A/N: Hey Guys! Uh... this is my first fanfic on this site, and I'm kind of nervous whether or not this is good. I know it's short, but it's only the introduction. I love Twilight, but I also love to write, and I'm hoping that you guys comment on my writing as well as this story! ...Ok, I'll shut up, now. : )

I gripped the edge of my table with excitement. There was only a minute left until playtime. I scanned the blue wooden shelves, decorated with building blocks, action figures, and Barbie dolls, for a toy. Then, I laid my eyes on the toy I would play with.

It was a model rocket that was an exact replica of the ones launched at NASA . The white paint glimmered as the sun's rays were upon it. It looked so new...

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Twenty seconds left. I licked my lips. I was so going to be the one that was going to play with the rocket-ship.

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"Okay, class!" our teacher exclaimed. "It's play-time!"

I ran to the toy as the kids were just rising from their chairs, and when I reached the ship, I held it up. I was amazed at how pretty and shiny it was. As I was admiring my toy, a hand gripped around my precious NASA ship and pulled it out of my grasp. With my mouth agape, I looked at the little monster who took my pride and joy (at the moment). You already know who this little monster is... right?

That little monster was my future best friend.

He held the ship to his chest in a protective manner, his eyes narrowed. "This toy is mine," he growled.

To be totally honest, I was speechless. This kid just came up to me, took my toy, and was saying it was his? I wanted to punch the kid, but I managed to control myself. I clenched my teeth instead. "How is it yours?" I asked in frustration. He looked at me with what looked like an 'are-you-stupid' look and an angry look mixed in one.

"Easy," he stated, "since I have it, it's mine." He stuck his tongue out at me. I grabbed the toy and tried to tug it away from him.

"No! It's mine!" I screamed. I tried my best to get it back, but my attempts were in vain. I pulled my hands away from the toy, balled up one of my small fists, and launched it right into the boy's face. Obviously, whatever self control I had disappeared completely. He dropped the toy and his hands shot up to his face as he fell to the floor. A small yelp escaped from his lips. I picked up the NASA rocket and smiled triumphantly, but then, I heard the boy's quiet sobs. I looked down at the boy on the floor, and he let his hands fall from his face; his nose was dripping a little bit of blood that he wiped on his sleeve. He then looked at me, and when he did, I broke. He had beautiful emerald-green eyes, which were glimmering, shining as tears cascaded down his cheeks. He really had a cute face, which I failed to notice since I was literally blinded by anger. I didn't want to see his beautiful face in despair and pain because it pained me, too.

That's when I wrapped my small arms around his shoulders and cried with him.

At that moment, the rocket ship collided with the floor with a dull thud. That's when I realized something: the classroom was dead silent. Our sobs were the only things shattering the silence inside the classroom. All of the preschoolers were staring at us in amazement. The teacher noticed the two of us crying, and walked over to us. Her face was sincere, her voice was soothing.

"What happened? Are you two alright?" she asked. I was silent. I prepared myself for a scolding; I was ready for him to rat me out.

Surprisingly, the scolding never came.

"It's okay, Ms. Kennedy," the boy responded, "we were playing with the rocket. When she threw it to me, I missed, and it hit me." he smiled at me and wiped his eyes dry with his sleeve.

"Why don't you go to the nurse's office?"

"Okay, Ms. Kennedy, but can she come with me, too?" He pointed at me. I was too surprised at the scene presented before me to speak.

"Yes, she can come with you. Just be careful, and don't wander off."

We walked over to the door. He opened it, held it open for me, and then followed me as the door closed behind us. As we walked down the empty hallways, I gained the courage to speak to him. "Why didn't you tell on me?" I asked.

"Because you're nice." he replied. At that moment, I was really confused. I had hit punched him in the face, and yet, he thought I was nice? I didn't think it made any sense.

"I don't get it." I admitted.

"Well..." he looked up to the ceiling, as if contemplating what to say, and then he looked at me, a sincere, genuine smile on his cute face. "If you were mean, you wouldn't have cried with me. You even dropped the cool rocket! If you were really mean, you would've played with the rocket, and you wouldn't have cared about me. You didn't, though, and..." he looked away for a moment, and then looked back at me, a cute blush on his face. "I'm sorry I took your toy away."

I smiled at him. "I'm sorry I punched you." I said. He then held out his hand and smiled brightly.

"Friends?" he asked. I grabbed his hand and grasped it tightly.

"Friends!" I stated happily. We were silent for a moment, still holding hands as we made our way to the nurse. "You know, you're my first friend." I admitted. He chuckled.

"You're my first friend, too. So that means you're my best and only friend!" he laughed softly. I gave him a toothy grin.

"Yep! You're my best friend in the whole wide world!" I giggled.

Surprisingly, just like that, we became best friends. Together, with our hands laced together, we ran to the nurse's office. From then on, I noticed my world became impossibly brighter than before.