Once Upon A One Night Mistake

Taliana Avilla knew she loved Sebastian Phillips from the moment he dropped an ice cream cone on her lap back in preschool. Of course, she never told him that. No, she just picked up the cold vanilla scoop and thrust it in his face instead. He had cried, and she had screamed that he was a poop head.

In kindergarten, he'd stolen her favorite Barbie doll and cut off all its hair. She retaliated by cutting his hair during naptime.

By first grade it was full-on war. He had pushed her off the monkey bars, causing her to fall and scrape her knees. The next day she "accidentally" slammed his forehead into the flagpole. He had a bruise for at least two weeks.

Second grade was the year of rumors and secrets. Sebastian had spread a particularly vicious one about how she still slept with a teddy bear, like a baby. Taliana returned the favor by telling everyone Sebastian wet his pants when he was nervous. She even proved it by pouring a glass of lemonade on his crotch during snack time when no one was looking.

But it was then that Taliana began to question her love for him. Was it really love she felt? Or was it just an overwhelming amount of hate that felt like love? Whatever it was, it was definitely too hard for a seven-year-old to figure out.

Third grade was more of the same. Whispering, spreading rumors only children could think of, and laughing at the other's misfortune whenever the opportunity arose.

By fourth grade, they had reverted to their ways of violence. In a brief attempt to be civil, they had played a game of Monopoly together during free time over the span of a week. She had won, of course, and he'd thrown the board and his game piece at her head. To this day, she still had a slight scar near her hairline where that damn metal dog had cut her. She had wasted no time getting him back, though. The next week during a game of Twister, she kicked him in a particularly sensitive place, causing him to cry harder than she'd ever thought possible.

Fifth grade wasn't too different, except that the rivalry had grown. By the end of that year, Taliana had lost track of how many times he'd pushed her down on the blacktop, accused her of cheating on tests, or closed a door on her fingers. She hadn't been an angel either with all the pencil stabbing, targeted tripping, and book slapping, but she considered her moves to be a bit more honorable.

As usual, the much-needed break from each other came during the summer, but when the start of sixth grade rolled around, it was wartime once again. And it was bound to be the battle to end them all.

***

"Come on, Stick Girl! You're up!"

Taliana glared at the makeshift umpire behind home plate as she strode toward the batter's box. He'd been