank-you," I whispered, a little breathless. He smiled that mouth-watering, heart melting smile, then turned slowley to join Nibs again - I guess he had to catch his bus. I had to catch a bus too but my legs couldn't move. I thought they had turned to jelly.