Before Lena, I didn't knew houses can feel like sunshine.
The bell rang, and the hallway erupted into a stampede of little feet and swinging backpacks. I shuffled down the steps beside Lena, watching her hop off the last stair like she was a superhero landing from flight.
"You wanna come over?" she asked suddenly, not even looking at me, like it was the most casual thing in the world.
I blinked. "Come over where?"
"My house, silly." She grinned, tightening the strap of her backpack. "We can draw and eat cookies and maybe.." she lowered her voice like she was about to reveal a classified secret, " Have a sleepover."
I hesitated. My fingers curled around the frayed strap of my own bag. "I've never been to… anyone's house."
Lena tilted her head. "Not even for a playdate?"
I shook my head. I felt embarrassed about it, maybe because I was already 10. Or maybe, because of the soft, pitying look Lena was giving me. Come on, it's not that big a deal!
She shrugged. "Well, then it's about time. You're coming. I already decided."
From behind us, Max piped up, "Better not fall off the ladder! That treehouse is tall!"
I turned pale. Lena rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Max. "Ignore him. He's jealous because I'm inviting you and not this loud mouth."
I didn't say it aloud, but something fluttered in my chest. Half nerves, half something like hope.
The walk to her house was a new kind of adventure. We lived in the same neighborhood, but I had never really noticed the little details. My head was usually down, eyes focused on the cracks in the pavement. With Lena, I was forced to look up.
She pointed out a dog wearing a tiny knitted sweater, and a house with a mailbox shaped like a spaceship. We walked past a park where other kids were still playing, their laughter a cheerful, distant sound.
"My house is just up ahead," she said, practically skipping. "You can see the treehouse from here."
And there it was. Perched like a fortress on the far side of the yard, the treehouse's wooden slats caught the late afternoon sun. It was taller and sturdier than I imagined, and my nerves did a little flip-flop in my stomach.
My parents didn't blink when I asked. Dad muttered something about "just be home before Sunday," and Mom didn't even look up from her laptop.
Permission granted. Barely acknowledged.
Lena's house looked like something from a movie. A two-story modern home with tall windows and a front yard that wasn't dying like mine. The grass was the kind that looked soft even from a distance. Flower pots lined the porch, and wind chimes tinkled lazily in the breeze.
Inside, it was even warmer. Sunlight spilled through wide windows, catching the edges of bookshelves and paintings. The air smelled like cinnamon and something floral.
⟡ ✧ ⟡
"Hi, Ash!" said a voice, and a man walked into the foyer with a spatula in one hand. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in jeans and a soft-looking sweater, Nate Carter smiled with his whole face.
He laughed gently and ruffled my hair. "You hungry? I made banana bread. Don't worry, it's not the healthy kind."
Lena led me to her room like she was royalty giving a grand tour. "This is my kingdom."
The walls were painted a pale lavender, dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars and paper hearts taped to the ceiling. A shelf overflowed with stuffed animals, a bean bag slumped in the corner like a sleeping dragon, and crayons were scattered across a small table by the window.
I stepped inside like I was walking into a secret world.
"You can sit anywhere," she said, flopping onto the bean bag. "Unless Mr. Bubbles is in the way. He's very dramatic."
I looked at the giant stuffed octopus and smiled before sitting cross-legged on the floor. It was messy, but the kind of messy that felt alive.
After a snack (banana bread that made me seriously consider asking to live there forever), Lena grabbed my hand. "Come on! I want to show you something."
We crossed the backyard, the sun slanting golden across the grass. At the far end stood the treehouse, perched high between two sturdy branches, with a ladder that creaked slightly under our feet.
"Welcome to the Secret Fortress of Queen Lena Carter," Lena announced, unlocking a padlock with a dramatic flourish. "Password?" she asked, blocking the entrance.
I blinked. "Uh… Sir Ash of the Sad Eyes?"
She stared, then burst out laughing. "Perfect! You may enter."
Inside, the treehouse was a dream: fairy lights twinkled around the beams, mismatched pillows lined the walls, and a little battery-powered fan spun lazily overhead. An old walkie-talkie set lay between two blankets like relics from a past adventure.
We played for hours. Pirates, astronauts, monster hunters. At some point, Lena handed me a paper crown she'd made from an old drawing.
"All hail the Sad-Eyed Knight," she proclaimed, placing it on my head. And thus I became the official knight of Queen Lena.
Eventually, we lay back, side by side, watching the sky through the window.
"That cloud looks like a bunny eating spaghetti," Lena said.
I squinted. "...More like a spaceship crashing into a pillow."
"Oooh, you're poetic. I like that."
Later, when the sun dipped low and the backyard filled with firefly glimmers, we were called in for dinner.
"Can Ash stay over?" Lena asked her dad with wide eyes.
Nate looked at me. "You okay with that, champ?"
I called my parents. They barely asked where I was. My mom said, " As long as you're okay being away from home."
The phone clicked before I could reply.