I can't pretend I understand why my parents decided to move us to the UK at the end of my junior year of high school. They never gave me a choice; just let me know at the end of the school year that we were leaving in August. At first I was furious; they couldn't do this to me! I made plans to stay with Stacy, my best friend since I was five. But Stacy's family got an exchange student, and my parents insisted I had to come with them. I sulked almost the entire month of June, refusing to see anyone and wallowing in my own self pity, and by the time I realized I was being stupid and that I should be spending as much time with my friends as possible it was already July.

I hardly saw my parents the rest of the summer; in hindsight they probably though I was doing so on purpose and avoiding them. I wasn't really though, at least not consciously. I was much more concerned with spending as much time as possible with my friends. I was dreading the thought of not getting to spend senior year with my best friend of twelve plus years.

The one upside to this move (if you could call it an upside) was that I didn't have a boyfriend, so no need for the inevitable tearful breakup. Stacy was quick to point out that the guys in the UK were much better than American boys.

August came all too quickly; the move date was set for the 16th, two days before my seventeenth birthday. Stacy and my other best friend since grade school, Meredith, drove me to the airport; my parents were meeting me later, they had to sort out some last minute things with the shipping company. Both Stacy and Mere gave me my presents before I went through security. I silently willed myself not to cry; failing when I saw both of my friend's eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"I can't believe you won't be at school next years, who am I gonna complain to about Jeremy?" Stacy said, throwing her tanned arms around me.

"Annie, I'm going to miss you so much!" Mere added. "How can we do Fabulous Three sleepovers now?"

I laughed at her through blurry vision. "You guys will have to hang out and then Skype me. I can tell you all about how horrible school is without you."

"And all the cute British boys," Stacy added, wiggling her eyebrows. I burst into laughter, half laughing and half crying, receiving strange looks and glares from the other people bustling around security.

I glanced at my watch- 1:45. "Shit! You guys, I gotta go, my flight is at 2:30. I love both of you so much, I'm probably going to die without you, make sure we have regular Skype dates; I want to know everything that happens at school."

"Of course!" both of them exclaimed.

Mere pulled me into a tight hug, rubbing my back and squeezing me against her. "I love you so much, Annie. I don't care that you'll be in England for a year; you'll always be one of my best friends. Skype me always, and make sure you come back here for college. I might collapse from withdrawal if I don't see you as soon as possible."

My throat was too tight to say anything; I just hugged her tighter, hoping she knew how much she meant to me.

I turned to Stacy, and almost burst into tears. She was crying, tears slowly leaking out of her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. I pulled her to me, already feeling the hot, salty liquid slipping out from under my eyelids.

"Stacy, I love you. We've been through so much together, and we've been friends forever. I don't care that I'm moving to another country, we can't let that come between us. We aren't going to let this come between us. Don't worry, you can rant to me any time you want to about Jeremy."

She looked up at me and nodded, pressing her lips together.

"I'll talk to you guys as soon as we get to the house." I turned away and passed under the metal detector, looking down, not wanting to accept the fact this would be the last time I would see my friends in person in a long, long time.

Next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake, my mother leaning over me. I made no attempt to talk to her, instead turning to look out the window.

"We're landing in about fifteen minutes." My mom whispered.

I was a little surprised, I usually didn't sleep on planes, and if I did sleep it wasn't for very long. I guess I was just overwhelmed. Crying also always drained me, making me sleepy.

I tuned out the rest of the flight, trailing behind my parents as we walked to the baggage claim after we landed. I hardly noticed when we got into a taxi, my father giving the cab driver the address.

Unfortunately, we weren't moving to London. Had we been going to the large city, I might have been slightly less upset about the whole thing; I had always wanted to visit London, see Buckingham Palace and go on the London Eye. But no, we were moving to Bristol; a city a two and half hour train ride from London. My father had been offered an executive position at a law firm here, and the job was so good, he decided to take it. My mother would be applying for teaching positions; she left her job at the local community college back home.

I, also unfortunately but inevitably, would be going to school. I found it odd that high school was called college over here; but I was more weirded out by my schedule. I had random free periods, and classes I wouldn't ever take back home. I had known exactly which classes I would be taking senior year at Roosevelt, but none of that seemed to be taken into account for my schedule at my new school.

Lucky for me, I would only be doing year thirteen. The administration was kind enough to not force me into two years of sixth form- the name the UK had for junior and senior year. It was highly unusual, and I still had some classes with the year below me, not that I cared. I only really cared about getting out of here as soon as possible.

I sighed as the taxi pulled up to our new house. Mom pulled me against her, squeezing my shoulders, trying to give me some comfort. I appreciated the gesture, even though it did nothing to quell my feelings of loneliness.

As I got out of the car, moving around to grab my suitcase out of the trunk I noticed some kids, around my age give or take a year, hanging about in the garden of the house across the street. I paid them no attention, even as one of the boys, the one with short, sandy brown hair raised his voice. My parents had already gone inside, leaving me to tackle my bag inside.

"Hey babe!" The brown haired guy called over, sounding drunk.

I had finally managed to turn my bag the right way round and swing my backpack over one shoulder. I was in no mood to talk to anyone, especially not some overly confident douche. I didn't even bother to look over, settling for giving him the finger as I shouldered my way through the front door. I heard laughter as I shut the door loudly.

"You alright honey?" Mom asked, concerned.

"Fine," I muttered, turning to walk up the stairs to my room, the second door on the right. I dropped my bags on the floor and dropped myself on the bed, which had already been set up by the movers who had dropped by earlier.

I rubbed my hands over my face, exhausted. After a few short minutes I pushed myself off the mattress, pulling my laptop out of my backpack. I opened up the Skype application, grabbing my water bottle before I checked to see who was online. I saw the green light up by Stacy's username, and immediately clicked on her face and video called her. I felt my shoulders fall as her face appeared on my screen. This was nowhere near talking to her in person, but it was the next best thing. I settled in for a long chat with my best friend.