Forbidden Someday - 2025

I hang upside down on the park’s swing set. Gravity pulls down my oversized hoodie, leaving my midriff out for the calm fall wind to brush against before the midday sun heats it again. Blood rushes to my head as my arms swing limply beside me, growing more numb by the second. Dead leaves rustle by, carrying the rain’s earthy, musty scent.

Other sensations rush towards me as I close my eyes. Gasoline and exhaust from passing cars mingle with the crisp scent of freshly cut grass. Rainwater trickles down gutters, dripping into the drains. A car honks at a couple as they jaywalk across the street to Movie Matinee. Their laughter rings out as they dodge the rush of traffic, warm wafts of popcorn drifting out the opening theater doors.

A crunch of gravel gets the most attention as someone walks my way, the sharp sound pulling me from my trance.

A gust of wind brings another familiar scent: vanilla spice cologne. There’s only one person I know who wears that. My eyes snap open.

Carter, the most gorgeous man to ever roam the earth, walks across the playground. His short, brown hair frames a face that seems sculpted by higher beings. His lips look irresistibly soft, and his body exudes the strength of a Roman Emperor. My heart races as his green eyes catch the sunlight and notice me for the first time.

Carter Stone walks to me, feet crunching on the gravel. “Hey Daren.”

I grab the rusted bar above me and pull up. My legs fall past me in a sort of split before I let go, dropping to the ground. I turn around to face the marble statue that broke Creation’s mold. “What’s up, Carter?”

“You, a second ago. “His smile is breathtaking and distracts me as he takes the swing next to me. I don‘t think he notices that the seat is damp as he leans into it, rocking back and forth. “I’ve been trying to call, but you never answered.”

“You have?” I pull out my phone, first spotting the background image of us wrestling in his living room. His mom took it a few years ago when I’d been having a sleepover. The notification box at the bottom of the screen says I’ve missed several calls and texts from him. I turn up the volume and stuff it back in my pocket.

“Yeah. Somehow I knew you’d be here. “He kicks a little more, starting up a decent swing.

“I am always here, huh?” I say. I take the dry swing next to him, happy to finally spend some alone time with my best friend. No sports games, no getting ready for the school musical, just me and him. Together again. I push harder than he does, getting a good rhythm started.

“I didn’t see you at school. Have you been here all day?” he asks. I shrug, knowing full well that I’ve been here since dawn. I had another nightmare and needed to get out of the house. I figured the park would be empty, giving me plenty of space to let loose. Suffice it to say going to school didn‘t seem as fun as being alone for a few hours. “Still coming to the game Friday?”

“Yeah, shouldn’t you be getting ready for that?” I ask, gaining a few inches in height on him. Carter is the quarterback of the Midtown Sharks - our high school football team. He’s the youngest member ever nominated as team captain because he received it as a Sophomore last year. My swing creaks above me, reminding me it’s old and could break any minute. “Isn’t there, like, I don’t know, practice?”

“Not ’til later.” He shakes his head, catching up to my speed. “And you still haven’t answered.”

“Of course I’m going, Carter,” I say, leaning back. “I always go to your games.”

The sun warms my skin as the wind breezes through my long brown hair. I close my eyes, listening to everything around me. Ignoring the creak of my swing, I take note of the ice cream truck turning the far corner out of the park, the high-pitched tune getting swept away in the organized honks and rumbles of traveling cars on the main road. Kids roll by on skateboards, their wheels bumping on each crack as they argue about who can go faster. A new sound enters the playing field as I realize that Carter has started swinging harder. Each kick of his legs causes a strain on the old, rusted chains, making for a rhythmic squeak.

I smile, looking over. The sun beats down on him, causing his calm demeanor to glow that much more. The back of his shirt lifts with every ascend, giving the slightest glimpse of the smooth, unblemished skin beneath. His amazingly toned muscles bulge with every descent, begging to be strength tested. I’ve stopped swinging completely, just watching him go back and forth. He notices, looking over. “What?”

I quickly shake my head, continuing to swing. “Nothing.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He smiles that darn cute smile. I laugh, catching up to his speed. “So? How about it?”

“How about what?” I kick my legs out, not really paying attention. He’s got this hypnotic hold over me that I can’t really control. I’ve had this crush on him since I don’t know when, and it’s killing me inside because I know he will never like me the same way. I want him to be more than my best friend. But how do I tell him something like that without ruining everything? It’d crumble my world if he said no. The only thing that could possibly be worse would be if he actually liked me back.

“Were you even listening?” he laughs.

I shake my head, staying honest. “Not really.”

He sighs. “I asked if anyone had invited you to Sadie Hawkins yet.”

I look at him like he’s nuts. “Why on earth would any girl ask me to Sadie Hawkins?” The slight turn forces my swing to turn with me, but I compensate and readjust.

“Because you’re a catch?” he laughs. “And I didn’t just mean girls.”

I snicker, letting go of the chains to hold my stomach. I almost fall out of the swing. Carter looks at me confused, so I giggle. “Now that’s a compliment. Coming from you.”

He noticeably slows down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I scoff. “Never mind.” I shrug it off, picking up my lost pace. Carter hesitates but catches up to me. Gaining a few inches on him, he figures out what I’m doing. He smirks, getting the tiniest bit higher than me; game on.

We each push as hard as we can, going higher and higher until I lift from my seat and the chains on his swing start to turn. I give him an evil look, knowing how I can win. As he struggles to get control over his swing, I fly forward.

I let go of the chains, the seat falling away from me. The ground approaches fast as I lean into my shoulder. Just before colliding with the gravel, I roll forward, popping onto my feet with a little jump. I smile wide at the good landing.

Brushing a hand through my long brown hair, I hear the scuff of his shoes. Carter’s eyes bug out of his skull as he struggles to stop the swing. Running to me, he grabs my arms, holding them out and looking me over. “Oh my gosh, are you okay? What happened?”

“I jumped.” I laugh, tugging my arms from his hold before he can pull up my sleeves.

“You what!” he shouts, letting my arms fall. A few kids look over, unsure if we’re starting a fight or just messing around. I wave at them, and they go back to their own business.

“Ouch.” I mutter, dropping my foot on a sharp rock. I realize that my shoe apparently fell off at some point. I reach for it, giggling. “Looks like I win.” I balance my sock-only foot on the top of my left as I undo the laces for my right shoe.

“Are you insane!” He grabs my shoulders. “You could have gotten hurt or-”

“I didn’t.” I smile, bending over, shoe untied.

“But you could have.” He bends down to see my face. He takes my chin, making me blush, as he lifts my face up to him, continuing to look me over, making it difficult to put my shoe back on.

I insist, pointing my finger at him. “But I didn’t.” I take a step back to release my face from his hold. I shove my foot in the shoe and use my knee as a surface as I wobble for balance, tying the laces.

He shakes his head, astonished. “You’re nuts.”

“I prefer bananas.” I laugh, placing my foot on the ground. Wiggling my toes, I stretch my tennis shoes’ gray, faded fabric.

“Never do that again,” he says.

I smirk, looking into the abyss of his eyes. “Or what?”

“You want to find out?” he laughs, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me close. I get a lilt in my chest, my skin heating from the closeness. Until he lifts me. His bony shoulder digs into my chest. I look down at the ground beneath me, my legs and arms squirming to find something to hold onto. His arm wraps around my knees, and my hands grab his waistband, keeping me from tipping over.

I groan. “Okay, okay, I get it. I won’t do it again!”

“Good.” He laughs, setting me down. I take a step back and punch his shoulder, adjusting my hoodie. He laughs harder.

“You’re mean.” I glare, crossing my arms.

“No, I’m bigger.” He taunts me, rubbing the top of my hair.

I swat at his hand as he walks away. “It’s the same thing.” I follow him as we walk to the jungle gym. Bigger doesn’t just mean in size; he’s older, too. He’s seventeen, and I’m the lowly fifteen-year-old who skipped a grade to hang out together. Man is that a story and a half.

See, Carter has been my best friend since before I was born. The first picture he has of me is my sonogram when he was about to turn two. He was even at the hospital the day I was born, though he was, like, a toddler, so he hardly remembers it. Our moms grew up together, and we followed their example. Not that I had much of a choice. It’s hard not to be friends with the coolest guy in existence.

We practically grew up as brothers; birthdays, holidays, family vacations. When Carter was about to graduate from fifth grade and go to middle school, leaving me in stupid elementary, we found out we wouldn’t see each other daily. It almost killed us. That summer, Carter spent the whole time tutoring me so I could test out of all my classes and move up to sixth grade with him. Even when he was supposed to go off to baseball camp. My eleven-year-old self spent the three-hour car ride to Tennessee stuffed in his smelly gym bag on the car seat beside him, silently going over my time’s tables with a glow-in-the-dark calculator, desperately trying not to pee my pants. We’d made the whole trip before anyone found out.

Our parents weren’t too happy, especially my dad. But he knew I was still torn about losing Mom, so he said I could stay at camp with Carter so I wouldn’t be alone, and he could drink the summer away. I learned nothing about baseball but was ready for the tests when school finally rolled around.

Carter sits on the bottom rung of the jungle gym while I climb to the top and hang upside down again. “Don’t you get dizzy doing that?” he asks, not looking at me. He doesn’t have to. I realized long ago that the guy has a psychic third eye for knowing what I’m doing. That, or I’m just predictable.

“Nah.” I shrug, staring at the back of his head. I swing ever so slightly, getting the familiar numb feeling in my upper half. “Think you guys’ll win the championship?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. We still have to win this week’s game. And then the rest of the bracket. Then Regionals, then State, then we go to the Championship in December. And yeah, I mean, we always win.” He smirks, leaning back to look at me. “We’re the-”

"Undefeated Midtown Sharks!" we shout together.

“Yeah,” he says,” Especially now that I’m the quarterback.”

“Modest much?” I scoff sarcastically. Carter doesn’t have to be modest. Some people thank the coach, others thank the team, but with Carter as Captain, our school has hit records in a bunch of stuff I still don’t understand. Carter is named MVP at almost every game unless one of his teammates does a miracle play. And he needs to do well because he’s planning to ride his fame into a full-ride scholarship to college.

“Can’t afford to be modest.” He shrugs. “If I don’t believe I’m good enough, neither will the team.”

“Makes sense,” I say. The dizzy feeling spreads to my head. I’m not used to hanging upside down with my eyes open, so I close them.

“Kenzie is throwing a party after the game on friday,” he says.

I nod my head, knowing it’s the typical thing to do at our school. There seems to be some new party going on every weekend. Though, I’ve never actually been to one. “You going?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I guess I’ll go if we win. I’ll actually have to go if we win or else the guys will tease me about it and that might seep into practices…Anyway…I need someone to go with.”

“Um, why don’t you take Kenzie? She’s your girlfriend. “It’s the typical high school relationship; the football quarterback dates the head cheerleader. I don’t think it helps the stereotype that she’s blonde (even if it’s from a bottle) and he’s buff. And hot.

“Didn’t I tell you?” he asks,” We broke up.”

“Oh.” This sort of thing happens all the time. He’s dated almost every female team captain, star player, or cheerleader our school has. Even non-sports teams. But it hardly ever lasts more than a month. He and Kenzie are on again, off again, though. She approaches him between breakups and encourages him to try with another girl. But she has to pick the girl, or else she gets huffy with him, and then he’s stressed out, and it becomes a thing. So he’s either dating her or someone she wants him to try for status. “So…who are you dating now?”

“No one,” he says. He adds in a whisper that I almost miss. “Yet.” My eyes snap open, watching him shake his head, turning to lean on the bar so we face each other. “I have a feeling this year is going to be the best one yet.”

“And why’s that?” I swing forward and back, letting my arms hang down below me.

“Well...” He rubs his hand through his hair. He does it when he’s nervous. “It’s a secret.”

“Come on.” I place my hands together. “Please tell me? Please, please, please?” I don’t care, but I know it takes a lot of begging to make the guy do anything. He’s one hundred percent a people pleaser, and if he thinks someone doesn’t want to know, he’ll keep his mouth shut. He hesitates, and I get the feeling what he wants to tell me is serious. I reach my left hand to the bar and tilt my head to look at him right side up. “Carter?”

“If you really want to know, we’ll have to meet at The Tree.”

The Tree is our secret spot, our fortress of solitude. It sits at the end of a path we made in the middle of the forest next to the park. We only go when one of us is in grave danger, or there is a super top-secret secret to be told. Nine times out of ten, it’s the latter. I quickly flip to stand on the ground. “Are you okay? Is it serious? Should I be worried?”

“No - I mean yes - I mean, would you just-” he grabs my arm and pulls me closer to the bar so I can climb through as I laugh at his nervousness. He gives me one last look, and I can tell he’s considering backing out. It must be serious. The typical things discussed at The Tree usually involve our biggest fears, guilty pleasures, or The Incident That Shall Never Be Spoken Of. That’s why I’m so nervous, and I’m not even the one spilling my guts.

Making up his mind, he turns without a word and walks towards our secret path. I shrug and follow close behind. As we get closer to the forest, the ground becomes squishier with mud. The gravel starts to show through the grass less and less, replaced by odd-colored pebbles. I trip as we step onto the path, scuffing up dirt.

The first marker on our path is a tree with a spray-painted ‘X.’ It had been scheduled for removal some years ago when the town planned on putting a mall where the park is. Most people were against the idea, and our moms led the charge for a protest to keep the park. Carter taps it twice for good luck. I approach it two steps behind, doing the same. ‘Anything can stand the test of time if we fight hard enough.’ It’s something my mom would say.

We walk a little further, turning when we get to the Bear Claw Bush. When we were younger, we played hide and seek, and Carter fell out of a tree into the bush. He’d been so embarrassed about his scrapes that when we went to school the next day, he told everyone that a bear attacked him. The sad thing is that everyone believed him.

Carter’s hips sway slightly with the uneven ground. As spotty sun rays pass over him, it reminds me of a music video my mom did back in the day. Several small, moving spotlights would shine down on her as she belted out those beautiful notes that earned her fame and spread her name worldwide.

We step over a log barrier, and the forest gets darker. The tall trees block out the sun with green leaves. Multicolored, dying orange ones peek through the canopy, reminding me that Halloween is coming. A shiver runs down my spine as the wind blows harder. Colder, without the sun to heat us up again. I hear a twig snap and jump. “Hey, you’re not secretly a serial killer, are you?” I ask, stepping over a huge rock. “Because that’s the vibe I always get whenever we come out here.”

“Dude…shut up.” He laughs, walking around the boulder resembling Abe Lincoln’s head. “And stay on the path. I don’t need you getting poison ivy.”

“There’s no poison ivy out here,” I say,” Only poison oak.”

“Same difference.”

I scoff. “Um, big difference. Ivy is a vine and Oak is a plant.”

“Oh,” he says sarcastically,” Excuse me.”

“You’re excused.” I hold my hand out to step over a large rock as we pass Beer Keg Cave, where Carter and I first tried beer. I’d stolen one from my dad - the admitted alcoholic - and brought it here, where we got tipsy after two sips back in the seventh grade. “Can you tell me what this is all about already?”

“What’s rule number four of our bro code?” he asks without answering.

I say, repeating our made-up rules,” Don’t ask until we’re at The Tree.”

“And what did you just do?” he asks.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

The forest gets sunnier and shinier as I catch up to him at the clearing over Minnow Creek. That’s its real name, given by the town. Apparently, some teenager got killed out here by a druggie with a knife, and the police had to map the whole place out. We never come out here alone.

Carter hesitates before the narrow, unsteady log we use to cross the creek. I roll my eyes, edging before him. “Come on, hot shot. You’re the one who wanted to come out here. Why is that, by the way?”

“Seriously? You just broke rule number four twice in less than a minute.”

I say,” A new record- maybe I’ll break as many as you someday,” before stepping onto the log and walking across like it’s nothing. Because, to me, it is. I shove my hands in my pockets and spin around to face Carter, knowing my balance will tick him off. “You coming or what?” I spin back around, hearing him sigh, before wobbly following behind. I can’t help but smile.

It’s my turn to slow down as we reach the last landmark. Carter and I made it the week after my mom died when I was ten. We got a video cassette of her favorite movie - Gone With the Wind - and unraveled the tape. We’d decorated a cherry bush with the homemade streamers and placed a small wood carving in front of it that Carter made after he took shop in ninth grade. It says,” Terra Nova: Singer, Actress, Mother. “I take a deep breath and walk past it.

Just after she passed away, I changed my name. I’d already been a child actor and model, so I’d been used to people wanting interviews. But when she died, the interviews became about her death, and I didn’t want any part of it. It took its toll on my dad and me, so I changed my last name to his, started going by my nickname, and moved into a new house. I was born Daredevil Nova. Now, I go by Daren Harris. I can’t imagine it would be too difficult for people to find us with the changes, but they respected our privacy and left us alone.

Finally, we reach our hideaway. A large tree sits in the middle of a small clearing next to a boy-made water hole. After a year at survival camp - at which I broke a record for ‘dying’ the most times in one day - we learned how to make a canopy and step ladder so we could get to a platform we made. The giant tree house is stockpiled with expired canned food, two sleeping bags, and a rusted can opener. It’s our little tree house where we can be anything, say anything, and do anything we want without judgment. We kept going back and forth between naming it ‘Caron’ or ‘Darter.’ We ultimately decided on ‘The Tree.’

“So?” I ask, turning to face him. “We’re here. Now, will you tell me?” He takes my arms and leads me to the secret-telling spot, a dirt patch against The Tree where grass doesn‘t seem to grow. I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. “I, Daredevil Nova, hereby promise to make no judgments or hateful remarks about your secrets.”

He takes a deep breath. “And I, Carter Topps, hereby promise to tell the truth and not blow what I’m saying out of proportion.”

I sigh, letting my arms down. We smack the palms of our hands and the back of our hands, snap twice, and hit our chests twice before placing our right hands on The Tree. I don’t turn around as I let my arm fall to my side, putting it on the bark behind me. Carter leans in, inches from me, placing his hand on The Three next to my face. He doesn’t back away.

He takes up my entire field of vision. Nothing but perfection stands before me, and I can’t help but swoon at how close he is. I have to breathe through my mouth so as not to smell his body spray of vanilla spice that happens to be doing a good job of turning me on. I clear my throat, edging back a half step only to bump into The Three. My face is heating up, so I look to the ground.

I fiddle with my sweater hem, giving my hands something to do; he is making this difficult. “I have a crush,” he says.

My heart tears to shreds. Carter usually brings me here for this, even if The Tree isn’t supposed to be used like that. It’s happened three times over the past five weeks, and it’s starting to get on my nerves. So what if he’s got a crush on some girl? He’s always got a crush on some girl. Still, the bro code states that I can’t judge or make hateful remarks. I sigh. “Yeah? Who is she?”

“Um…well.” He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s complicated.”

“What is it this time?” I say with a little too much annoyance than I mean to have. I clear my head, trying to focus. “Does she like you back?”

“I don’t know,” he says,” It’s hard to tell. We know each other really well. Like really, really well, but if they don’t like me back then…I don’t know what I’d do. I really like…this person.”

“Well.” I shrug, having heard all this before from the past three secret crushes. They‘ve all started out with, ‘I‘m really good friends with this person,’ ‘we don‘t spend as much time together as we used to,’ ‘they’re super hot but don‘t seem to see it like I do - I don‘t know if they‘re ready for a relationship yet.’ Yet all three girls he’s named have been the complete opposite of his description. I roll my eyes. “Obviously there’s no rule saying you have to take my advice, but I’d say to just tell her. Any girl would be lucky to have you. I mean, in case you forgot, you’re kind of the most popular guy in school.”

“Right, but…I really don’t want to ruin what I’ve got with this person.”

“I told you what I think. Four times, in fact. If you want her, go get her.”

“You’re sure?” he asks.

I nod my head, crossing my arms again. I look to the ground, not wanting to see his beautiful eyes, when he crushes my heart, telling me it’s another cheerleader. I ask,” So, who is it anyway?” At the exact same time, he says,” I like you.”

I look up, not entirely sure I’d heard right. Carter gives me that darn cute smile, and I smile back, catching on. “Yeah, I like you, too. Cause you’re my best friend. So, come on, you can tell me. Who is it?”

“No- I mean-” he stammers, smile fading. He looks down to the ground, still not backing away. I stay patient. The longer he takes, the more I realize that this is very serious to him. Our biggest secrets are the hardest to tell; I should know that better than anyone. I start to wonder if this girl has a mental issue or something, and that’s why he won’t date her. I don’t mean like she’s slow - Carter is sweet not to care about things like that. No, I mean if she’s crazy or a womanizer - but for boys.

I watch as his hand turns into a fist by my face. I bite my lip; if there is one absolute truth about Carter, it’s that when he gets frustrated, he might as well be mad because he tends to punch stuff. Not really wanting to be in the way when that happens, I lift my hand to touch his and say,” It’s okay, just take your time and-”

He interrupts by kissing me.