Wednesday, June 14th, 2017:

Remember that rule we made about Wednesdays during the summer? That we couldn't leave the treehouse until sundown. Today, I decided to honor our tradition. I was in the treehouse since the moment I got up until sundown. I sat in there all day, admiring all our hard work. 

I remember how you liked to carve words into the walls. Your most famous quotes are the only ones we haven't crossed out with my art designs. I found myself admiring your most common phrase - "Never settle down." I remember the day you carved that one in. 

It was a humid Wednesday in June 2010. The day before, you struck out in your little league team. You classified yourself as a disappointment to the entire team, and walked off screaming you quit.

So, the next day, you marched right up to the treehouse after getting up and took your carving rock to the ceiling of the treehouse and carved in your sloppy penmanship "Never settle down." You then looked down at me and said, "If you settle down, you're allowing yourself to shut out from the other wonders of life. That's why I'm leaving this sleepy town when I graduate." 

Think you were being facetious, I replied, "Yeah, sure. So am I." 

But here I am, wishing you were here on Wednesday. All alone. But then an unexpected visitor decided to join me today in the treehouse. My sister. She came up all the way from down on the surface to be with me. 

She laid next to me on the floor of the treehouse, staring up at the ceiling like I've been doing for the past three days. "I see why you wanna save this treehouse." 

"If he could've shrunk anything down and stuck it in his pocket for safekeeping, it would've been this place," I told her. She sat up and read the notes I'd written you so far. I took my craziness into my mind and laughed with each cheesy joke of mine Vanessa read off. Then Vanessa went onto the third note and my heart stopped. I hadn't written you on Saturday, so there only supposed to be two notes pinned up on the wall.

"Did you write this one?" Vanessa asked me, taking the note off the wall and laying back down next to me. I looked over her shoulder at the note written in poor handwriting, much like yours, Ross Lynch. I shook my head and she went onto read it. "Headstrong Marano. X  Shor." With a shoulder nudge, Vanessa asked me, "Did your boyfriend write you a goodbye note?"

I explained to her how you and I are only friends. How only one friendly peck on the lips in the middle of the soccer field in fifth grade didn't suffice enough to make us boyfriend and girlfriend. And I told her how if you were here, you'd be saying the same thing. You feel the same way, right? 

"He's come back," I exclaimed after I realized the gravity of what I just read. You've come back. I told Vanessa to bring the note down to the police station. Maybe they can help me get you back. I know reaching out to them is a bit of a drastic measure, but what other choice do I have? When Vanessa left, I looked up at your carving on the ceiling and said, "You've come back." 

Where are you Ross Lynch?

- Laura S. Marano