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Cheeks stained pink

Mouth curled in a dark scowl

Eyes blazing hot, red rage she could see even in the pitch-black of the night

Eight nights that he’d been cli the oak tree which divided the land between the Poiriers’ and her house He sat there, hidden by branches and leaves Sometimes he howled to the moon like a lonely wolf Most times, he cried as silently as humanly possible

Seven sleepless nights in which she tossed and turned and mourned for the nameless boy and his mama, before she broke down and decided to approach hih at her Even if he’d show her no ht him

The girl pushed her ith a groan, dragged an old case of books across the carpeted floor, hopped on it, and slipped through the open crack, pouring from the safety of her bedroom to the untamed, uncutin her ears It was huy, and sticky Her white cotton paja frorass was slippery, andto the tree determinedly She cautiously ambled in the same direction

He slohen he saw her, so she picked up the pace Later in life, she’d learn that this was their special tango One pulls, the other pushes One wants, the other gives One loves, the other hurts

“What are you doing here?” he yelled through the rain It was i boo freedom

Step, another step, then another She wondered if that’s how it felt to be alive Really alive Not just living Wet, unco in the rier, his eyes a terrifying hue of ht blue and ire

They stopped about six feet frohtly taller, slightly wider, face slightly tenser, and a lot warier than she expected

“Well?” he repeated, brooding He is far too young to brood, she re And it worried her, despite all reason (their brief history) “Why the hell are you here?”

“I’ the pain she carried for hiin to understand how she’d harbored it for eight nights He needed help, and she wanted to give it to him

They’d start school in a couple of weeks—fifth grade—and he’d be the new kid She decided right then and there that she was going to be his ally She’d be his friend, whether he liked it or not

“You’re sorry?” He snorted out a bitter laugh, shaking his head Raindrops ran fro in an angry line “Well, don’t be I’m perfectly fine”

“You don’t look fine,” she insisted

“Well, I am”

“I’randmama used to say that honesty er than the truth

“Whatever you need, I’m here for you I’m Jolie, by the way” She stretched her hand between the, like she offered himfelt bizarre Grown-up The oak tree beside the as they made this unlikely pact