Garage Heroes

“Taylor!” I heard my dad call my name from the car. I grabbed the last box labeled “Kitchen” and ran outside. He had his back turned to me, so he didn’t know I was there and he began to yell my name again.
“Tay-,” he turned around in time to see me getting ready to open the car door, “Oh! There you are! Here, I’ll get that for you.” Dad swiftly took the box out of my arms and put it in the trunk of the car. We were moving, but he liked to fit as much stuff as he could in the car. It was a challenge for him.
I had been living in this house my entire life, so you would think I would be really upset about moving. In that case, you would be really fucking wrong. I liked the town, I just didn’t mind moving for the simple factor of me having, let’s see, no friends. Everyone at school hated me. I had been the point of everyone’s jokes for the longest time. I was into different things. They liked rap and I liked punk rock. They liked snapbacks and I liked beanies. They liked each other and I hated everyone. We were from two different worlds. I needed to get out of this town. I needed a fresh start. We would be moving to Cincinnati, Ohio, which was about a five hour drive. Maybe I would be able to make at least one friend. That’s all I really wanted.