Chapter 1
Rowan
Ten Years Old
She twisted around in the front passenger seat. “It’s probably dead, Ro.”
“I know it’s dead,” I replied, irritated. Someone packed the charger in my suitcase this morning when we left the motel and it was in the trunk. “I’m asking what I’m supposed to do now.”
Dad kept his hands on the wheel as he said, “Look out the window and enjoy the scenery.”
“That’s so boring,” I complained, folding my arms over my chest.
My mom snorted a laugh. “You love California. Why are you pouting?”
“It’s not California that’s the problem,” I answered then grumbled, “It’s having to move again.”
My father’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “I get it, and I’m sorry.”
We were driving from Texas to California because Dad had new orders.
Every couple of years, the Air Force picked a new place for us to call home, so I’d learned not to get too attached to anything.
Except that wasn’t really how it worked.
I couldn’t spend years somewhere and not find my spot at lunch, or figure out which teacher was cool and which one wasn’t.
I still made a best friend. Then one day, I’d have to leave and start over somewhere else.
I tried anyway. I always did.
We’d lived in San Antonio the longest we’d stayed anywhere else, and I’d hoped that would be where we stayed forever because I’d started Brazilian jiu-jitsu and knew the gym, the drive there, the smell when I walked in, and the sound of Coach Matt telling us to line up when class started.
I knew who I liked partnering with when we drilled, and who always went too hard because he was trying to show off.
I’d been doing BJJ for three years. Dad had signed me up because he said I had too much energy and nowhere to put it.
I didn’t like it at first, but then something clicked.
My feet stopped feeling clumsy. My hands started knowing where to go instead of grabbing whatever was in front of me.
Breathing got easier, even when my chest felt tight and my face grew hot.
Then something would finally work, and Coach Matt would look at me and say, “That’s it, Rowan.
Good job,” which made me want to do it again.
I loved it.
I loved it so much that thinking about never getting to go back made me mad all over again, because it wasn’t fair that grown-ups got to make the decisions while kids were just supposed to deal with it.
Dad got orders, Mom packed, and I had to pretend it didn’t bother me that life would keep going without me.
My friends would still have lunch together.
They’d still walk to class together. They’d still play at recess.
I’d be the kid they talked about for a week, then the kid who had never been there at all.
And yeah, I had a phone, and Mom kept saying I could text, and Dad promised we could visit, but that wasn’t the same as sitting next to someone at lunch and laughing so hard that chocolate milk came out of our noses.
Texting wasn’t the same as being able to knock on Tommy’s door and ask if he could come outside.
It just wasn’t fair.
“We’ve been in the car for three days,” I pointed out, because it was true and awful. “Three. Days.”
“We’ll be in Sacramento soon.”
“Not soon enough.” I slumped back in the seat.
After some long, boring minutes, Mom pointed to the windshield. “That’s the exit for Grandma’s.”
“I know.” I rolled my eyes. “We’ve been here before.”
Her smile softened as she looked at me. “Exactly. We’ve been through this, and now we get to stay.”
Stay. Yeah, right. They bought a house this time, but we were staying with my grandma for a few days before we could move into what my mother called her forever home.
Forever.
What a joke.
This forever home was a house I hadn’t seen. My parents had done everything in one weekend while I’d stayed behind at Tommy’s. I guess they thought my opinion didn’t matter, and it was okay because the new house had a pool just like the one we had rented in San Antonio.
“Your mom’s been waiting a long time for this,” Dad added.
She reached over and grabbed his hand. “Don’t make me cry in front of our child.”
“I’m not a baby,” I reminded her.
She glanced back at me. “That’s how it works; you’re my baby, and we’re not moving somewhere we’ve never been. This is Sacramento. My hometown. We can see my family whenever we want. I’m not going to have to plan a whole trip just to hug my mom.”
Dad grinned at her. “So you’re going to start showing up unannounced?”
Mom smiled. “At my mom’s house? Absolutely.”
I couldn’t help smiling too. Seeing my grandma often was going to be awesome because she made the best chocolate chip cookies.
My mom pointed at me. “See? You’re already happier.”
“I’m not happier,” I argued, even though I was. I was excited to call California home, yet I was also sad.
Dad stopped at a red light. “Your mom wants this to be permanent.”
“I want it to be permanent too,” I admitted, but I was worried it wouldn’t be.
The light turned green, and my father said, “We’re going to do everything we can to stay this time.”
My mother shot him a look. “Don’t make it sound optional. We bought a house instead of renting, and we will stay.”
My father didn’t argue with her, but he didn’t lie either. “I’m not trying to scare anyone. I’m being honest.”
That was the problem.
Honesty meant there was always a chance the Air Force might change its mind before my father retired in two years.
So even as Mom talked about Grandma’s cooking and Dad complained about the hour-long commute he would have even though the new assignment was a good one, my brain stayed stuck on the same question: What would happen if Dad got new orders before he planned on retiring?
Would he retire early or make us move again?
Two days later, my parents got the keys to our new home. Dad turned the car onto our new street and pulled into a driveway without a word. I unbuckled my seatbelt quickly, excited to pick out my room.
“Rowan,” my father called. “Wait.”
I froze, my hand on the door handle. “Why?”
He glanced at Mom. “Let your mom get out first.”
She didn’t move. She just stared straight ahead, her hands in her lap, as if the house wasn’t real or something.
My dad leaned a little toward her. “Dawn. Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
After a few seconds, we all finally got out, and I stared at the house.
It looked normal.
It was one-story with a walkway leading to the front door and a garage. I saw nothing special about it.
Mom lifted her phone and took a picture of the front of the house.
I scanned up and down the street, trying to see if anyone was watching the new family move in.
A kid stood in the driveway next door. He was about my age. His dark hair was messy like he’d spent the last couple of hours running around. He had a basketball tucked against his side and watched us without smiling.
I stared back.
“Go introduce yourself,” my mother urged.
I shook my head. “No.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Why not?”
“Because I just got here,” I argued. “I haven’t even seen my room yet.”
She nudged me. “You have plenty of time to see the whole house. Go say hi. Make a new friend.”
“Fine,” I groaned.
I stopped at the edge of our driveway. The kid stayed where he was but kept staring at me.
“Hey,” I greeted.
He blinked. “Sup?”
“I’m Rowan.”
“Keaton.” He tipped his head toward my house. “You’re moving in?”
“Yeah.”
He looked at our car in the driveway. “Where’s your stuff?”
“It’s coming,” I said. “We have a moving truck and everything.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Ten.”
“Me too.”
“Sweet.”
I pointed at his basketball. “Do you play a lot?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Just shoot hoops every day.”
“That’s cool.”
“You play?”
“I play baseball and do jiu-jitsu.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Like UFC?”
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s different.”
“My cousin watches it. People get punched.”
“We don’t punch,” I explained. “It’s more like wrestling.”
“You just roll around?”
I frowned. “It’s not just rolling around.”
“Sounds like rolling around.”
“It’s training. There are rules.”
“Do you win?”
“Yeah, I have six gold medals, three silver, and a bronze.” I beamed.
“So you can beat people up?”
“I didn’t say that, but also my dad would kill me if I got into a fight.”
He stared at me as if he didn’t expect that, then his face softened a little. “What do you do for fun?”
“Nintendo 3DS, but it died. I need to charge it.”
His eyes widened. “You got a 3DS?”
“Yeah.”
“I have one too.”
“What games do you have?” I asked.
“Tekken Prime and Mario Kart.”
“I have those too.”
He finally smiled a little. “You good at them?”
“Yeah.”
“Keaton!” A lady’s voice came from inside his house, muffled through the door, yet sharp enough to make me stop talking.
His whole body froze, and his smile disappeared quickly. He answered her without turning. “Yeah?”
“Inside,” the voice snapped back. “Now!”
He swallowed. “I gotta go.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He backed up toward his front door. “I’ll be outside later.”
“Cool.”
He hesitated for a second, then went inside. The door slammed shut, and I stood there, staring at it before I turned back toward my new home.
Mom leaned in the doorway of the house as I walked to go inside. “What’s his name?”
“Keaton.”
“Maybe you two will become best friends?”
I scoffed. “Doubt it.”
“Why—”
A big, white moving truck turned the corner and crawled toward our driveway. It stopped in front of our house, and two guys climbed out. One had a clipboard tucked under his arm; the other went to the back to open it.
Clipboard Guy walked up to Dad. “Any special instructions before we unload?”
“No. Just waiting on my kid to pick his room,” Dad said.
“I’m going.” I jogged inside, down the hallway, and stopped in front of the first door I came to.
The room looked a lot like the one I had in Texas, about the same size and the same plain walls, so I stepped inside to check it out.
Through the side window, I could see the house next door and straight into a room.
A poster on the wall showed a bunch of dark-haired guys in black clothes and red letters across the top that I couldn’t read.
A second later, Keaton walked in, and I turned away fast before he could see me and kept going to the last bedroom.
It was slightly larger and had a window facing the backyard and the pool.
I stood in the doorway, arguing with myself.
A room facing the backyard meant no one could see me.
The other room meant Keaton was right there and could see inside if my blinds were open.
I didn’t want to admit I liked the first room more just because Keaton was right there, especially since I’d only known him for like five minutes.
Still, he had a 3DS. He had Tekken Prime and Mario Kart. He had a basketball, and he was my age.
I walked back to the side-window room and made up my mind. “This one! First door on the left!”
Mom’s footsteps thudded inside. She appeared in the doorway, her eyes bright. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. Go get some boxes,” she ordered.
I stepped back to the window again because I couldn’t help it.
Keaton was in the room, his eyes fixed on my window. We stared at each other through the glass.
He lifted his hand.
I lifted mine back.
His mouth moved, and I couldn’t hear him, but it looked like he said “Hi.”
I smiled before I could stop myself, then turned away from the window and ran to the front of the house to get all the boxes for my room.