“Come out back,” Nico says. “I want to show you something.”
“Smooth.”
He bumps his shoulder against mine. “Right?”
He slides open the screen door and we step onto a stark tile patio. No flowers. No greenery. Yet still gorgeous. There’s a barbecue in the corner, a fire pit in the middle, and twinkle lights strung across the wooden slats of a pergola. I gasp when I look at the wall above the picnic table.
“You have a flat-screen. On your patio. Are you kidding me?”
“You’re too easily impressed. But forget the TV. What I want to show you is over there.”
My eyes follow where he’s pointing. Past the patio, farther into the yard, is a big oak tree. Tucked high up into its sturdy branches is a rugged little tree house. A rope ladder hangs along the trunk, and Nico leads the way up the rungs to the entrance. We both have to wiggle our way through an opening barely bigger than a doggie door, and I land in an awkward tangle on top of the hardwood floor, like I’ve just been birthed.
“Smooth,” Nico says as he scrambles to his feet, holds out his hand, and helps me up.
I brush off my knees and elbows. “I like to make an entrance.” I sniff. “It smells like boy in here.”
“Well, yeah.”
I squint my eyes through the dark and see a small window behind Nico. On the floor there’s a magnifying glass. Books and notebooks. An empty box of Pop-Tarts. There’s a beanbag chair and a flashlight. A backgammon game. A chessboard. A deck of cards. There’s a pair of broken earbuds. A pile of Pokémon trading cards. And a set of walkie-talkies and binoculars.
“You’re like Encyclopedia Brown up in here. Do you solve mysteries, too?” I restrain myself from adding, Dun dun dun. “Or are you just a total creeper spying on all your neighbors?” I motion to the window, which has a perfect view of the house next door.
“Total creeper.” Nico flicks on the flashlight and sets it upright like a lantern, bathing the inside of the tree house in a soft, warm glow.
“Nice.”
He sinks down into the beanbag chair and the insides smoosh around as he burrows in.
“Sit with me. We can both fit.” He’s angled off to the side a little, but there’s not a ton of extra space.
“You sure about that?”
He grins. “We’ll make it work.”
I attempt to settle in next to him. The only way to fit is if I lean my back against the tree house wall and drape my leg across Nico’s. He rubs my calf, then spiders his fingertips up and around to pick at the ragged threads left over from the hole in the knee of my jeans.
“So,” I say.
“So.” He smiles.
“Do you bring all the girls up here?”
“Definitely. There’s nothing hotter than a guy with a tree house.”
“I’ll say.”
“Juniper.” He looks at me seriously. “You’re the only girl I’ve brought up here. For real.”
I smile. “I’m honored. For real.”
“I mean, look at this place. It’s like my most embarrassing secrets exposed.” He kicks at the Pokémon cards. “But I’m never embarrassed with you. You make me feel like I can always be myself.”
“For the record, your tree house is cool. I need to lobby for one in my backyard so I can spend the whole day in it to escape my family.”
“I only come up here at night.”
“Because of the bees?”
“Yeah.” He picks at my jean threads again. “Too dangerous in the daylight.”
“You’re like a vampire.” I eye the game boards. “So do you play chess against yourself while you’re here?”
“Nah, those are left over from when Matteo and I would face off.”
“Your brother.”
“Yeah.” He raises his eyebrows. “Do you play chess?”
“Is my dad my dad? Of course I do.”
“Wanna play now?”
I smile huge. I smile like Nico. “I totally do.”
He leans over, gives me a quick peck on my cheek, and stands up. His leaving throws the beanbag off-kilter, and I have to realign myself to be able to stand up, too. Nico grabs a blanket from the corner and shakes it out before spreading it across the floor. I sit down, crossing my legs like a pretzel twist, and help him set up the board.
“Last piece,” Nico says, holding up his queen. He kisses her. “Let’s do this,” he tells her.
I shake my head. “Wow.”
“Hey. This is my tree house, which gives me free rein to dork out.”
“Well done.”
He rubs his hands together. “Get ready to get your ass kicked, Juniper Jade.”
“You wish.”
Nico opens the game by moving his queen’s pawn.
“My dad has a timer.” I mimic Nico’s first move. “Thirty seconds per turn.”
“That’s some very serious Bobby Fischer–style game play.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
Nico maneuvers one of his pawns. “Is he exhausting? Your dad?”
“Sometimes. But not always.”
Nico nods. “Yeah. I get it.”
“Is yours?” I move again.
“I’m not sure. I don’t see him much. Don’t know him that well.” He shifts his gaze from the board to me. “I was only three when my parents split up and my dad moved away. I feel like I have to get to know him again every summer.”
“That must be weird.”
“It’s not ideal.” He shrugs. “What makes your dad exhausting?”
“His inability to see his privilege.” I sigh. “And I don’t just mean about vaccinations. It’s everything. Even the littlest things.”
Nico leans forward to study the board. “Like what?”
I think for a minute. “Organic food, for instance.”
“Not a bad thing.”
“No. But my dad doesn’t acknowledge that it takes money to eat and live organically. I’m sure there are plenty of people who’d love to make it a priority, but they literally can’t afford to. My dad insists there are small things anyone can do, but buying the shampoo and the makeup and the mattresses and the food is more expensive. Even buying organic chicken for your whole family costs twice as much as nonorganic. It adds up.”
“You’ve really thought about this.”
“I have. And I’ve pointed it out, but…”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Nico moves another pawn. “So organic chicken and chess. Your house sounds like a real party.”
“Oh yeah. My parents really know how to do it up. Remember the Halloween toothbrushes?”
“How could I forget?”
“And there are also concerts in the park in the summer.”
“The park isn’t so bad.” He leans back on his hands. “I’ve always wanted to be one of those old guys who plays dominoes on the tabletops there, laughing and messing around with my other retired friends all day. How great would that be?”
“Living the dream.”
“You know it. Me and my EpiPen and my box of dominoes. And a best friend who gets to our table before me.” He laughs. “Some guy who wears a porkpie hat and loves Fellini films.”
“You might’ve been born in the wrong generation.”
“Possibly.”
I study Nico and the faint smile on his lips as his hair flops over his eyes. “I’m glad you were born when you were.” I want to push his hair back into place. I want to touch him. “So you can be sixteen right now.” And adorable. I can’t stop looking at him. I can’t stop thinking about him. Even when he’s right here in front of me.
“I’m glad, too.”
“Are you sick of playing chess yet?” I ask.
He looks at me and smiles. “Maybe. Why? Did you have something else in mind?”
“Yes.”
“Like what? Using my binoculars to spy on my neighbors?”
“Depends. Would you rather spy on your neighbors or kiss me?”
“No contest.” Nico lifts up on his hands and leans across the chessboard. Hovers. Waiting. I push up on my own hands and meet him halfway. The stars sparkle through the window behind him. Some of the chess pieces roll away when I bump the board with my knee. “I’m probably never going to find my rooks again,” he says as his mouth hovers above mine.
“I’ll help you find them. Your bishops, too.”
“Doesn’t even matter. You’re the best thing in my tree house anyway.”
“Please kiss me.”
And he finally does. I sigh happily and feel his lips shift into a smile.