1
EMMA
Myles Green was my best friend.
Myles Green killed my sister.
But I broke Myles Green’s heart long before that.
I was never a good child. Even at my best I was hard to love, always managing to fall into trouble at every turn like I was addicted to it. My sister, on the other hand, was everything I wasn’t. She was the one my parents bragged about to all their friends, and I knew I’d never be able to compete with her. It used to bother me that I was different from my family, but when I met Myles it didn’t seem to matter as much.
I found him when I was eight and playing by my tree house. I spotted him through my binoculars while I was hanging upside down from a branch. He had just moved in next door with his mother, into the big white house that looked like it belonged in a Regency novel instead of being on the same street as us. His mother was pretty as if she was straight out of a movie, but he didn’t have a father or any other siblings. It was just the two of them in that big house.
Myles stood at the base of the tree and his little face was scrunched up like a puffer fish, almost making his eyes disappear behind his swollen cheeks. His curly dark hair was gelled to the point each curl stood up like a stiff meringue peak.
“What’s wrong?” I called out.
“My dog. I can’t find him.”
My curiosity was immediately spiked. I loved animals, but we couldn’t have any because my mom was allergic. “What’s his name?”
“Duke,” he said, sniffling.
“That’s a fun name.” I pulled myself right side up and balanced on the branch with my bare feet as I walked back to the tree house. I poked my head out of the window. “Climb up, and let’s see if we can spot him.”
He wiped his eyes on his shirt, leaving wet splotches on the front. “Do I really have to come up? What if I fall and get hurt?”
I bent down by the opening of the tree house and stared at the funny boy in Bermuda shorts. “You want to find Duke, don’t you?”
I’ll admit, I knew there were numerous other ways to go about finding his dog, but I wanted him to come up. I wanted a friend, and I thought if I could convince him to come up once, maybe, just maybe, he’d come back and play with me.
He gulped and closed his eyes before he grabbed the rope ladder. His hands shook and his grip was way too loose.
“You should probably open your eyes,” I said.
He bit his lip, looking around. “What if I look down and get scared?”
This boy was, as I’d soon learn, afraid of everything.
I tilted my head, smiling at him with my crooked teeth and messy brown hair. “Don’t look down then. Look at me.”
He opened his eyes and craned his neck up. That was the first time I noticed the way Myles smiled. He didn’t smile big. It was a shy smile lifting the corner of his mouth in the slightest way possible, but it was there. He tucked his lips in as if smiling was a crime, and he nodded. “Okay.”
He reached for the next rung, watching me with each movement up.
I liked being watched as if I was important. I liked that this boy smiled when I talked to him because I was used to being told to be quiet. And I liked that he believed me when I told him we could find his dog if he came up. My idea wasn’t silly, and him listening was proof.
His fingers wrapped around the wooden floorboards of the tree house, knuckles white. He pushed himself up, but then looked down at his feet and began to wobble just as he brought his foot up.
“Help me!” His arms flailed like a windmill, and he swayed back.
I grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled him toward me, crashing onto the oak floor. I stared into his giant scared eyes. “I got you.”
He scrambled to his feet, huffing for breath.
I froze because I was afraid he’d start crying again, but instead his tiny smile came back. He looked down at his clothes and his arms and legs. “I’m okay.”
“Of course you’re okay.” I knew right then and there I wanted him to keep coming back. “I won’t let you get hurt.”
