Jack’s a good dog, and always stays nearby when I need him. I slid off of the chair and scratched Jack’s ears. "The old lady next door says there’s a brother and sister, twins, that live down the street." I pointed out the window, through the little courtyard that we had instead of a patio. I stopped texting Jenna, my best friend from home. She straightened up and handed yet another stack of dishes to Dad. Mom’s head was buried in a box, her voice muffled and funny. "So, have you met anyone in the neighborhood yet?" I knew already I wouldn’t fit in, and wondered if they even had a swim team in the desert. By now everyone’s groups of friends and enemies would be set. The timing couldn’t be worse: the summer between grades six and seven. I thought about the move, leaving all of my friends and starting over. The ocean is beautiful, big and open, and always helps me get my head in order. He’s a border collie mixed up with something else pretty big, and sometimes that makes people nervous. Biting cold water kept me from swimming, so I just sat on the sand and watched the waves, throwing sticks for Jack until someone yelled at me about not having him on a leash. For Dad, getting close to different tribes of Native Americans couldn’t be beat.Īfter school I went to the beach. Mom found a dream job working with rockets at a lab. Why would we want to move there? I wouldn’t, but Mom and Dad couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to move to New Mexico, to the desert, land of the coyote and roadrunner cartoons empty, barren and ugly. I wished they’d yell out "April Fool’s!" and the move would turn out to be some sort of crazy joke.
"Maggie, you’ve known for months about the move, why are you acting surprised?" I’m never going to be one of those golden-haired cheerleaders everyone loves. I don’t like being taller than all the other kids in my class. Rain-straight brown hair brushes my shoulders, and I chew on the ends when I’m nervous.
Not sure why he spent so much time staring I’m not terribly exciting to look at. But I guess it’s nice to have parents who pay attention. I don’t like it it feels like I’m one of the skeletons in the Anthropology Department where he works. He does that, as if he’s seeing through me, into my head. "The date is set with the movers," Dad announced while pouring his juice. Mom and Dad broke the news to me over eggs and bacon. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to and purchase your own copy. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
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