“Fox! Wait!” I squealed as I panted, trying to keep up with my best friend.
He stopped in the thick foliage and turned to me, a giant smile on his boyish face, his blue eyes sparkling. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his forehead. My heart trembled in my chest at the sight of him. It had been doing that a lot lately whenever I was near him.
I swallowed down those butterflies and caught up to him. With an easy smile, he took my hand in his and pulled me through the thick forest. He didn’t release me until we stood beneath the old oak tree where our treehouse was suspended in the mighty branches.
“Dad said he’s going to add onto it for us,” Fox said as he stared up at the treehouse. It wasn’t small by any means, but it wasn’t large. Kurt, Fox’s dad, had a thing for building things. He’d built the treehouse for us on Fox’s sixth birthday. He’d added windows, a slide, and ropes for climbing. Fox could bring anyone he wanted out there, but my best friend and neighbor only ever chose me.
It was our spot. He promised it always would be.
Mom said Fox would outgrow me as we got older. I glanced at him as he stared up at the treehouse, throwing out new ideas for adding an upstairs to it complete with a rope ladder. We were going to be thirteen soon. Girls had taken notice of Fox since school started a few months ago. I’d watch from the background as he laughed and started making new friends. He’d started playing more sports, particularly football, and had recently started hanging out with the cool kids—Cole, Enzo, and Ethan. They didn’t even know I existed.
Fox wouldn’t leave me behind, though. He promised.
“Maybe your dad can put one of those windows on the ceiling,” I offered as Fox grabbed hold of the rope hanging from the small balcony and began hoisting himself up with ease.
“That’d be cool!” Fox called out as he climbed to the top and looked down at me. “Come on, Rosie! Take the rope up.”
I looked to the swinging rope and frowned. There was no way I’d be able to climb it.
“You can do,” Fox shouted from above, waving me up with a smile on his face.
Dang the butterflies in my tummy as their wings beat wildly. I grabbed that rope, desperately wanting to make him happy.
“Wrap your foot around the rope and use it as a step,” Fox instructed, his brows crinkled as I slid down the rope with a whimper. “Try again, Rosie! Come on! I know you can do it!”
I nodded and swallowed hard before grabbing the thick rope again, vowing I’d make it to the top. With every ounce of energy I had, I pulled and fought my way up, sometimes sliding down, my hands burning.
“Almost! You almost have it!”
With a final pull, I reached to the edge of the balcony. Fox’s warm hands greeted me as he helped me the rest of the way, a massive smile on his handsome face.
I let out a squeak of air as he wrapped me in a tight embrace.
“You did it. I knew you could,” he whispered, his breath sending goosebumps through my body as it tickled the shell of my ear. “I didn’t doubt you for a minute.”
He released me, that smile I loved so much still on his face, and took my hand, tugging me into the treehouse. Amy, his mom, had brought up bean bags and a thick carpet for us before the start of summer since we’d been spending more time there. Kurt had left a cooler in a corner and had mentioned filling it for us before we left.
Fox went to the cooler and pulled out two cold sodas and handed me one.
“Your dad is so cool,” I said, taking the soda from him.
“He left some snacks too,” Fox replied, nodding at the small table behind me. He was right. Bags of chips and cookies sat there. “Mom said not to ruin dinner, but I think she forgot we’re staying out here tonight. I don’t know how though. She had Dad bring out clean sleeping bags for us.”
I giggled and snatched a cookie from a package. “Your mom is cool too. I love her.” I bit into my chocolate chip cookie and sighed. Glancing back to Fox, I caught him staring at me, a strange look on his face.
“What?” I asked awkwardly, covering my mouth before I blew crumbs out.
He shook his head and went to the lantern and lit it. “Nothing.”
“It’s something,” I prodded, settling down on an oversized bean bag and watching him as he moved to claim his spot beside me, not bothering with his own bean bag.
“Bean bag hog,” I grumbled as he wiggled next to me.
“This one is mine. Mine is black, yours is pink. Remember?”
I scoffed. “Pink clashes with my hair.”
Fox chuckled and picked up one of my long, red braids, a tiny smile playing up the corner of his lips. “I love your hair. It’s so cool.”
I blushed beneath his compliment.
“I, um, like yours too.”
Fox snorted and rolled his eyes as he snagged a cookie from me. “My hair’s black. There’s nothing fancy about it.”
“There is to me.” I shrugged, my heart beating fast. Fox smiled again. He always smiled when we were together. Even I smiled more.
“Then I guess we’re even, Rosie. We both have cool hair.” He bit into his cookie and chewed in silence for a moment. “Want to tell ghost stories?”
I looked out the window. Darkness had settled. I always cringed whenever Fox wanted to tell stories. He was a pretty good storyteller and had some of the spookiest stories I’d ever heard.
“OK,” I agreed, cringing.
He reached over and turned down the lantern, so it was only a dim orange glow in the treehouse. Then he grabbed one of the sleeping bags and draped it over us before he pulled the other bean bag beneath our legs, so we had a makeshift bed.
I snuggled against his chest, listening to the even beating of his heart. The soft whoosh of air as he breathed in and out added extra comfort. He rested his arm over my shoulders before launching into his story about a monster from the lake who could only come on land once every twenty-five years.
“What does he do when he comes on land?” I asked, my voice shaking as Fox paused his story.
“He takes virgins to the murky depths and feasts on their bones. His watery home is made from the bones of his victims. Sometimes when you sit on the beach at night, you can hear them cry out for mercy over the sound of the waves.”
“Why would he do that to someone?” I ventured, both scared and curious about the monster Fox claimed existed in our lake.
“Because he can, Rosie. Does he need more reason than that?”
I shook me head as Fox gave me a squeeze.
“Your turn. Tell me a story now.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t have a story. Mine always sucked and made him laugh instead of being afraid.
“So, um, once there was this guy with a hook for a hand—”
“Rosie,” Fox groaned. “Come on! That’s so cliché! Everyone knows that story!”
“I don’t have one. Scary stories freak me out, Fox. I get scared to go to sleep.”
“Why?”
I shrugged against him. “I don’t know. I don’t want to get eaten by a monster. And I always believe you when you tell me stuff.”
Fox lifted my chin up with his finger, his dark brows crinkled. “Always?”
I nodded. “Always.”
His blue eyes raked over my face for a moment before he spoke. “Then believe this. I’d never let the monsters get you, Rosie. I’ll always chase them away. I’d hunt each and every one of them down before I let them near you.”
“Promise?” I whispered, my voice trembling as he leaned in.
“Promise.” His warm lips met mine in a gentle, curious kiss, his fingers trailing along my jaw.
“You kissed me,” I breathed out when he pulled away.
He smiled down at me. “You kissed me back.”
“T-that was my first kiss.” I touched my fingers to my lips, the tingle from his still buzzing through them.
“Mine too,” he whispered, his cheeks flushing pink. “But I wanted it to be with you. I kinda had this thought all our firsts would be together. We’re best friends forever, Rosie.”
“I wanted it to be with you too,” I admitted before going quiet. When I spoke, my voice cracked, “Do you promise forever, Fox?”
“Yes,” he murmured. “I promise. Nothing will ever come between us. Best friends are forever, right? Me and you, always, Rosie. Do you promise?”
“I promise, Fox.” I snuggled against him, my heart fluttering like mad in my chest.
Fox had kissed me. He kissed me!
And he promised forever.
I only wished I’d known forever would only last a week until everything fell apart.
