Like Chocolate Stars and the Sun

"We're moving."

You would think these words come as a shock to me, Francesca Olivia Miller, but unfortunately you would be wrong. Moving is part of my family description. You see in my life time my family had moved a grand total of five times, so I'm pretty used to just packing up and leaving because of my fathers job. Sure it’s a pain but its one way to see the world.

Or in my case, the country.

Yes. My whole life has been moving round good old England. But those five places we have moved to haven't been all that bad, I suppose. London was pretty cool, but Brighton has to have been the best so far. So when my dad said this I thought he meant we were moving to another city within the great United Kingdom...

How wrong I was.

"I can’t move to California," All I could do was stare at my dad. He had to be kidding.

"I'm sorry but I can’t help it. My boss wants me there by the end of the summer."

"I can’t go. Full stop." I crossed my arms as I sat at my place at the dinner table, moving round the country was ok, but going to a completely new country and having to get used to a whole different lifestyle - that ain't exactly my cup of tea.

"This is not optional Francesca." My mother decided to add to the conversation. "It will be a great opportunity for you and your brother."

"To be honest mum, I ain't all that thrilled about it either." Good old Brandon. Always on my side. "The whole schooling system is different over there. I really don't want to start having to go to school all over again when I have just finished."

"Brandon it would only be for one year."

"That's not the point mum." I added. My mother glared at me. My brother was sixteen and had just left high school after finishing his big bad GCSE's He would have to start going to school again if we moved - and he wasn't really a fan of school.

"Well he doesn't have much of a choice seen as though your father has taken the job." I have never seen my mother look so smug. Brandon's jaw dropped and I'm pretty sure mine did a similar thing.

"You took the job without asking us first." Brandon was the first to recover from his state of shock. Meanwhile, I still sat there with my mouth open and eyebrows somewhere above my head.

"Yes because I knew you would act like this." My father answered as he helped himself to some salad from the huge bowl my mother had made for our dinner. "We have moved many times before and you never acted like this. I don't understand the difference."

"It’s California." I stated, probably sounding very much like an idiot.

"You always moaned at me to take you there, but when you can go you make a big fuss."

"That's because I wanted to go there on holiday, not to live there." I replied to my father, stressing the word holiday.

"Well I'm really sorry kids, but it’s a big opportunity for me. I couldn't refuse."

The same excuse he used every single time he told us we had to move. I shook my head and looked down at my plate.

"When do we have to leave?" I asked quietly while staring at my food - I wasn't so hungry any more

"Two weeks. That gives you plenty time to say goodbye and pack." My father explained as I did nothing more then nod. Two weeks wasn't long enough for me. It never had been when we had moved in the past. I needed at least two months warning, which unfortunately for me rarely came.

“Can I please be excused?” I asked my dad. He nodded and I pushed my chair back and walked up to my room. After collapsing on my bed I was not quite sure what to do with myself.

I heard a soft knock on my door. I looked up as Brandon walked into my room and sit down on the bed next to me.

“I don't want to move.” I whispered Brandon put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into one of those side hug things.

“I don't want to either but it looks like it’s inevitable.” Brandon looked down at me.

“It would be if dad hadn't taken the stupid job in the first place.” I mumbled into Brandon's shoulder.

“It’s like that Wombats song. Moving to New York.”

Trust Brandon to say something stupid like that.

“No Brandon it isn't First of all we are not moving to New York, and second it isn't because we have problems with our sleep. Or ice-cream as you thought the song said the first time you heard it.” I laughed and looked down at my hands.

“I know, but it got you to laugh.”

Fast forward two weeks and my family and I are at the airport at some ungodly hour of the morning. My friend Carmen was there as well, just to say goodbye. I pulled her into a hug as the intercom announced that our plane was now ready to board.

"Call me when you get there." Carmen ordered me as I pulled away from the hug to pick up my bag. I smiled and nodded.

"Definitely I will have to figure out the whole time difference thing first, but I'm a quick learner." We both laughed and hugged one last time before I turned around and headed for my gate. Before I knew it I was sat in my seat with seat belt on and the plane was speeding down the runway. I am not a big fan of flying, so I desperately tried to go to sleep. Hoping that when I woke up all this was just a dream.

Unfortunately it wasn't

A good ten hours later we touched down in L.A.X, my body clock was all off. It felt like it should be afternoon but because of the wonderful thing called time difference it was actually morning. Wonderful.

Once we had collected all our bags we headed to a house that my dads company had gone out and bought for whoever had gotten the promotion. I suppose this was a plus side that we had somewhere to live after moving with such short notice. It wasn't a long drive from the airport, about half an hour or so, in my dad’s brand new company car that just so happened to be there when we arrived at the airport.

I must admit, California is nice. In fact it’s better then nice, it’s fantastic. So much better then rainy old London. But I still wasn't sure if I was keen on living here permanently. I stared out of the window for most of the drive, taking in the sights and just enjoying the sun beating down on me. God I love sunshine.

"Frankie?" My brother shook my shoulder and I turned my head round to face him. He was the only person in my family who called me Frankie, everyone else called me by my full name. Anyway the reason he had been shaking my shoulder was because I had been so busy looking out at the scenery I hadn't even noticed the car had stopped moving. No wonder I had been looking at the same thing for the past five minutes. I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity and stepped out of the car, then gasped at the sight before me.

Our new home was fa-mazing. See it was that good I invented a new word for it. It was huge and white, did I mention it was huge? It even had a front garden, something not typical of London homes - and if they did have one then it would be the size of a small box. As soon as my mum opened the door I was inside and upstairs deciding which bedroom I wanted. There were five in total, I picked the second biggest, because it wasn't too big and it wasn't too small and it had a walk in wardrobe and an en-suite. Pretty nifty eh?

I dumped my bag on my queen sized bed and skipped down the stairs. My mum and dad had just finished bringing in all our suitcases and looked up at me as I happily skipped across the hall.

"You seem happy for someone who didn't want to move here." My dad smiled as set the suitcase he had been carrying down. Brandon walked into the hallway. He looked like he had just given the ground floor the once over and he couldn't help smiling.

"I must admit Dad, I'm starting to like the idea of living here," I raised my eyebrow at my brothers comment and looked at him. He noticed I was looking in his direction and looked back sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. My mum laughed and handed a suitcase to me and motioned for me to take it up the stairs.

Two and a half hours of unpacking later and I was sat on a sun-lounger close to the lagoon shaped swimming pool in my back garden rubbing in some sun cream. I had changed from my skinny jeans and t-shirt to some denim shorts and a halter neck top. It was pretty warm after all. I wanted a tan, purely because my skin felt incredibly pale compared to what I had seen on some of the California girls. After I had finished rubbing in my sun cream I went to dangle my legs in my pool. Wow, I have never said that before. The water was nice and cool against my skin and it was extremely refreshing after sitting in the sun. I pulled iPod out of my pocket and set it to shuffle. I closed my eyes and tapped my fingers against the poolside.

I was completely relaxed, but of course that only lasted about five minutes.

Halfway through my favorite One Republic song, Stop and Stare for those of you interested, I heard something hit the water and unfortunately I was in the 'splash zone' and my legs and torso got slightly wet. I opened my eyes and took out my earphones and saw a football floating in the water close to where my feet were dangling. I reached over, carefully trying not to end up in the water, reason one being my iPod was still on my lap and reason two being I really didn't want to go in the water with all my clothes on. When I had successfully scooped the ball out of the water I looked at it in confusion. Then I heard a voice coming from behind me

"Could I have my ball back please?"

Wow. That's all I can say.