Can I Tell You A Secret?

Chapter Two

All 3 members of my family follow me up the stairs. I hear them gather outside the door. The doorknob turns, and Wren walks in, joining me on the bed.

"We can't move, Wren," I whisper, and she hugs me.

"I know. I don't want to. I really don't want to," she whispers back.

A tear rolls down her cheek, and I hug her back. The door opens again, and my parents walk in. I glare at them. Oh, if looks could kill.

"Alouette, Wren, calm down. We're moving, and there's nothing you can do about it," dad says, his voice firm.

"You didn't even ask us!" Wren exclaims, standing up.

I stand next to her.

"We're your parents, we make decisions. We've already booked a house there, and booked flights, and started packing," mum says.

"You've already started packing?" I yell, "did it not occur to you to ask us?"

"You can't just tell us we're moving, you should involve us in the decision making process!" Wren adds.

It's strange seeing Wren so angry. She's normally such a calm,collected person, seeking out the good in everyone and everything. But now she looks like she's five seconds away from exploding. Mum and dad look like they can't quite handle it themselves.

"You know why we can't move!" I screech, tears rolling down my face.

Then there's silence. It's so quiet that you can hear the tenseness in the air. After a minute of awkward silence, mum speaks.

"That's actually the reason why we're moving. If we move, maybe we'll be happier. And you'll be able to go to school," she says.

I finally understand why we're moving. I give in, nodding.

"I'm not happy about it, but I see your point. When do we move?" I ask.

Mum's shoulders slump in relief as she leans against dad. Wren sighs, then smiles bravely.

"I guess I can see your point."

She hugs mum, who gratefully hugs her back.

"We leave in two weeks! We've packed half of our things already, so just pack all your things up. There's a ton of boxes in the garage. Ooh, I'm so excited!" she practically skips out of my room. Dad follows her.

"Wow," I say to Wren, but when I look at her, her face crumples.

"Honey," I say as I wrap my arms around her. "It's going to be okay."

"But it's not!" she sobs. "Everything is all wrong!"

"Hey," I say, placing my hands on her shoulders and looking her directly in the eyes.

"It'll be fine. When we move to England, we can actually go to school. We'll make new friends with awesome British accents!"

She laughs a little shakily, wiping her eyes.

"Those British accents better be cool," she comments, "now let's get those boxes. Should we start on your room?" she asks.

"Sure!" I agree.

The next two weeks are filled with packing boxes and chucking things out. Mum looks less tired, and more excited. Dad finishes his job, and helps us pack. Wren and I spent ages flicking through old photos, and school books. The house is cleaned and sold, and soon the date printed on our plane tickets is upon us. We arrive two hours before our flight takes off at 2:00am.

"I'm going to fall asleep," Wren yawns, "let's go get some coffee to wake us up."

We find a Starbucks and order two coffees.