From Friends to Forever

The Begining

Gemma Parker's knees were scraped, and her palms were covered in dirt, but she didn't care. She was too busy trying to keep up with Jack Callahan, who was already halfway up the giant oak tree in his backyard. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the grass, and the air smelled faintly of wildflowers and damp earth.

"Hurry up, Gem!" Jack called down, dangling one leg off a sturdy branch as if gravity didn't exist. "You're falling behind."

She scowled, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. Her chest heaved as she reached for another branch. "You had a head start!"

"That's what you get for tying your shoelaces so slowly," he teased, swinging his other leg with reckless confidence. Jack was always like this—fearless, impatient, and just a little too proud of his tree-climbing skills. Gemma, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of heights, but she wasn't about to let him know that.

"You think you're so cool, Jack," she grumbled, inching her way up. "One day you're gonna fall and break your leg, and then you'll be sorry."

He laughed, a carefree sound that echoed through the branches. "I won't fall. I'm practically a monkey." To prove it, he let go of the branch with one hand and pretended to swing. Gemma's heart lurched.

"Stop showing off!" she snapped, though her voice was shaky. But there was no way she'd let him see how nervous she felt. She climbed higher, determined to reach him. "If you fall, I'm not helping you."

"Sure, you will." Jack grinned, his brown hair falling into his eyes. "You'd never leave me behind. Not even for a second."

Gemma rolled her eyes, but deep down, she knew he was right. Jack was her best friend, and he always had been. They'd known each other since they were four, and if there was one rule in their friendship, it was simple: they stuck together, no matter what.

After what felt like an eternity, Gemma pulled herself onto the branch beside him. She sat down, legs swinging in the open air. The ground seemed impossibly far away, but up here, it felt like they could see the whole world.

"Told you I'd make it," she said, trying to sound confident.

Jack nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "I never doubted you." He leaned back against the trunk, picking at a leaf. "When we grow up, we're gonna have a treehouse up here. The best one anyone's ever seen."

Gemma tilted her head. "With what? We don't have any money."

"We'll find a way." Jack's eyes sparkled with that familiar, reckless determination. "I'll build it myself if I have to."

She smirked, crossing her arms. "I'd like to see that."

"You'll see." His voice softened. "We'll always be friends, right?"

"Of course," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Even when you're old and can't climb trees anymore."

"Deal." He extended a dirty hand, and she shook it, sealing the promise. It didn't matter that they were eight years old, or that adults always said childhood friendships didn't last. Gemma believed in Jack's promises, even when they were silly.

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves around them. For a moment, they sat in silence, side by side, staring at the horizon. Gemma felt like they could stay here forever, like the world couldn't touch them as long as they were together.

But she didn't know that summers don't last forever, and that growing up was complicated. All she knew was that, for now, they were here—two best friends, high above the ground, dreaming of treehouses and forever.