[Tate follows Derek to the point where he pauses, and looks at his face again as if to read whether or not he means it - and it seems he does. He can't help the little jump of elation in his chest at the idea. He's always wanted a tree house, from the days of being little and having to make due with cardboard and Addie's crayons. He smiles, even though he doesn't mean to, evidently overjoyed. But then he realizes maybe that's not the reaction a seventeen year old should be having, and it fades. Briefly.]

I'd - yeah, that'd be cool. I can help, too. It can just be our project? Something to do together, out here. That works too, right?