Virtually In Love

We're Moving? Again?

Holland's Pov
My laptop glows with a notification from Dylan.

dyl.pickle: hey

xox_roden: hey what's up? :)

dyl.pickle: not too much. Just finishing an essay.

xox_roden: sounds like one hell of a night.

dyl.pickle: oh, it's wild, you don't even know. ;)

xox_roden: gtg

xox_roden: my dad just called me out for dinner.

dyl.pickle: alright. Talk later?

xox_roden: yuup :))

I walk out to the kitchen. My younger brother is already seated and digging into his spaghetti. My parents both have anxious looks on their faces.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" My mom responds.

"Really, mom? That's all you got?" I snark.

"Okay. Okay," she starts, "Your father and I have some big news."

"Are we getting a dog?" My brother interrupts.

"Shut up Brett. We already have one." I snap.

"Anyways..." My mom continues, "Because of your fathers job," I feel my stomach sink. I've already heard this speech three times in my life and I'm sick and tired of it. "we're going to be moving." She finishes.

"Moving? Seriously?" I ask, standing up from the chair I had just seated myself into.

"Honey, we don't have a choice." My dad says.

"C'mon. It's my junior year, can't I at least finish high school here?" I ask.

My mom and dad are silent.

"Mom? Dad? Please?" I beg.

"Sweetie, if we had a choice, we'd never move. But with your father being a programmer, we don't get that opportunity." My mom says in her calming voice.

"Mom, what about Chrisy and Lex and Emily and Ryan and Tommy and..." My voice trails off as my mom interrupts me.

"Holland you've done this before. We'll help you get through it." My mom says.

"We've been here almost six years, mom. That's the longest I've ever lived anywhere. You're just asking me to throw all of that away." I can tell the sound of my voice is increasing as my dad gets a more stern look on his face.

"Holland. There's nothing we can do." My dad says.

"You could quit." I suggest.

"I'll quit if you'd enjoy eating dirt for dinner. Be real Holland." He scoffs.

"Brett, do you wanna move?" I ask.

"It doesn't matter to me. I hardly have any friends here." He answers.

I roll my eyes at him for not taking my side. "Really. So where are we even moving? Out with the Amish? Down with the country folk of Texas?" I finish that question by mocking a country accent.

"No. We're moving to Los Angeles." My dad says plainly.

"LA?" I say, regretting showing any interest.

"That's right. Sound more appealing?" My mom asks.

"No." I grunt.

Then, I remember that Dylan lives in LA. I hope a smile isn't creeping on to my face because I don't want my parents to think I'm excited. I remind myself that I'm mad at them.