It was the first week of Cedar Point�s opening. (Cedar Point is an amusement park on an island on Lake Erie.) School was still in session and the rains began. There were no children in Kiddie Kingdom, the ride area where we were assigned for the whole summer. Since it was early in the season, management wasn�t riding our asses, and we were permitted to stand in groups under the sheltered kids� rides. Brandon, Me, and some other girl (I can�t remember if it was Kristen or Jessie) were standing under his ride, the Roto Whip. It was cold, it was rainy, it was dreary, but we were having a great time beginning to know each other. We talked about where we were from, and why we were at Cedar Point.

As we talked, I noted Brandon�s looks. He was about 5�10� (which is tall to my 5�1� stature) and large in build. He had blue eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses and underneath a head of sandy blonde, wildly curly hair. He had the best smile ever. It went from ear to ear and lit up his entire face. He had this way of swaying as he talked. Throughout the conversation, Brandon proved to be quite the comedian. He was one of the funniest people I�ve ever met. His jokes weren�t obnoxious, they never offended anyone, and he never took them too far. As we spoke, he would lean forward and touch my left arm. He invited me over for dinner of spaghetti-o�s that night, and I knew we would build a great friendship that might even turn to romance.

Throughout the summer, we became the best of friends. In the Kingdom, we were inseparable. Our days were full of jokes and shenanigans, and everyone knew how great our friendship was.

I can remember one day, Brandon was on the carousel as I squeegeeed away puddles from one of the many rains of that summer. The carousel had a microphone that guests could hear all over the Kingdom. Brandon put it to good use by declaring me Employee of the Hour. As he ran the ride, he announced to everyone within earshot that I was the star employee. He told all the guests I was squeegeeing and to shake my hand and share congratulations. The guests took it literally, and I was hounded. I laughed the rotation away as he talked and guests shook my hand.

I used to go home with Brandon every night after work. We�d head to his room, knock as hard as we could on a friend�s door, and run into his room laughing. From there, we might change, collect George (the friend we tortured so often) and go riding before the park closed. If it was too late, we might grab a pizza or Brandon might treat me to a dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Most nights, I�d fall asleep on his bed, he�d wake me up, and we�d walk through the park to my dorm. Brandon was always kind enough to escort me across the dark midway.

As the summer wore on, my feelings toward Brandon developed into more than friendship. I waited patiently for him to make the first move, but he never did.

One night, about an hour before the parked closed and our shifts ended, I felt really ill. My stomach was full of cramps, and I was sure I was dehydrated. Brandon escorted me to my dorm as usual. The path we took went down a shady lane banked by curbs. Normally, I�d trot along the curbs as I walked with Brandon. That night, I felt too ill and simply held his arm. Even though I felt horrible, we had plans with some friends for a euchre tournament. I figured I�d be sitting, I�d drink some water, and I would be fine. I made it through the tournament, but I still felt sick. Afterward, Brandon and I went to the marina. We sat on the edge of a dock, and I laid my head in Brandon�s lap until I felt better. He stayed with me, with no complaints.

The next day, I was fine, and as we walked to my dorm, I trotted along the curb like so many nights before. Brandon said, �I�m glad to see you on that curb, I know you�re feeling better.�

I thanked him, and knew I was in love.

The summer wore on, and my week�s vacation drew near. Brandon had yet to make a move, so after consultation with fellow crew members, I decided to make mine. One night, I was off, and I walked to Brandon�s ride. I stepped under the shelter of the kiddie cars and said, �I know you like me, and I like you, so let�s do something about it.�

Normally, this action would�ve terrified me. Most boys don�t like directness from girls, and they run scared when girls admit feelings. Brandon was different, and he agreed. It was official, we were dating.

Before I left for my vacation, Brandon tacked a love letter to my dorm�s bulletin board. It was full of nice things, and he told me I was beautiful. He was the first boy to ever do so.

However, our love was not meant to last. I returned from my vacation as all the college kids left for home. Soon Brandon would leave, and we had no plan for our relationship. The summer ended, as did our love.

He and I returned the next year, but our love did not. For some reason, our friendship didn�t last the changes of the winter.

I held on to his love letter as long as I could, until one day, I couldn�t find it anywhere.

I have pictures, and I�ll look through them and remember the days of my first love. We never kissed, we were the picture of innocence, but that doesn�t deny what it was.

I can still remember those days, his smile, his laugh, the way he looked at me, and I haven�t found another, and I wonder if I ever will.