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Life Moves On
By: Kristopher M. Mizell

Chapter 1: The Big Move

“WE’RE WHAT?!”
“We’re moving.”
“But I can’t move now, what about my life here,” cried a frustrated boy with black hair and glasses to his mother. “Turn down the job, tell them you don’t want to, quit if you have to, just please, please don’t make us move again!”
“I have to Kris, we need the money, you know that,” she said as she packed a box of clothes. “Besides, you and Jay will make plenty of friends in New York—“
“New York,” he burst out, “They’re making us move to New York!? Have you any idea what it’s like out there? That’s an even bigger city than Dallas! And plus, what about my job, and what about Jay, did you consent with anyone before agreeing to this?”
“I’m the mother, so I don’t have to, remember, plus I don’t remember you having any choice in the matter, and lastly, hurry up and help Jay pack up.”
“Why? When do we leave,” Kris asked, looking both confused and frustrated, rubbing the bridge of his nose where the pads of his glasses had lay.
“Tomorrow morning,” she said, making sure to look away at this moment, knowing the result.
“Tomorrow morning!?” he burst out angrily again, almost dropping his glasses. “How could you possibly agree to that, we need at least a week to get all our stuff together, you know that,” he said as he slammed the door behind him storming off to his room to pack.


I can’t believe we’re actually going through with this, he thought the next morning as he put his stuff on the x-ray monitor and stepping through the metal detector. I can’t believe I’m even going through with this quietly.
Three hours, one in-flight movie, and some really bad seats behind a stubborn child later, they were there.
Well, maybe it won’t be too bad, at least the suns out he thought as they called a taxi, which was quickly taken by a guy with a bad attitude.
“Yeah, do you show your mother that finger, a*****e,” Kris shouted after him, showing the exact same sign. “Wow, this city’s getting better and better, huh,” he said sarcastically to his mother as they waved down another taxi, “at least the natives are friendly.”
“That was only one guy Kris, there’s plenty of nice people here,” she said as they put their luggage in the trunk, “besides, you weren’t the nicest person either holding up that finger—“
“Oh please, spare me the lecture,” he said, closing the trunk and opening the door for his baby brother, “you’re only telling me this because I stuck mine up before you did.”
As they took off, Kris observed the surroundings of his new home. Pretty much everything he already expected, same things he usually saw in movies, mostly nothing but apartments and little convenient stores, a few houses here and there, but still nothing like Dallas.
Once they got to their new two-story apartment building they placed their stuff in their new rooms and waited on the stoop for the moving van, “Wow, hey Kris, we finally got our own rooms!” shouted an excited eight-year-old boy, just noticing the separate rooms.
“Well, that’s one good thing on this move,” he said, remembering having to sleep on the floor every night to avoid being kicked in the back by Jay. “When is the moving van coming mom?”
“It should’ve been here already,” she said, looking at her watch, “hold on,” she said, pulling out her phone and moving towards the house, “I’ll call the company.”
Well, at least the girls don’t look as bad as I’ve heard, he thought as he sat there and watched as a group of girls passed by, giggling as they went. Ha, what’s the difference between these girls and the ones back in Texas? I mean, they’re just another group of girls that I have no chance with unless they’re drunk, desperate, dumb, or all three.
“Hot ain’t they,” said a feminine voice beside Kris, who turned his neck in surprise too fast, spraining it.
“Huh,” he asked, rubbing his neck as the girl came around the railing to sit next to him.
She had baby blue eyes, and a thin looking physique, but what really caught Kris’s eye was her hair. She had bright red hair that looked as if she could stop traffic because people couldn’t stop looking at the unusually bright color.
“Don’t try to deny it,” she said, looking at the girls who just passed, “hell, if I swung that way I’d go with them too,” she said, laughing at her own joke.
“Yeah…. sure,” said Kris, still surprised by her hair color.
“My name’s Jessica, I live next door,” she said, putting her hand out to shake his and pointing to the door across the railing that split the stoop in half. “And your name is…?”
“Kris,” he answered, putting his hand out to shake hers. “We just moved here from Texas and—“
“Oh, a country boy, huh,” she interrupted with widened eyes of interest. “What’s it like to—“
“You know, “ he interrupted in a bored voice, looking back at the girls, who were now turning the corner, “I hope you’re not one of those stereotypes who think that Texans still ride horses and carry a pistol everywhere we go.”
“Oh…. Of course not, heh heh, what made you think that,” she said with a look of embarrassment and turning almost as red as her hair. “So…um… anyway,” she said, obviously looking for a change of subject, “hey, why don’t you and your family come over for dinner tonight, my mom is making spaghetti, and we could get to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
“Oh… I don’t want to impose or anything… I mean we have a lot of unpacking to do—“
“Well,” said his mother, walking back outside, “the truck won’t come until tomorrow, so we’re off the hook for unpacking tonight and, oh,” she said, surprised to see the girl sitting on the stoop next to her son, “hello, well Kris, introduce me.”
“Oh, um,” he said turning back to Jessica “this is—“
“I’m Kris’s mother,” his mother finished.
“We were just talking about me going to her house for dinner—“
“Actually,” Jessica interrupted, “I was wondering if you all would like to come over for dinner, we’re having spaghetti tonight,” she added brightly.
“Isn’t that sweet, but are you sure your parents wouldn’t mind,” she asked, looking at the girl with a sweet-like gaze.
“Oh no, my mom wouldn’t mind at all, actually, it’s been a while since we last had company.”
“Oh, well… sure then. We’ll bring some dessert with us. Y’all like chocolate cake?”
“Who doesn’t,” she said, smiling even wider at this point.
“Ok, if you hurry now Kris, you can get the supplies and bake it,” she said, looking at Kris, knowing that cooking might help cheer him up.
“You can cook?” Jessica asked, looking as surprised about cooking as Kris was about her hair.
“Yeah, I can and would, but I don’t know where the nearest store is,” he said, looking up and down the street in hopes of catching a sign of some sort. “Besides, what would I cook it in? All of my pots and pans are in the moving van, remember?”
“I know where the store is from here, I’ll show you, and I have some pans we don’t need for tonight, you can use those if you want,” Jessica said, grinning broadly at this piece of information. “Let me just go change first, and I’ll meet you in about ten minutes or so,” she said standing up, “ok?”
“Um…sure, ok,” said Kris, watching her jump the railing and open the next door.