Chapter 16

Dad isn't here when I arrive home. I take off my shoes, put on my pajamas, and head directly towards the backyard. Every aspect of my pottery room, which is always directly across from the back patio, draws me there. I want to go there so badly, but I just can't get myself to do it. I want to get lost in something there so desperately that I forget about everything else.

Never again can I create anything in that space.

I look over the fence and into the neighbor's yard at that point because I can hear music playing there. Steve is concentrating while seated on his back porch with a guitar balanced on his leg. His brown hair cascades forward, erecting the wall I had earlier desired between us and shielding his gaze from mine. It's debatable whether or not I should be grateful that his house is a little higher than ours because, if it weren't, the fence would serve as yet another obstruction separating him from me.

My initial instinct is that I need him to be kept away from me. Like eve