The Treehouse Society

June 16th, Summer Time

   It was perfect. 

  I stood in our new back yard, gawking at the huge oak tree and the magnificent palace that was constructed in the lowest limbs. And when I said palace, I meant it.

  It was like having an actual full sized house in a tree, not just a dinky flat that forced you inside when it rained. I grinned, pulling on my moms sleeve. "This one."

  Mom and Dad looked at each other, soft smiles on their faces. My parents were totally in love, no doubt about that. "Let's look inside, Sophie," Dad suggested, and he barely got my name out of his mouth when I took off running.

  One think that I noticed most about it was that there were stairs- actual, solid, wooden stairs- instead of a ladder. I liked that, seeing as I had bad balance anyways, and I would have ended up falling. There was an actual door too, made of dark wood with no window but a peep hole. I grinned at the thought of privacy.

  The door opened without a fuss, no squeaking, no sticking. I gasped.

  It was just a wide open space, and around the trunk of the tree was a spiral stair case that led up to a flat, just big enough for a bed. "I could sleep in here!" I exclaimed, just as my parents made it inside. Mom let out a low whistle. "Wow, this is impressive."

  I nodded eagerly. "I love it. Please get this house, please please!" I fell at my parents feet, my hands clasped tightly. "Momma, please!" Tears came to my eyes, and I was prepared to run and cling to the  branches of the flat. Dad shook his head with a hearty laugh. "I suppose since the angel wants it so bad, we just have to get it, right Isabel?" Dad asked, wrapping one arm around moms shoulder. I nodded again, staying quiet.

   Mom shook her head. "Well sweetie. Is a tree house really going to seal the deal?" a half smile clung to her face. Dad ruffled my board straight golden hair

  Moms golden hair.

  "Let an eight year old kid have a few years of imagination."

  I bounced in place, whimpering.

  Mom smiled. "I'm not sure, Tom.." She looked down at me. I used my puppy dog face, knowing she couldn't resist my big hazel eyes.

   Dads hazel eyes.

  She laughed and scooped me up.

   "We'll go to the bank first thing in the morning." 

  I never cried so hard in my life.

August 20th, 7th grade

  I ran, tears streaming down my face, to my treehouse. I slammed the door, ignoring my moms calls for me to come talk to her. I didn't want to talk. I just wanted to die. 

Today had been my first day of junior high- I was a seventh grader now. Being the new kid two years ago hadn't been too bad- I made a few friends, and that was all I needed.

  But this year, those few friends apparently forgot who I was. 

  I walked up to Claire today, expecting a hug and to talk about how her summer was. But I could tell, even from a distance, that she had changed over the summer. Her once limp lifeless brown hair had been highlighted and had some volume. She'd discovered makeup, and was wearing some mascara and a little bit of black liner. Her olive green eyes popped on her too-tan skin. She'd gotten a new wardrobe too, according to the heeled boots she could barely walk in.