Colin adjusted the strap of his backpack, the brass compass in his pocket pressing lightly against his palm. His dad’s words still echoed in his head — “Keep moving forward, kid.”

Just past the schoolyard, a tall tree leaned over a narrow creek. At its base stood the frame of a half-finished treehouse — boards nailed unevenly, rope dangling, and a hammer left on the grass as if someone had walked away mid-project.

He stopped to study it. Whoever started it hadn’t finished.

“Hey!” a voice called out.

Colin looked up. Two Girls peeked around the tree. One had a confident grin, arms folded like they owned the place. The other stood a little back, curious but quiet.

“You found our treehouse,” the grinning one said. “Well… almost a treehouse. We kinda gave up.”

Colin’s eyes moved over the loose boards, the shaky ladder, the unfinished floor. His fingers twitched like they always did when he saw something broken. “You just need the right tools,” he said. “I could help finish it.”

The quieter Girl tilted their head. “You… build stuff?”

“My dad’s a mechanic,” Colin replied with a small shrug. “I’ve picked up a few things.”

The two exchanged a glance before stepping forward.

“I’m Stephenie,” said the grinning one, offering a hand.
“And I’m Chloé,” the quieter one added, smiling.

Colin shook their hands. “Colin.”

And just like that, under the shade of the half-built treehouse, a new friendship began.