Chapter One

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I have come to a conclusion that shall revolutionize the way I pack-- unpacking all the junk is a huge bore. So now I'm only taking the bare minimum on any trip. I guess in this instance, my packing is justified though, since I did just move to a new state and all. At least I have my iPod to keep me calm while I tear off yet another piece of tape from the seemingly endless pile of boxes on the floor.

I turn my iPod onto repeat as it changes to Give Me a Sign by Breaking Benjamin. I don't know why Jessie thinks Breaking Benjamin is a "dark, scary band that has no purpose". I don't think she's very educated in music. I mean, she listens to that song about finding your love in a sea of joy and unicorns and that's just fluttery butterfly music that "has no purpose". I can't stand that stuff, which is why I stick with the head-bang stuff such as Breaking Benjamin and Three Days Grace.

Speaking of Jess, I thought, picking up my purple, rhinestone covered cell and typing in her number.
Jess and I been best friends for years now, but after she moved to California, we saw less of each other, which is why we have frequent phone calls and she carts herself where I am every couple weeks. We have close to the same personality, but not the same music taste. As you see from above, she likes the stuff I call "Fluttery Butterfly" music.

"Hello my lovely!" she answered in a chipper mood.
"Hello my psychotic friend!" I replied back.
"Hey, that was that one time and it was completely justified."
"Yeah, throwing a live monkey at a spider was "completely justified"." That was the one time I was afraid for a monkey's life. We were eight and thanks to NCIS, I thought the poor monkey would explode on contact.
"That thing was huge and it was on my pillow!" she screeched.
I laughed, "Oh how I have missed you."
"Aww," she said, mellodramatically. "I've missed you too, boo."
"Boo?" I asked, "Is that my new name?"
"But of course!" She laughed. "So what's up so far in Hillbilly Land?"
I smiled. "Well, we picked up some road-kill about an hour ago and-"
"Okay!" she interupted. "I get it! Road-kill, yum. Now get to the interesting parts...like cute guys!"
My smile grew wider. Ah, the boy-obsessed teenager she always would be. Not that I could blame her. "Well, I don't think the word cute could even be used to describe this boy."
She squealed very loudly and I quickly pulled the phone away until I knew it was okay to put it back onto my ringing ear. "What's his name? What does he look like? Does he have an accent?" she pummpled me with questions.
"His name is Drew, he had green eyes and brown hair and he has a southern accent."
She squealed again. "He's your dream guy! Ohmigod! We have to go through your wardrobe and do your nails," I let her continue on until she runs out of breath, then I interupt.
"Does this mean you're coming to Hillbilly Land?"
"Ask your dad, ask your dad, ask your dad!" she chants and I laugh.
"Okay! Hold your horses for a sec, will ya?"

With her Dad a big-wig CEO for the world's largest supplier of appliances, she's loaded, so a private jet is what she got for her birthday and she already told me she'd be using it. I'm surprised she didn't just come with us, but then again, she'd have to ride in a car with my dad and that wouldn't happen.

"Daddy!" I call up the stairs as I walk up with the phone in one hand. The stairs creak from the pressure and I'm not sure whether to be offended that it thinks I weigh a lot, or scared that I'd crash to my impending doom. I decided on middle ground.
"Yes, honey?" he calls back. I push the door open more so I can slide through the only place not inhabinated by boxes to talk to my Dad.
"Can Jess come over?" I walk into the living room where he and Jim are moving the couch to the desired position. My eyebrows furrow when I see that the 'desired position' is very un-desirable. "Uh, in the middle facing the T.V." I inform them and they quickly move the couch where I instructed as Dad replies.
"Of course, baby girl."
I want to know where Drew is, but I'm not about to ask.
"Are they staying over for dinner?" I ask.
"We're gonna go Danny's Diner for dinner, sweetie." Jim replies for Dad and I smile at the use of 'D's before nodding and putting the phone the next to my ear.
"He said "yes"."
She squealed and I pulled the phone away from my ear as Dad and Jim laugh. "Gosh! Are you eating Frosted Flakes again? I told you not to." I said as I hesitantly bring the phone to my ear again.
She scoffs. "Course not, Em! You forbade me from such cereal."
I smile, knowing she's lying. "Jessica Roberts, I can't believe you'd indulge in such a hyperactive mood inducing, artificial, food-like substance."
I can almost see her glowering at the floor good-naturedly. "Ah, ma! But it ain't fair, it's yummy!" she says like a six year old.
"Eat an apple instead." I smile wider.
She gaggs. "An apple?" she spits out. "Really? That fruit can't compare to Frosted Flakes!"
I laugh. "I gotta go, boo, but call me when you land, 'kay?"
"Okay, boo." She laughs. "Bye, bye."
Ah, I miss my hyperactive friend. I can't wait until she reacks havoc on Dyserburg. It shall be a sight to see.

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