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Prologue
Ava
Five Years Ago
Racing across the back yard, I chase after Vance. He’s always faster, and of course makes it to the treehouse before me. The long grass tickles my legs and I almost trip in a hole, missing it just by a hair. I’m too busy paying attention to Vance running ahead of me, than I am of where I’m running. Looking at me over his shoulder, his eyes twinkle in the moonlight, his brown hair looks as if it could use a good cutting, or at least that is what Mom says.
“You’re so slow, Ava. The Ice Age could beat you to the treehouse,” he teases, just as he always does. Mom says it’s because he likes me, but I don’t think Vance likes me, at least not more than a friend. Not that I would ever kiss him. Kissing is gross. Reaching the treehouse, I put my hands on my hips and narrow my gaze. It’s hard to see this far away from the house and a shiver ripples through me as a cold gust of wind blows through my damp hair.
“Not all of us were born with daddy long leg, legs.” Being the jerk that he is, he doesn’t even respond. Instead, he places one foot in front of the other and races up the wooden planks and into the treehouse, his body disappearing from view a second later.
Shaking my head, I climb up the wooden planks as well. The very first time I climbed into the treehouse, my legs were shaking, and my stomach was aching like someone had punched me in it. Now, I race up the steps like it’s second nature. Popping my head through the square cut-out in the floor, I find Vance sitting Indian style in his usual spot. He’s staring out the giant window that overlooks the yard.
This high up, I like to think we can see everything, the town we live in, even my best friend Mallory’s house. But we can’t… see everything that is. Climbing up and into the small space, I take a seat in a similar fashion.
As soon as I’m seated, Vance turns his attention to me. His green eyes are soft and remind me of a vast forest full of trees standing tall and proud even in the worst of circumstances. When he smiles, a weird tingle fills my belly, and I don’t understand why it does that. It happens often though, almost every single time he smiles at me.
My eyes roam over him. He’s wearing a ragged pair of jeans and a plain cotton t-shirt. My dad says his parents don’t have a lot of money because Vance’s father lost his job and that he can’t afford new clothes right now so I shouldn’t tease him or be mean, but I think his clothes look just fine. This is also why his family is living with us for a few weeks, just until his dad finds a new job. Either way, I’m fine with them staying with us. I don’t have any siblings, and I like having Vance here to hang out with when he isn’t being a jerk, or beating me to the treehouse.
With the moonlight shining into the treehouse, it’s easy to see Vance’s face. He rubs at his jaw and scrunches his eyebrows together, the look is one I’ve seen grace his face before. Anytime he looks like this, I know he is thinking hard, digging deep inside his head to try and come up with something worthy of a dare. This is a game we play a lot, and by a lot, I mean nearly every day. Truth or Dare. Or as Vance always says, truth, since that’s usually all I ever choose.
Tonight, however, I chose dare. I don’t know why I did it. I guess I’m just feeling adventurous. Or it could be because I’m tired of Vance always teasing me about picking truth.
When a huge grin spreads across his face, I know he’s thought of something that he deems good enough for the game. I’m a little worried what he’s come up with, and almost change my mind, telling him truth instead. Before I get the chance, his mouth is opening.
“I dare you to…sneak into your parents’ bedroom.”
“My parents’ bedroom? I’ll get into so much trouble if my mom catches me!” I whisper-yell. My dad is at work, so it’s only my mom sleeping in their room. But it’s the middle of the night and I’m supposed to be in bed and asleep, but instead I’m in my treehouse with Vance playing Truth or Dare. We’ll both be in big trouble if our parents find out we’re out here instead of in bed.
“Aw, are you chickening out on me?” he teases, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. My lips set into a firm line, heat creeping into my cheeks at his statement.
