Neighbors

Neighbors I

A/N

Just so you know, I wrote this back in like eighth grade so be prepared for grammar mistakes, cringe-y moments, and really cliche words.

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Chapter 1

A C T U A L L Y, S Q U I D W A R D I S M E

As the day pours on, I start to remember how life was five years ago. Actually, the day isn't going on, I'm moving on. Literally. The trees are a blur as my mom flies down the highway at a high speed, her mind caught in something resembling a spider web. Mine too. Only I'm pretty sure I'm following a certain path, and my choices can ruin everything. Like the butterfly effect.

Yeah, it was my choice to move all the way back to Salt City, to breath in the salty air again. I told mom it was just because I grew up there, but the truth behind it is I want to see my best friend again. That's the main reason.

So right now, here we are, in a moving truck going over 100 mph and me watching the cars fight to keep up with us, but they move backward slowly.

"Are you excited to be back in Salt City?" My mom asks me as we pass a sign that says Salt City. I know she was waiting to use that line for a while because a smile overcomes her face at the proudness of finally being able to talk to her daughter again. Normally. Usually, we can barely talk.

"Yeah. I can't wait to go to the school I always wanted to go to," I slap the hidden insult down on the dashboard, just to hurt her. There was no reason we had to move. I know she had the money to still live there in the bright yellow house, four houses down from my best friend. After my father's death, I know he passed over millions of dollars he was saving for my mom and I. He saved it for us, and mom took it and used it all. My father was dying from the disease that kills the closest people to you. Cancer. Of course, he kept it a secret. And we had to be informed by the hospital when he finally breathed his last breath. Turns out he's known for a while and mom and I were too stupid to figure out he was dying, but he knew and saved tons of money for us for when he finally left us.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your last year in high school. Considering you skipped right over eighth grade here."

"Due to you." I point out.

"Quinn!" Moms voice laces anger, along with hurt as she screams at me. This is why mom and I can't talk. It always ends in a fight, or mom ends up crying, remembering my dad, or feeling guilty for taking me away from my childhood. Also guilty about spending most of her money on her, and leaving me to look like a hobo. Or her tears will be fake for show and to get pity from others. Never have I really seen her full on cry. Back to the hobo thing.

Where mom has amazing black hair, I have black hair with the ends needing a cutoff. Mom has pantsuits, dresses, I have sweatpants with matching sweatshirts. I actually prefer that last one.

Soon after a series of silence, we pull up into the familiar driveway. Of course, it isn't my old house, no mom sold that one, but she found one with a gravel driveway and dying flowers. Cheap. That's all I can think about to explain mom. Cheap like the crab from SpongeBob, with an attitude like Squidward. Actually, Squidward is me. Mom is more like...Patrick. Stupid and the collector of Squidward's hate. Actually, mom is Spongebob too, the one Squidward hates the most and tries to act perfect, when really she feels lonely because no one wants to be around her because she's so annoying. Okay, I started to rant. And that made zero sense.

My feet that are only socked hit the gravel, but I don't care about the rocks digging into my feet as I stare at the house next to ours. It's Andrew Johnson's. My old best friend. Okay, maybe my mom didn't pick this house because it was cheap, maybe she did it so I could live next to the boy I couldn't stop thinking about forever. I highly doubt he remembers me though. So instead of climbing up his houses vines and into his window to play video games, I turn and walk sadly away from the house, feeling like a broken twig. Why did I think coming here would heal me?