Max Jenkins was a jerk. Plain and simple. Period. No . . . nix that, exclamation point! They had been friends forever, as they lived deep in the boonies and their family had lived side by side for generations. An old stone wall separated the Jenkins lands from her family's farm, the Francis family. Since early childhood they had been sneaking through the hole in the wall that divided them to play. Countless lazy summer days had been spent together, running through the fields, playing tag and throwing a stick for her dog, Barkus.
Then it happened. Max had kissed her! Right out of the blue! On the lips! There hadn't been any warning, no signs that their relationship had changed. No, "excuse me Samantha, do you mind if I kiss you?"
She had slapped him. Hard. Samantha hadn't really meant it, not really and certainly not as hard as she had managed to do. She had been surprised is all. Max had looked at her, shocked, his mouth wide open. Frightened at what had happened and how she had reacted, Sam had ran through the hole in the wall, her dog chasing her, nipping at her heels as she ran all the way home, crying all of the way.
The next day, after a restless night awake thinking about the unexpected kiss, Sam had decided to return to the hole in the stone wall to try and talk to Max. Barkus had come with, and when they got there, she found him; filthy and exhausted. He had been busy all night, filling in the hole in the wall that divided them with heavy stones. Now there was an impenetrable, thick, stone wall between them. "Come Barkus," Sam whistled, "let's go get a ladder."