Learning to Live

On Ben's 18th birthday, I found myself packing the framed pictures I had turned down on my shelf into a brown cardboard moving box. I wrapped each one with tissue paper and placed it slowly on top of another. We were moving from Washington to Pennsylvania. Not only had my parents both secured jobs there, but they had managed to put a down payment on a big white house that was smack dab in the middle of suburbia.

I believe they thought moving would do me some good, but I dreaded it more than anything. I wasn't sure exactly what the differences between Pennsylvania and Washington were, but I knew that I had spent almost 16 years in the Northwest, and moving to the East Coast would be a big change.

"Rachel, can I come in?" was the question that followed the knock on my bedroom door.

I obliged, having nothing to hide and nothing better to do than talk to my mother.

"Your father and I are going to drive over to the UHaul place and pick up a moving truck. Do you want to come?"

I shook my head in response and sat down on my bed.

"Look, Rach, I know this day is hard for you.. It's hard for us, too."

I pushed myself back up from the purple comforter clad mattress and knelt on the ground by my bookshelf. I had packed half of the hard copies I kept on the bottom shelf, but still had my entire Harry Potter collection and more. I think my mom gave up on me after a while, because she stopped staring at me and exited the room.

I took a deep breath and sat indian style. We would be leaving the following day for a drive longer than any I had been on in my life. If we ever went on vacation, which was a rarity since my mother couldn't take much time off because of her job, we would fly. But my parents had decided that it would be a good "family bonding experience" anyway.

It was July 15th. We would be pulling up to our new house by at least the 19th.

I had never returned Kyla's phone call, but I had made the decision that after I finished packing up my room I'd walk down to her house to say goodbye. After all, we had been friends since she moved into the neighborhood at the age of 5.

I finished packing at around 6 o'clock, and my parents began loading boxes into the UHaul van they had rented hours before. We left our beds in our rooms, promising that they would be the last thing to be packed in the already cramped truck. I took this as my chance to slip into my sneakers, pull on my hoodie, and start the short walk to Kyla's house.

It was a cool night. The summer heat never really touched us up here. I watched my feet hit the sidewalk and tried not to think about the many times I'd walked this route before. For slumber parties, to hang out for the afternoon, and even to get ready for my sophomore year homecoming dance.

I turned onto the cement pathway that led to the front door of Kyla's family's two story house. I had rang the doorbell countless times, but I had to force myself to push it this time. Within seconds Cindy, Kyla's mother, was opening the door. I tried to ignore the wide eyed look she gave me when she saw that it was me standing on her front steps. She hadn't seen me since before the shooting, and neither had Kyla.

"Rachel, how are you dear?" Cindy asked as she smothered me in a motherly hug.

She had been baking. The way she smelled and her flour marked apron gave her away. Cindy owned a successful bakery with her husband, Anthony, and you could always catch her at home whipping up and testing new recipes.

"Kyla's upstairs, I'll go get her for you," She told me as she led me into the cozy home and swiftly turned to go up the stairs to Kyla's bedroom.

It didn't take long for Kyla to come down the steps with her mother following closely behind her. There was an awkward moment that came before Kyla enveloped me in a hug. I hugged back tightly, both missing hugging my best friend and knowing it would be the last time I would get to do so.

"Do you girls want something to drink? Something to eat? I just made some cookies," Cindy offered, wiping her hands on the black apron that was tied around her waist.

"No thanks, Mom. I think we're fine," Kyla told her before motioning for me to follow her up the stairs.

I remembered sitting in sleeping bags going down the steps, the slick material making it a quick and easy journey. We would pile pillows and blankets at the bottom of the steps so there would be some padding when we made it all the way down.

"I haven't seen you in so long. How have you been?" Kyla rambled quickly, sitting on the edge of her bed.

I found my way to the computer chair in front of her desk and looked back at her. I didn't know what to say. 'I've been terrible, to be honest' was what I really wanted to say, but knew it wouldn't do anything but make the situation more awkward.

"I've been okay. We're moving to Pennsylvania tomorrow," I stared at my hands.

"Pennsylvania!? What!?"

I knew that Kyla wouldn't take it well, but I thought the months of seperation may have somehow caused her to let go of me a little more.

"My parents thought the change would be good, ya know? I can't really argue with what they want. They've both got jobs lined up and there's a house waiting for us, too."

"Are you ever going to come back to visit?" Kyla asked quietly.

"I don't think so," I responded, "There isn't really a reason since my grandparents have already moved away."

"But I'm still here. Your friends are still here. Your whole life is still here," Kyla argued.

"Kyla.. I know it seems like we're leaving so much behind, but we really don't have much to leave behind. After.. well.. after it all happened, we lost almost everything. We're going to gain more if we just leave this place behind," I told her, "I'm never going to forget you. How could I ever do that?"

"It still sucks.." She muttered.

A half hour later I was making my way back home. My mother had ordered pizza and we ate off of paper plates. There wasn't much conversation, but I knew what came after dinner. We hadn't talked much about it except for a few sentences, but Ben's room was waiting to be packed up - at least what remained that the police hadn't confiscated as evidence. Talking to Kyla and packing up my room has been easy compared to the task that lay ahead of my parents and I.