Meet Cayce's P.O.V:
Looking at the pavement, you see a tall skinny girl strutting her way down the street with an air of "wow". Too bad that is what you see on the pavement, my shadow, looking up an average girl takes her place with a similar, but somehow, different strut. Average. Ugh. Something about that word just makes me want to throw up a little. Too bad that is all I am: Average. Average looks. Average grades. Average life. When it comes to being average, I would call myself an expert.
If you notice me, Cayce, average may be the word that pops into your mind first. But I knew I wanted to change it this year. Come on! I am about to be 16 for crying out loud! Settling for average is just not going to work. Uh huh. No way. Nope. Not this year, not this girl.
So when I saw the moving van turn the corner, an idea popped into my head that I couldn't shake and, thankfully, I didn't want to. Sprinting the last half mile to home, I did whatever I could trying to make myself look drop dead gorgeous in anyone's opinion, and with a last look from my neighbor as he mowed his lawn, I knew I looked good.
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Meet Joe's P.O.V:
"What the heck is wrong with this town? Preston Hills, Twelve Oaks, Highland Meadows, Preston Lakes? Any reason for all of the nature names? Oh right, because you all are freaks and have to drive 20 minutes to find any civilization!"
All of this bitterness is spurred by our recent, forced move. And, apparently, I am the only one willing to put up a fight. Kevin has been reading… again! Nick has just been sitting, looking out the window. I don't think either of them are really able to protest anything. Frankie doesn't seem to count as he plays with his Webkinz. And I have been, well, not exactly happy or in any form of a pleasant mood. I must be a joy to be around.
Finally pulling into a neighborhood, I take my mind off of my iPod for about 5 seconds. Oh, another nature name! Gentle Creek. Yea, this is some weird town. Too bad our parents felt like moving us back to Texas couldn't hurt. We couldn't go back to Wyckoff, because too many people knew us there. So they thought meeting up with some old friends from Dallas would be the answer. The Carters knew our parents when Nick, Kev, and I were younger (was Frankie born by then? Who cares?!?). Two boys and girl Nick's age doesn't sound too bad, but I can't really remember these people, or this town, at all.
What were our parents thinking? This is too weird. Everyone here is outside mowing their lawns, gardening, swimming, and is too busy looking like robots. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a girl sprinting down the sidewalk looking like she needed to be somewhere fast. Here dark hair trailed behind her a little as her flip-flops nearly flew off her feet and she ran faster than I think I have ever seen a girl run. Dang. Watching her was the most entertaining thing I had done all day, studying every aspect of her, noticing all of the details to the perfect picture, seeing her look of determination. Too bad it only lasted a couple of seconds before we turned yet another corner, and she ran up a grass front yard. She was probably going to her boyfriend's house, because nothing could work our right for Joe Jonas this year! So far as a flirt, charmer, and a new version of Seth Cohen, I think I have failed, the glares I keep shooting at my family kind of take away from my usually adorable appearance.