There are so many odd things in this world. So many, I cant even narrow them down into a list.I'd never even thought about it until that one cold morning, under the old oak tree, where he was waiting for me.
I'd met him in third grade. My teacher had made me sit next to him.
"He's a new kid," she told me, "Show him around."
So I did.
"What is that?" he asked.
I was shocked. Everyone knew what that was. It was the old oak tree by the old forest at the edge of our school.Everyone said it was haunted.
He just nodded when I told him.
"Why is it haunted?" he asked me.
"There was an old cat that got stuck up there. So they called the fire department to come get him down.The fireman fell off his ladder. They buried him right there," I pointed, "under the biggest branch."
Many brave kids had tried to stay there a whole recess by themselves, but none could ever make the whole twenty minutes.
"I bet I could," he muttered.
"But no one can," I argued.
"I bet I can stay a whole night," he looked at me.
"I'd have to see that," I countered.
"Tonight, meet me right here," he pointed at the ground, "At this exact spot. Ten-thirty."
I was scared, but I wasn't about to let him know.
"Fine," I said.

Later that day, I snuck out of my room, down the gutter pipe, and into a bush. Looking back, it wasn't very graceful.
He was where he said he was going to be.
He had a flash light and a bag of potato chips.
"So, you came," he said when I walked up to him.
"I couldn't let you chicken out, could I?"
He shrugged and started over to the old oak.
I just stayed where I was, too afraid to get anywhere near it.
He looked back, "Well, are you coming?"
I looked around me before following close behind him.
We reached the tree, and I was shaking. I was afraid of ghosts, but if I told him that he would surly make fun of me.
I was huddled a few inches behind his back.He reached for the fat branch and pulled himself up. He situated himself then reached down to help me up. I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me right next to him. The bark poked me through my pajama bottoms, but I was more afraid of the fireman ghost.
There was a chill in the air, and I'd forgotten my favorite pink sweatshirt. I shivered, and he looked at me.
"Do I have to stay here ALL night?" I asked him.
He nodded.
I sighed.
"Why aren't you afraid?" I asked him.
"I don't believe in ghosts," he said flatly.
"Why not? They like haunt you. Every kid believes in ghosts."
"Not me," he crossed his arms.
Wow. A third grader who wasn't afraid of ghosts. Now I only needed to see a pig with wings.
I stayed up there with him the whole night.
Around one in the morning, I was dozing on his shoulder. His arm was around my waist so I wouldn't fall off.
I'd never met another boy like him. He was fearless, and he treated me not like I was a girl with cooties, but as someone he'd known his whole life.
I would wake up a few times, afraid of some sound I'd heard or dream I'd had, and he'd say that nothing was wrong, he wouldn't let anything get me.
Finally the morning came. If my parents found out I snuck out, I would be grounded for life.
I waved good-bye, but didn't move from the base of the tree.
"What's wrong?" he asked me.
I shrugged. The truth was, I was starting to like him.
He walked over to me, then took my hand, "I'll walk you home."
I smiled and we walked down the road to my house.
We've been best friends ever since.
He still walks me home everyday, and he's still afraid of nothing.
He's the weirdest guy I've ever met.
I was walking to school, and there he was, sitting under the tree. I walked up to him,"What are you doing? That's where the guys buried," I teased.
"I thought we agreed its not haunted, like, five years ago," he laughed.
I sat down next to him, "So, what'd you need to talk about?"
He looked me in the eye, and said, "I love you."