Solo

Prologue

My parents called a family meeting and I couldn't think of a good reason why. Maybe my coming home thirty minutes past curfew the night before had something to do with it, except I'd had a legitimate reason, which I'd already explained-one of my friends had taken forever changing a tire on my new car, and the donut was proof.

My parents sat in recliners opposite me. They didn't look mad; more like worried. Dad closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, I recognized the look-pity. My first thought was that someone had died.

"Honey, I'm deploying overseas in a few weeks and I'll be gone for a year."

My mouth dropped and pain shot through my heart. My eyes stung. I was sixteen and I couldn't remember my dad being away for more than a month for field training, or some other military obligation. We always moved as a family. I looked at my mom staring at the floor. The lump in my throat forced a choppy response. "It'll be okay, Mom. I'll be here with you." I looked at Dad and tried to focus on just one of the many questions racing through my mind. My thoughts wouldn't come together. Finally, I collected one. "How long have you known about this?"

"Only a week or so. We knew it was a possibility, but your mom and I decided not to tell you, just in case nothing came of it."

Mom looked up with tears, and muttered, "There's more news, honey."

I looked at her dumbfounded. What could possibly be worse than my dad leaving us for a year?

Mom glanced at Dad. He nodded, encouraging her to continue. My heart practically thumped out of my chest. Please don't say divorce or separation. My hands started to sweat and I clenched them between my knees, waiting for her to speak.

"Your dad and I have thought about this long and hard." She paused. "We both feel it would be best if you and I move in with my parents while he's gone. The plans are already in motion and we'll be leaving in a month."

I froze, going completely numb. Nothing had prepared me for this; her words echoed, hollow and lifeless. I stood and robotically walked to the bookshelf. Grabbing the 'M' volume of an encyclopedia, I whacked myself on the head. It only hurt and made me dizzy. I couldn't believe I wasn't waking up. Was this for real? Dad was leaving us for a year and my parents were making me move before the end of school. I rubbed my head and turned back to see their shocked expressions.

"Eliana, please, honey, say something," Dad pleaded.

Shaking my head, I croaked, "Why can't we just stay here for the year? Why are you ripping me out of school with only a few months to go? Did you even take my feelings into consideration when you made this decision?"

Mom sobbed, "Eliana, it's going to be a long year and I'd like the extra support I'll receive from my parents. I know it'll be hard at first, but I think you'll be happy in Oregon."

My blood started to boil. Before I knew it, I was yelling. "For sixteen years I've never once complained about being uprooted! I've never complained about not having a home of my own-about always living in housing provided by the military! This is the first place I've ever felt at home. I truly love California!"

I wasn't sure if it was a mild concussion, or if I'd just exhausted myself from anger and pain, but the room started to spin and I covered my face with my hands, weeping.

"Honey, it's only for a year. There's a chance your dad will get orders to come back here." Mom tried to give me a little slice of hope.

I shook my head before silently walking from the room.