“Bryce, come on! You won’t believe the colors! It’s absolutely magnificent! Bryce, you’ve got to come up here!”
Yeah, I could just hear it: “Bryce and Juli sitting in a tree… ”
Was I ever going to leave the second grade behind?
One morning I was specifically not looking up when out of nowhere she swings down from a branch and practically knocks me over.
Heart attack! I dropped my backpack and wrenched my neck, and that did it.
I refused to wait under that tree with that maniac monkey on the loose anymore.
I started leaving the house at the very last minute.
I made up my own waiting spot, and when I’d see the bus pull up, I’d truck up the hill and get on board.
No Juli, no problem. And that, my friend, took care of the rest of seventh grade and almost all of eighth, too, until one day a few months ago.
That’s when I heard a commotion up the hill and could see some big trucks parked up on Collier Street where the bus pulls in.
There were some men shouting stuff up at Juli, who was, of course, five stories up in the tree.
All the other kids started to gather under the tree, too, and I could hear them telling her she had to come down.
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