"So miss Hart, are you Natty's ggiirlffrriieenndd now?" Willow wiggled her eyebrows and a chuckle left my mouth at the weird resemblance she had with Nate. The mischief that was dissolved in those grey irises - although different shades - was one I was all too familiar with.
Where Nate's was more boyish, 'you already know I'm up to no good' spark which always made me weak in my knees, Willow's was a subtle but quirky way of telling you that she 'knows everything'.
"How do you know that word?" I gasped.
"Did he tell you that?" My mouth formed an 'O', because having a conversation about my love life with a six year old had brought me to the realisation that I needed new friends and I needed them fast. Willow was lovely too, but she wouldn't understand why her Natty had cat-scratched m
