"Look how gorgeous the house is hunny!" she cheered gratefully, clapping her hands once and holding them together.

I took a quick glanced to the white wooden structure standing return my stare into the car, "It's nice mom," I replied, remaining motionless against the leather.

Her smile weakened a moment stepping over to the passenger window. She leaned in through the window, placing her arms down on the rim and laid her head. Her smile soften up "I know that you didn't want to move but this is for the best," she encouraged continuing to press that curve to her rouge painted lips.

I puffed a quick sigh reaching for the handle. "I never said I didn't want to move," I reinformed and she removed her head, stepping away from the door. I cocked the door open and kicked it with my left, hopping out. "I said I didn't care," I reminded her, shutting the door firmly, allowing it to slam lightly. I stomped up yard rejoined the walk near the entrance and continued into the house.

The door swung as I opened it, another slam christening the room as I entered. Father sat smugly at the dinning table folding his hands over his multiple stacks of papers and recipes bunched in neatly assessed piles, directed in specific areas amongst the table. Sharing a glance, my eyes untimely wandered catching my feet, "Where's my room?" I asked.

"Hello to you too," he chuckled, fullyheartedly smiling to its own content. I put my knee down against the floor board, unbuckling my shoe. The old man couldn't possibly be happier with his new bargain. I switched feet, finishing and placed the pair to the side on the mat. "Your rooms up stairs to the right," he continued humbly, "you'll see your stuffs already in there but we didn't touch it. You can figure out what you want to do with it."

I stood up and nodded weakly, beginning to walk down the hall. The stairs became visible after a few steps and I heaved my way up. I pushed open the half closed door and revealing an assortment of furniture bunched in the middle of the room. The walls painted a peachy white and the bed already assembled and made along with other faintly familiar furniture from the previous home. The bottom draw of the dresser was forced open with the various lipsticks bought as for previous birthday along with mothers other other gifts popping out for the world to see. The two peal matching side tables were stacked on top of one another near the lone oak bookshelf with cardboard boxes sitting near it.

I shoved the bed to corner wall near the window side leaving space between the extra boxed interior walls outlining a closet for the next room and my bed. The bookshelf moved to the interior wall closest to the window leaving about five or so inches of walk uncovered. I carried one box in my arms while gentle bumping the second and third on the floor over to the bookshelf. The first with blue and dirt coats and the second with yellow and dirt. I unpacked the first and shelved them in order of number, going over to the third box holding a mix of blue, yellow and brown when the number wasn't found in the first. I then did the same for the yellow reading over Carolyn Keene's name just as many times as Franklin W. Dixon.

I brushed my fingers over the hard covers of the bottom row, stopping near the end and pulling out a senior grey card cover. I opened it to the front, 1952 and flipped it over to the back, $1.75.

"Knock knock?" a familiar feminine voice chimed in.

My eyes blankly shifted to the door as it crept opened and I stood up dusting off my bottom.

"Hello," she greeted, smiling with entry and I walked over the side of the bed, sitting down and scooting against the wall, keeping the book in hand. She glanced around the room, pushing her lips as her gaze met mine, "Oh look at that," she opened her mouth to a weak teethe grin, "you've already started moving around your room." She glanced at the dresser sets and mirrors still clumped together as they were left, "Aren't you going to finish?" she tried politely. I flipped over the page and continued reading. "Alrighty," she complied, straightening her smile, "Dinner is just about ready and I would like you to come and eat," she paused, "You haven't had anything since we left."

I shrug my shoulders, glancing away and tugged a small smile to my lips. She brightened gladly and walked out of the room. I refused the energy towards my lips closed the book on my lap. I shifted off the bed and placed the book on a bedside table that matched all the other shit in the room, lifting myself to my feet.

I walked down to the dinning room. All the papers cleared off the table and set with napkins and plates. I stepped over to closest chair and smoothly lifted the plate walking into the kitchen. I scooped each food on to my plate in separate piles and headed back to the table, gently placing the plate down first before I sat. Father sat across from me with mother joining him to his side. The plate was leveled between the four, equally divided utensils. I shifted over into the middle of my seat and crossed my arm over, picking up the inner fork, carelessly stabbing the plate.

"Ahem," a voice interrupted, and glanced up to mother. Her face shot with clean disapproval, a dirty mix of hate and concern. I glanced towards my plate and removed my stare to her, delicately placing my fork to the right of my plate.

Father sighed catching my attention as I left the fork in it's place. "Can't you let it go just this once?" father interrupted, glancing towards mother with an empty fork in hand. I folded my hands neatly in my lap observing the two.

Mother sighed shaking her head, "If we don't correct her now, she will continue that filthy habit," she explained dryly, shifting her gaze to me.

I broke the fold and reached over with my right hand; picking up the fork and lifted it into my mouth. Mother nodded, still eying my movements as I chewed with my mouth closed and my hand on my lap. I leveled my back more strictly to perfect ninety degrees, straight as a ruler.

I ate my next few bites in silence, finishing the first pile and moving on to the next. "So what do you think of school?" my father interrupted again as time well passed from the incident.

I shot my head up to him my mouth slipping open and closed. My gaze switched over to mother, she set her fork down; wiping her mouth and moving it away from her face before speaking, "I think we should wait hun. It's Ridge's first time and-"

"-No," I cut firmly something spitting from my lips, "I want go."

Mother shot me stern stare and to where the food had landed, "Finish chewing please," she replied setting her napkin on her lap.

Father looked at mother wiping his mouth, "Well," he began smiling to hide his chuckles, "I did tell the school that we were coming so they should be ready."

She sighed, and finished chewing before continuing, "I know but-"

"-Mother please?" I begged, gripping the sides of my chair, "I want to start tomorrow."

"Ridge, stop that," she snapped sharply, sharing a look with father.

"Clearly she wants to go," he chuckled, reaching for the bread basket and taking a slice. He wiped a clean strip on his plate and humbly bit the collected excess on his bread.

She shifted her gaze my way and I smiled weakly with impatience. "Alright," she replied, rolling her beauty covered eyes playfully.

My face light to a bright confident smile and her's curved slyly as I ran from the table. "Woops," I though aloud, stopping abruptly and turning back on my heel. I neatly folded my hands behind my back, smiling dearly and swaying, "May I please be excuse?" I asked showing off my smile.

Father smile, "Yes you may," he laughed, swiping the bread again.

My teeth grew to show and I reached up for my plate, bringing it to the kitchen. I redirecting myself to the sink as I almost went to the counter and gently placed my plate beside the drain. I rushed back up through the dinning room and missed the staircase. I turned back; hopping up the steps, and headed to my room. I ran into my bed snatching the same book from the side table and continued to fly through the chapters. Yes!