Young love

He was waving.  We passed the bus stop and I was walking behind him.  He was waving frantically.  I though he knew some one that was waiting for the bus, but I looked back and there was no one there.  We kept walking and he kept waving.  I followed his gaze, out to the street and thought maybe he was just waving at the cars, but that didn't seem to be the case.  I kept looking and then I saw her, the little four your old brunette in her pink snow coat and pink rain boots.  She was sneaking covert little waves back at this frantically waving little boy.  And she was laughing.  It was the cutest thing to behold.  Young love at age 4.