Welcome to Welton

Chapter Four

The grass is less green and more crunchy with fall coming soon. I'm not one to complain when sweaters take up over half my wardrobe. I've been looking forward to autumn the moment it left.

The weather isn't bad today, but I still stay hidden. Away from the sunlight and underneath the comfort of an old tree. A tree that Neil and his friends call their own.

Neil is in the lake, pants rolled up in a lousy attempt to keep dry. He's just ahead, Charlie and a few others by his side. They splash and skip rocks and throw sticks at one another. Their laughter is new, but something I can easily get used to.

I flinch when Flora drops, legs wrapped around the tree and face now next to mine. She's smiling upside down, arms crossed and hair hanging inches from the ground.

"Hey." Her airy voice rings out.

She sways back and forth and I toss my book to the side. I hadn't been reading it anyways.

"Hi."

"Wanna come up here? There's tons of room."

I glance to the branches and then back to her, uncertain and a little nervous.

Flora lifts herself all the way before leaping out the tree.

"Come on, I'll show you." She tugs at my wrists, forcing me up.

Now she's grabbing hold of the lowest branch. It doesn't take but a second for her to walk alongside the trunk and hoist herself up. She shakes the bark from her hands and motions me to follow.

"See? Easy peasy."

I'm not sure I have much of a choice. I'm convinced if I don't try myself, she'll pull me up anyways.

I copy her moves, carefully and still very nervously. She moves out the way, climbing to a hire branch and offering her support while spewing words of encouragement. None of her words register, for I'm too focused to really listen.

Before I know it, I'm sat in a tree, legs hanging from the side. Flora is clapping. She sits even higher than the last time I looked. I contemplate before climbing after her.

When I was younger, my brother and older cousins would climb a tree at my grandparents. Any time I'd go near it, they'd shoo me away, insisting it was for the big kids only. The one time I tattled, my father agreed and then sent me on my way.

"Isn't it nice?"

"Yeah."

"You don't talk much, huh?"

I look away, back towards Neil. Then I offer a shrug. "Uh, no. I guess not."

"You're an Anderson?"

I panic.

"D-did Neil say something?"

"So that's a yes? And no, he didn't. But you look so similar."

I don't know what to say, and so I keep quiet.

"Your brother is cute," she chuckles. "You're cuter. Nicer too."

"You've met?"

She laughs again, except more dry. "Eh. He didn't exactly talk to people like me."

"People like you?"

I let my eyes drift back to her. She's got a perfect smile and large curly hair. With blue butterfly clips that match her blue lace top. Flora is the type of pretty you only ever hear about.

"Brown and queer."

"Oh." I'm not sure why I feel guilty.

"Yeah."