You never imagined leaving California, but the memories of your father - of him walking out and leaving you behind - were too much to bear. So with nothing left to keep you there, you and your momma packed up and moved to the countryside. It was meant to be a fresh start, a new chapter. But as much as you told yourself this, there was a constant knot in your chest. California had been your home, and now it felt like everything was slipping away. The green fields stretched endlessly, the open skies seemed to go on forever, and all the unfamiliar faces felt like a far cry from what you had known.

You spent the first few weeks in silence, moping around your new home. It wasn't like you were happy to be here. In fact, you were mad - angrier than you had been in a long time. Angrier that your momma had dragged you here, angrier that you were forced to leave everything behind, and especially angrier that the place was so... quiet. So still. Nothing like the bustling life you had left behind in the city.

The first encounter with your neighbor, a boy about your age, only made things worse. It was a crisp morning, the sun just peeking over the horizon as you sat on the porch, glaring at the vast empty fields. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a bucket clanging against the ground. Startled, you turned around just in time to see the boy - tall, with wild, messy hair and a crooked smile - struggling with a large metal bucket. He tripped over something, sending the bucket flying through the air, and without warning, the entire pail landed squarely on your head.