Moving Day

The Beginning

Sadie counted the stripes of moonlight running across the white ceiling and barren walls of her new bedroom.

Twenty-four.

Of course the number hadn't changed since the first time she tallied them an hour earlier.

Or since the hour before that.

The number a mocking reminder of where she was twenty-four hours earlier.

She wanted so badly to be back in her old bedroom (her real room) in Brooklyn, with its squeaky parquet floors and the orange glow of the streetlights shifting on the cracked plaster walls, the shadows changed by the traffic rushing past outside.

She was positive about one thing. This strange new suburban version of life would kill her, with its pollen, bees, wall-to-wall carpeting and endless dull hours. All things she was highly allergic to.

Sadie looked at her phone.

Midnight.

Officially the start of her first full day as a Jersey girl. Her parents' cruel stunt, buying a house the summer before junior year.

She opened the blinds and the window, letting the stifling July heat intrude and her father's precious central air escape.

Escape.

In Brooklyn she'd be looking at her fire escape right now. But she didn't need a ladder to flee tonight.

Sadie slipped on her flip-flops and climbed out the window. She crossed her arms and walked toward a park that was in the center of the development. Her parents pointed it out to her when they first looked at the house.

Sometimes they forget she's turning sixteen, not six.

The tears came next.

As she turned onto the avenue an SUV pulled up and slowed down to a crawl beside her.

Sadie glanced at the vehicle and walked faster. The SUV sped up to follow. She heard the electric whir of the window.

"Hey!"

The voice was male.

There was nobody else around. She was in pajamas. And she forgot to take her phone.

The tears came harder now.

She abruptly turned back. The car reversed, still keeping her pace.

"Hey are you okay?"

Sadie wiped her eyes.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Really? Because it's not often I see a crying girl walking around in pajamas after midnight. I can give you a ride if you need one."

Sadie finally looked at the voice.

He was cute.

But so was Ted Bundy.

"I'm not stupid enough to get into a car with a stranger."

He turned on the interior light and smiled.

It made him cuter.

He was probably her age.

"Since you look like you've escaped from a hospital or something, I think I probably have more to fear than you do."

"Despite your flattery, it's still a no."

"Well if you're sure, then 'Good night.' The name's Paul by the way."

Sadie watched him drive away and decided she wanted to go home. But she settled for the new house.

When she approached, she discovered the SUV on the driveway next door and Paul removing a hockey bag from the back.

"Hey neighbor!"

He turned, dimples showing.

"I'm Sadie."