Mine

*Jordan’s POV*

I stared blankly out the window of the landing plane. The sight was pretty, it was around sunset and the sunset’s color were amazing and beautiful.

This was my new home. Not the airport, but the city it was located in, Huntington Beach, California. Where it never snows, and the worst you might need is a heavy jacket.

‘Great.’

I’ll miss the snow, it’s the best part of living in New York. Especially in the suburb where I lived. When it snowed on the perfectly manicured lawns, it seemed light and fluffy, and it was white and barely muddy.

Life was perfect, then we had to move because of Dad’s job offer at a photography place in Huntington Beach. “We took it for the money.” my mom said. She’s a liar, we took it because it was away from my bat-shit crazy aunt. She tried to kill my mom with a butter knife. Yes, she’s that crazy.

We also moved because the suburb was to “prissy” for Mom who grew up in Huntington Beach.

“Jojo, where ready to leave.” Dad said slightly shaking me. I was the only one on the plane sitting down and Dad looked tomato red from embarrassment.

“You need to earn to slow down, Dad. Alright let’s go.” I said grabbing my carry-on that consisted of feminine products because nature decided to screw me over this week, a book on mythical creatures that I don’t believe in, and a sketch book... with drawing of were-wolves and wolves.

“I know how to slow down, but I can’t stand when you’re idle, Jojo.” my dad replied sharply.

I hate Jojo, the nickname pisses me off. How my parents think I like it, I have no idea.

“Don’t call me Jojo, Dad. It’s Jordan.” I said slowly not wanting to piss him off anymore than I already have.

‘It’s not my fault I don’t want to move.’

He gave me a reprimanding look and gripped my wrist, pulling me out the plane and down the stairs. Mom followed close behind gripping my other hand with a vice-like grip.

“Chill out, Mom. I’m not disappearing anytime soon.” I mumbled because I was annoyed. She was so fucking paranoid.

She smacked the back of my head and let go of my hand. She walked a head with an attitude in her walk.

“Love you, Mommy!” I said pulling out of Dad’s grip and jumping (sort of) on my Mom. I wrapped my arms a bit lower than her shoulders above her boobs.

“Get off, Jordan! You’re embarrassing yourself.” I could tell she was glaring at the poor man in front of us’s back because he shifted uncomfortably. I let go and he made a sharp left.

After that we made it through the airport and the parking lot. We stood on the curb for a bit until the rental car came and picked us up. As soon as we left the airport grounds, Mom was a new person.

She smiled, Lisa Thompson was smiling.

“Oh! Baby girl, you’ll just love the new house. It’s a darling one story and it’s close enough to the school so you could walk or ride. Oh! You’ll just love it!” she gushed.

I smiled sarcastically, but she ignored me. Like usual.

‘Great.’