Not his Treehouse

Chapter 1

  I found comfort in staring at the old oak that stayed so familiar throughout the years. I rolled over onto my stomach to check the time on my phone, the carpet itchy and feeling a bit coarse. Time for a new one I suppose. I was stupid for not laying on the mattress anyways. The treehouse was basically a tiny home, I had furnished it with a rug, mattresses, a beanbag chair, a mini fridge, basically everything but a bathroom. I promised myself if I ever installed a bathroom I would move in. But the exterior stays the same as when my dad had built it about eleven years ago. 

   I had begged him for my own space, so that's what he gave me. My own treehouse in the woods behind my house. The last thing he would ever give me. Well I guess I can't give my dad all the credit. Trace's dad had helped out a bit during the building process so that we could share the treehouse, but Trace stopped coming when we turned fourteen and his dad passed.  

   I stood up, shaking my head. No need to relive the past at 3:15 in the afternoon. I switched out my slippers for my shoes, and climbed down the ladder to take the short walk back home. I picked up the pace, I didn't want to be late picking up my little sister Harper from daycare. The fall leaves crunched under my feet, the thought that it was starting to get colder made me pull my sweatshirt around my body tighter. Michigan winters weren't for the weak. 

   I swiped my keys off the kitchen counter, and walked out to the driveway. It was a short drive to the daycare which was within a block of my high school. With only one semester left, even looking at the high school shot nerves throughout my body.

  "Hey Harp," I said, scooping up the little three year old to buckle her into her carseat. 

""Charlotte." was all she said. I laughed at her lack of words, lately she had been obsessed with only saying my name. 

"Mom?" she asked. I shook my head no. 

"No mom today Harp only me. She's working tonight." Our mom often worked the night shift, leaving me to pick up Harper and get her to bed. Unless she was at her dad's house, which meant I was often home alone. We had different dad's, and her's decided to stick around. In fact I would be home alone tonight, I had the responsibility of dropping her off at her dad's. I didn't mind though, he was a good dad, and it was nice to see him we had a good relationship. He lived more out in the country with his wife and baby, so it took a little while longer to get there. 

  Quickly enough I pulled into their gravel driveway, and he came outside to get her out of her carseat. 

"Hey John," I said. 

"Hey kiddo thanks for bringing her," he said, scooping up Harper and tossing her in the air. I smiled, my dad used to do that to me. 

  "Anytime I don't mind," I said. He closed her door and I rolled down my window to say bye. 

"If your moms working tonight, do you want to stay for dinner, Susan made lasagna?"he asked me. That actually sounded really good, I wouldn't have to heat up leftovers. 

"You know what I would thank you!" I told him with a smile. I turned off my car, and he led the way inside. He handed my Harper so he would set the table, and Susan his wife and I caught up a bit. I didn't really see her a lot sometimes it felt like a betrayal to my mom, but she was always welcoming. 

"How's school going Charlotte?" John asked me. 

"It's really good, I'm on track to graduate on time now." I slacked a bit at the beginning of high school, and fell behind, but I worked my butt off to catch up. 

I looked out the window to see somebody I was able to instantly recognize. Tall, dark hair, green eyes, black jeans, white t-shirt. Why the fuck was Trace at my sisters dad's house.