The Promise

“Look at her,” I said to Steve, as we sat on our usual bench on the basketball court, unwrapping our sandwiches. “Megan is sitting all by herself.”

I glanced across at Gabrielle and her sickeningly fashionable entourage. They were watching Megan, and giggling.

“Why do they have to be so mean?” I said aloud. “Gabrielle was the one who treated her badly. Now, she and her friends are making fun of Megan.”

Suddenly, my devastating heartbreak over Gabrielle turned to rage, and before I had a chance to think about what I was doing, I set down my sandwich and walked straight over to where Megan was sitting, eating her lunch alone.

I sat down beside her. “Hey. Do you want to come and eat lunch with me and Steve?”

She barely looked up. “Sure.”

Gathering up her sandwich, she stood and crossed the basketball court with me. I couldn’t help but glance back at Gabrielle and the other girls, who were watching us, with frowns on their faces.

They turned away after that, left the basketball court, and stopped giggling at Megan.

After that day, Megan ate lunch with us every day for the rest of the school year. The three of us became inseparable.

In a few weeks, we forgot about our broken hearts and all those stupid, mean, giggling girls. We just hung out together and had fun. Megan used to come over to my house, or Steve’s house on weekends to play games on the computer and watch movies with us.

After the debacle at Glenn Rackett’s party, I never saw Megan as anything but a friend.

She was really smart, and she talked about interesting things—things Steve and I had never thought about before. Not just girl stuff, she knew things about new technology and medicine because her father was a doctor, and she had a room full of tiny dollhouses she had built. They were detailed and intricate, and she told us she wanted to be an architect when she grew up.

She also built model cars and airplanes, and, under her guidance, Steve and I soon started building spaceships, spaceports, and all these things.

“Look, Megan, it’s ideal! Flat ground, four trees in a neat square – we could easily hammer the planks right onto the trunks.”

Steve, ever the pragmatist, looked at the place and opined, “Hold on a second. On a windy day, if the trees sway, the walls will move and it’ll probably fall apart.”

Megan stepped into the center of the designated area. ““The trunks don’t move in the wind, not this close to the ground. It’s only the treetops that blow around. And these trees are good and solid.” She pounded the edge of her fist on the thick bark. “I think it’s a great spot. I can feel it.”

“But where do we get the wood?” Steve asked.

“I can talk to Dad tonight,” Megan replied. “He might be willing to buy some supplies. Plus, his shed is packed with tools – hammers, nails, the whole works.”

I wasn’t sure about involving adults. “What if your dad forbids it? This isn’t exactly our property, you know. Public land. And the whole point is to have a secret hideout. Once your dad’s in the loop, it’s not much of a secret anymore. Parents just don’t get this stuff. They always say no.”

Megan was sure about her father keeping our secret. “Maybe your parents do, but mine are super supportive. They know I want to be an architect someday, and anything that involves building gets their enthusiastic go-ahead. Besides, do you have any other ideas about how we can get the wood?”

Steve shrugged, and I conceded with a sigh. “All right, let’s talk to your dad. We are going to need tools, anyway. There’s no way we can keep this a secret if we’re going to do it right. And I think we should do it right.”

“Agreed,” Megan said, a smile spreading across her face. “How about you guys join us for dinner tonight? Mom’s making spaghetti, and we can ask him then.”

“Sounds good,” I replied.

Steve shook his head. “Sorry, guys, I have to pack. We’re going on vacation tomorrow.”

“Just you and me then?” Megan turned to me.

I considered it for a moment. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“Great! Let’s head back, it’s getting close to five.”

We trudged out of the woods together, a comfortable silence settling between us. Megan offered me her hand and I took it. The thing was that I was starting to feel attracted to her. She was smart, easy-going, and beautiful in her own way.

Doctor Harper listened attentively as Megan explained our plan that evening.

“An interesting idea,” he remarked sounding impressed. “There are some logistical hurdles to consider, like carrying the wood and tools across the creek. However, the spot you picked up seems ideal. I think you can do it”

Megan smiled at me, and winked.

“I really like your parents,” I told Megan a week later, as we hammered wooden planks onto the trees, constructing the floor. “Your dad trusts us to do this on our own. My dad would never lend me his tools and let me come out here, unless he was right beside me, telling me exactly how to do it the whole time, and making sure I didn’t hammer a nail through my hand.”

Megan chuckled. “Your dad’s not that bad, though.”

“Yeah, he’s all right,” I conceded. “He has more in common with Oscar­.”

With only the two of us, it was no easy task to haul the wood across the creek, but Megan and I were a good team. We complemented each other’s strengths, and soon, the wood lay stacked near the site.

Doctor Harper had only given us enough material to complete the floor. He promised to get more wood for us if we worked together over the summer, doing odd jobs around his house.