I blinked back the tears pooling on the edges of my eyelids. The dam hadn’t burst, but a release valve had been turned, letting the churning storm of emotions in my head settle down so I could breathe and think.

Over the fence, his movement broke up the shadow cast around him like he’d become a piece of the garage, still and focused.

My back jerked straight and I stared at the figure watching me in the dark.

Dare.

His form enhanced by his short-sleeved shirt was lit up in the darkened doorway backlit by a single hanging bulb in the garage. Smooth tanned biceps strained against the door jamb. He’d fit right in on whatever college team recruited him. Put him next to a college senior and not many people could tell the difference. From the five o’clock shadow to the piercing glare, Dare had never met an opponent he couldn’t face down.

He was chiseled, in an ‘I’ll sweet talk you with bloody knuckles’ kind of way. He was the epitome of the boy from the other side of the tracks, only instead of a motorcycle, he drove a muscle car.

We’d lived behind one another for more than six months and this was the first time he’d ever looked at me. Well, not the first time. The very first time it had been with a different level of intensity, biting and harsh. This time it was something else…

My stomach flipped. The wings flapping inside weren’t butterflies. Maybe hummingbirds or sparrows—way bigger than the gentle flutter of delicate butterfly wings.

His gaze seared into mine across both back yards, and then he was gone. The slam of the garage door echoed in our nearly silent neighborhood.

Hello to you too, neighbor. Nothing had changed since I had first laid eyes on him.

Grabbing my guitar, I stared up at the night sky. The inky, cloudy mix threatened rain at any second. A fitting end to an already emotional day.

Back inside, I grabbed my dinner and headed to my bedroom.

I scribbled down a few more lines in my notebook. Running over the lines again, I waited for those feelings to come to me.

I’d sung for Dare. Well, not technically for him, but I’d sung while he was there. I’d known deep down it was him, even before I took in his entire form. Why had I been able to sing in front of him?

I dreamed of music, but dreams were all I could have when I couldn’t even sing in front of anyone else. Every time I’d tried I kept coming up empty, until tonight. I’d hoped to make my dad proud by living his dream; instead, I’d been relegated to living his safe path.

I stared at the pictures on my desk. Our happy little family limped along now. And in a few months, I’d be gone too.

* * *

The shrill screech of my alarm burst through my sleep. I shot up from my bed, fumbling for my phone. Fast or efficient wasn’t how I’d describe my method for shutting it off.