As a kid, I’d always been a climber. I’d clamber up into the branches of the massive oak trees that grew around my childhood home, getting as high as I could. Sometimes it would be to hide from my parents, since I was always getting into trouble back then, but mostly I liked the feeling of looking down on the world.

From up high, everything that scared me was so far away. I was untouchable up there, my calloused bare feet balancing me amid the thick foliage. I could hide for hours, sometimes even falling asleep. Although my brother hated when I did that, because he thought I was going to roll out of my perch during a nap and break my neck.

It had been a long time since I’d climbed a tree, but it felt as natural as ever when I pulled myself up into the limbs of the big poplar outside Jessica’s window. It was thick with leaves, shielding me from her sight but leaving her entirely visible to me. She kept her curtains open, sitting at her desk as she filled out the sheet Manson had given her. Her bed was right next to the window, covered in numerous pillows and a couple fluffy stuffed animals.

Did she like toys like that? Fluffy things with big eyes, intentionally designed to be as painfully cute as possible? She’d never struck me as a cutesy girl, but what did I know? There was a lot of pink in her room, soft pastels and delicate glass figurines. She had multiple shelves of trophies and medals — from cheerleading competitions, I guessed.

Could she still do the splits like she could back then? I had avoided football games and anything that put me remotely in the territory of the jocks, but I’d seen her at practice many times. I’d always been secretive about watching her, but I’d had hiding spots all around campus. I’d usually sneak up to the gymnasium roof, have a few cigarettes and watch her flip around the field, shouting directions at the other girls on her team.

We hadn’t gotten along back then either. I’d come to Wickeston as a transfer student, making my second attempt at getting through ninth grade and she’d turned up her nose at me right away. I was used to that, though. My previous school hadn’t been any better. At least in Wickeston, people didn’t know anything about me. They didn’t know about my brother; they hadn’t seen Benji Bent’s name all over the local news.

I wasn’t entirely sure why I was there outside her window in the first place, but I chalked it up to merely curiosity. What made this woman want to make a deal like this with us? Why was she bothering when she had a dozen other choices she could have gone with?