I hadn’t said more than a few words to her since she moved to town, even though we’d shared two classes every year since our sophomore year. We’d had a couple group projects, but as those always went, someone barged in to take control, hoarded all the information and then complained that no one else contributed. Not that anyone ever expected me to, so I’d sit back and let them freak the hell out and run through the playbook for my next game in my head.

Bay never treated me like a brainless moron. She never treated me like anything. She’d never even spoken directly to me.

What the hell was up with that? Six classes over three years and not a sentence? Most people vied for my attention.

She’d nod or shake her head, but I didn’t even know if she’d ever said a word to me.

I leaned the broom against the doorway and wiped my bloody knuckles on my jeans. The throbbing increased with each heartbeat. I needed to ice them, but I couldn’t move from my spot.

The slope and dip between our back yards meant the fence was more of a dividing line than a privacy barrier. Her back steps were clearly visible, almost raised up higher, like Mother Nature was giving her a platform to perform.

She hadn’t been out here before. I couldn’t have missed her voice. It was warm and full, and it wrapped itself around me and hit me in the center of my chest. An after-the-flag tackle.

Standing in the doorway, I needed to close the door. My fingers gripped the edge of the splintered, weather-beaten wood, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The song was filled with hope and longing for a better time. A happier time. Although it felt like I’d never had those sunshine-filled careless days, her song made me believe I had. It created memories to a past I’d never lived, and left me hopeful that maybe there was a place where I’d find peace.

She smiled, almost laughing as the lyrics poured out of her. She repeated the chorus again, cycling back to it, trying to find the next verse. I could listen to the words on repeat for the next hundred years. She stopped, looked down at the notebook beside her, and then up.

Closing her eyes, she restarted at the chorus. Her fingers plucked the strings starting and restarting.

The break in the music sent a ripple of longing through me. My knuckles throbbed along with my arms and my side.

I craved the next note. Needed it like I needed my next breath.

Her eyes snapped open and she froze, staring back at me.

I’d been caught. Somehow this was worse than if I’d accidentally caught her changing in her bedroom.

A sharp honk broke through the hypnotic call of the melody curling deep in my chest. It severed the connection like someone clipping through a power line with a set of bolt cutters.