The sky stretches wide in deep oranges and reds as I walk across the yard toward the old oak tree, and my stomach performs those familiar little flips that always come whenever John calls me over like this.
We have been best friends since we were small children, neighbors who played together every day and shared every secret.
But lately something between us feels heavier and more electric, and I do not quite know what to do with the way my heart races whenever he looks at me.
I have carried a quiet crush on him for years, loving him in silence while he seemed to see me only as the girl next door, and tonight the air feels thick with everything we have never said.
I climb the ladder to the treehouse, feeling the cool evening breeze brush against my thighs as my dress rides up slightly,
