Chapter Text
Vivid cracks of blue broke through the rustling leaves of the canopy. Rey sniffed and swayed her feet from the long fallen tree. She stared at her toes. The tips of them were opaque from dirt. She had raced here barefoot. Rey closed her eyes and listened to the hot summer air hitting the leaves. The forest was quiet. Rey liked that. Her home was so loud.
She had been upstairs when she heard them all shouting. She padded down the stairs and saw her siblings at the worn kitchen table with skinny white sticks poking out their cat-like grins. Rey cried out. They had found her secret lollipop stash. They all laughed as her foster brother Doug jutted out a cherry-red tongue. Tears blurred her vision. It had taken her months to stash away that many lollipops.
Jake called her a crybaby. They always picked on her for crying, but she couldn’t help it. Rey would stop the tears if she could, but she can’t stop them once they start, and it only makes it worse to try. Rey’s face turned red, and a little snot dribbled out of her nose and down her upper lip.
She ran, hearing the loud sound of laughter as she bolted out the back screen door. It slammed shut, and her feet didn't stop. They didn't stop when she reached the woods that lined their backyard. She didn't stop for a long while. Her lungs burned.
That’s how she got here, Swinging her dirty toes off a fallen tree, bark clinging to her faded blue shorts. Rey sniffed again and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“Are you okay?”
Rey’s head whipped up. There, a tall, lanky kid stood hesitantly in the trees. His dark hair was long, and part of it covered his face. He looked around her age, if not a bit older.
“I’m fine,” Rey said. She cringed, scrunching her nose. The tremble in her voice had given her away
The boy didn't say anything if he’d noticed; he just nodded, walking closer and bouncing onto the tree beside her.
Rey gaped at him, but he didn’t look her way. Instead, He gazed up at the canopy. “I come here to espace too.”
Rey paused, studying his face. It was odd but in a nice way. “Escape what?”
He looked at her, and his eyes were a warm brown. “My parents.”
Rey looked away, embarrassed for staring. “Are they mean?”
He shook his head. “Only to each other.”
They sat silently, listening to the birds singing above them and leaves rustling around them.
“I don’t have parents.”
He frowned. “That sucks. Who do you live with then?”
“My foster mom and a bunch of other kids.”
“Do they give you trouble?”
Rey held her left arm and nodded.
He hopped off, his feet making a soft thump on the dirt. Rey watched as he walked over to the base of the large tree their log was leaning against. She squinted. Something had reflected the sun in her eyes. She opened them to see he was holding a metallic red pocket knife beside his beige cargo shorts.
“Woah!” Rey yelped.
The boy snorted and went to work carving something into the bark. Minutes drifted by and then he stepped back, admiring his work, letting Rey glimpse the carving. ‘Fort Runaways’ was messily etched into the side of the tree.
“There, now this is our spot—that way, we both know where to go when we need to escape from my parents or your siblings.”
Rey smiled for the first time in an hour. “What’s your name?”
“Ben.”
Rey rocked on the log. “I’m Rey.” She dug her fingernails into the scratchy bark. “Can we be friends?”
Ben nodded. “Yeah.”
“Promise?” She held out her small, slight pinky tentatively.
Ben flashed a toothy grin and wrapped his pinky around hers. “Promise.”