Superficial

Secrets In The Tree House

yay i'm writing again!! please pray for us easterners, the wind is getting quite scary....

love you guys!!! please keep reading!

I followed Elliott up a hill right behind the barn, a bit nervous. I had only met him a few minutes ago, and now he was leading me to some secret location in the pitch black dark.

He turned back to me. "You okay?" He laughed.

"No," I huffed. We started walking again. "I should be back inside. My dad's going to worry about me."

"Okay, see you later." He kept walking on, not even turning around.

I stopped, frowning. Who did he think he was?

Elliott was a far distance in front of me. I decided it might be better to follow him the rest of the way instead of making the terrifying trip in the dark back to the barn and chased after him. "Hey, wait!"

Again, he didn't even look back. "I thought you were going back to the barn." His tone was simple and unaffected.

"Well, I was, but... I changed my mind," I said, trying not to sound like a 'wimp,' as he put it.

"Why? You scared of a little darkness?" He joked.

I didn't answer. Okay, maybe I was a bit scared of the dark.

Elliott waited at the peak of the hill, and I jogged to catch up with him. We stood in front of what appeared to be a tree house. A really old, rickety tree house.

I scoffed. "I am not going up there. It's not safe."

He shrugged. "Mmkay, you can wait out here." He started to walk towards the pile of junk.

I rolled my eyes in frustration and followed him to the ladder. "You're an idiot,"

He didn't answer, but led the way up the unstable ladder, careless step after careless step.

"Aren't you scared it'll like, tip over or something?" I asked, bewildered by his ease at climbing into the decrepit structure.

"I go up here all the time," Elliott answered. "It hasn't let me down yet."

I popped my head into the tree house, and it looked like it definitely was used often. There were a few bean bags strewn about in one corner, some blankets folded neatly and piled on a wooden chair, a couple of board games and books on a shelf, and small candles in little dishes spread about the place. "Nice crib," I muttered.

"Thanks. Decorated it myself." He replied, running his hands through his dark curls. "Sit." He motioned for me to sit in one of the bean bags.

I sat, taking in the home-y atmosphere. Elliott removed a blanket from the chair and tossed it to me.

"Thanks." It felt a bit chilly in the woods despite the humidity from what could have only been the sign of a coming rain.

He took a lighter out of his pocket and lit all the candles to provide some light before sitting down on the chair with a blanket for himself. "So. How was the move?" I was wondering about the lighter. Did he smoke? Was he a pyromaniac or something?

I dismissed the crazy thoughts from my head, as I was probably just being paranoid.

"Awful," I answered truthfully. I was starting to trust him; so far, he didn't seem as sketchy as I assumed he was.

"'Sucks. Do you miss your friends and all?" Elliott inquired.

"Not exactly. I didn't really have many." I stared down at my Converse.