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Fifteen minutes, and three dozen questions later with no answers, and we’re driving through Jagger’s family property.
I don’t bother asking because it’ll get me nowhere. Instead, I keep my mouth shut and enjoy the ride.
That is, until I realize we’re heading onto my property. “Wait, this isn’t Jagger’s property anymore.”
Jagger leans forward, his chin pressed to my shoulder. “I beg to differ, but we won’t start that argument again.”
The memories flood me all at once.
“What in the world, Scar?” A guy’s voice rings into the small space.
I gasp. “Jagger?”
“Yeah. It’s me.” He pushes himself up, and I reclaim my spot against the far wall.
“How’d you know I was here? Better yet,whyare you here? Shouldn’t you be at the movies with ‘everyone who’s anyone’?” I air-quote the words used by Neo earlier, when he was pleading his case to Maddie on why she should go with them instead of roller skating with me.
“Gimme a minute.” He drops down against the opening and rubs his forehead, babying the spot where I kicked him, if you’d even call it that.
“Oh, come on. Don’t act like I hurt you. I was merely tapping your forehead. Didn’t even put any force behind it.”
“It didn’t hurt at all.” He picks at his forehead and I’m unsure why. “But you had gum on the bottom of your shoe.”
I fight back laughter. “Oh. Well, it serves you right for invading my space.”
“Your space?” He squints. “Since when?”
“Seriously?” I glare. “Since my dad had it built for me on our property.”
Jagger laughs, running his sticky fingers on a floorboard while trying to wipe the gum off. “What are you talking about? This is my family's property.”
“Shut up.” I snort, though it’s not the least bit funny. Sure, the Coles’ family property butts up to ours, but we’ve got over twenty acres, and there’s no way my dad would build my treehouse on the wrong property.
“You’re wrong, baby Scar.” He tips his chin confidently. “Last year I walked our property lines with my dad and my uncle and this treehouse is, in fact, on Cole land.”
I run my hand down my face, watching him carefully to see if he’s joking, but he looks dead serious.
Finally, he laughs. “I’m just messing with you. It’s on your property, but you haven’t been out here in ages, so I sort of took over it.”
“You can’t do that,” I spit out. “This is private property.”
He drops down, legs bent and hands dangling over his knees. “Oh yeah? You gonna tell your daddy on me?”
“Maybe I will.”
I never did tell on him. Never planned to. Not long after that day, my treehouse was gone. All the memories, up in smoke. Neo destroyed it in an attempt to ease his pain, and now, I really hope it helped him in some way.
Neo brings the Gator to a slow roll before coming to a stop. He reaches over and grabs a bandana sitting in the slit of the dash. Holding it up, he says,“Turn your head.”
I do as he says but peg him with questions while he covers my eyes with the old, musty cloth. “Why are you blindfolding me? Where are we going? What’s this about?”
Someone helps me out, who I think is Crew, based on the soft hand touching my skin.
We walk a few steps, the guys keeping quiet the entire time. Snow rides up my pant leg and I don’t even bother to shake it free because I’m too curious as to where we’re going.
Finally, we stop. Gloved hands come up behind me, and I know it’s Neo, because he’s the only one wearing any. Then the blindfold drops. “Surprise,” Neo says.
My mouth falls open when I see the biggest, most beautiful, most spectacular treehouse I’ve ever laid eyes on. Two stories with an arch as high as the trees surrounding it. There’s a staircase with lights strung around the banister, and even a small balcony. It’s any treehouse lover's dream. It’s my dream.
