I hold up a finger and draw the blinds back in place. Shooting one last, longing glance at my bed, I find the nearest pair of sweats and long-sleeve tee to change into and grab my sketchbook from the vanity drawer. Then I make the rattletrap climb down the stairs. The first step squeaks under my weight, so I hover against the edge on the next step where the sound is much softer. I hug the railing to make it down the flight of stairs after that. I’m more than halfway to the front door when I hear the coffee pot grinding beans.
“Where do you think you’re going, young lady.”
I whip around, and my mom, draped in a plush bathrobe, stands with a coffee mug at the ready.
“Going to see the sun rise?” It comes out more like a question than the statement I was intending to make.
She chuckles as she reads the indecision in my eyes. “You forget I was young once.”
She flicks her gaze to the sheer curtains where the shadows of two boys illuminate from the patio outside. If either of them believes they’ll be an undercover detective one day, they can go ahead and take an atomic bomb to that dream.
“Stay in the yard.”
When the coffee maker chimes, she sets her mug on the counter and fills it to the top with piping hot coffee. I jog over to her, wrapping her in a quick hug before racing to the door.
“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best!”
“Don’t you forget it.” She grins with pleasure. “Oh, and Teddy…? Say hi to the boys for me.”
I burn with embarrassment but flit out the door before she can say any more.
I march over to where they’re dinking around in the grass.
“Reed, I’m going to kill you!”
“Wow, okay. Someone’s not a morning person,” he says, throwing his hands in the air as if he’s under arrest.
“I promise both of you, his death will be worth it,” Miles says.
“Oh, so this wasyouridea?” I say to the one who I thought was the rule follower.
“Just come on,” Miles says, running toward the oak tree. “We don’t have much time.”
I roll the sketchbook up and tuck it into the waistband of my sweatpants. The bulging roots at the base of the tree act as a steppingstone for Reed to climb first. He launches himself from a root to the first knot in the trunk, and then swings one leg over the nearest bulky branch until he’s straddling it. He workshimself onto his feet once more, crouching and reaching for my hand. Miles forms a makeshift step with his fingers woven together. I use it to get to the first knot and depend on Reed’s strong arms to lift me the rest of the way. He hoists me onto the branch and our bodies collide against the trunk, making for an awkward moment of body contact and loss of personal space.
“Miles was right, this was worth it,” he says, gripping my hips.
I punch him in the bicep, a pretty pitiful one with my toothpick arms, and he laughs.
“Relax, I’m kidding. Let me help you to the next branch.”
He offers his laced fingers just like Miles did, and I grumble, “I should be using your head instead of your hands.”
I stuff my tennis shoe in his waiting palms and use everything I have to make it to the next limb.
After that, the branches are a lot closer together, and I’m able to climb higher on my own. I don’t have any idea how high I go. I don’t inspect the drop beneath me. When the branches grow sparse, I find a set that arch out in a V-shape, allowing a seat for my legs to drape on either side.
Reed and Miles are seconds behind me, climbing so much faster than I did. They settle on tree limbs close by, and we all look out over the water.
A faint beam of light pours over the top of the plateaus, the sun hovering just beneath it. It’s melting the dark blues of the night with the ambers of the rising sun. I unfurl my sketchbook and start flipping it to the nearest empty page.
In my peripheral vision, I can see Miles glancing over my shoulder. His eyes smile at the flash of a drawing I finished yesterday. The once faint shadow of his nose turned into the intricate details of his face. It’s just a flash though before we’re both looking at a blank page. I pretend like he didn’t see it andattempt to capture the feeling of a new day with a single pencil in my hand.
I gasp as the curve of the glowing crescent peaks over the mountain tops.
“I knew it would be worth it.” Reed gapes at the rising sun just like I do.
“So worth it,” Miles says, but he’s looking at me.
