When my grandpa was sick. When my older brother went to University. When we had to put the dog down. This time was harder because I had to say goodbye to everything. Friends, family, school, soccer team, house... home.

I had a sleepover with Davis last night. We stayed up late talking about everything, about moving, about the girls we liked, about what we would do if we had a million dollars, the soccer team, about the pool party at Joe’s house. We promised that would text each other on a day to day basis. I told him to visit, he said he would.

“Hey! You’re back already?” My mom asked me, as we passed each other on the sidewalk, while she carried boxes to the van.   

“Yeah, Davis had to go to practice.” I replied, awkwardly.

“Oh,” She said, placing the boxes in the trunk. “Are you hungry? I left some snacks out for the car ride.”

“No, I already had breakfast,” I answered, while walking towards the house.

Most of the house was already packed up. Besides a few boxes, it was as empty and lifeless as when we bought it. The cabinets just wood, the countertops just marble, the yard just grass and trees.

It had been a little awkward at home ever since we had talked about moving. My Dad had been promoted to sales executive for the Pacific Northwest. We were all happy about the higher pay, but not so much about moving. My sister and I were united in our arguments against our parents, it was definitely understandable, the promotion was great for my dad’s career, but to us it just wasn’t as beneficial. We grew up here, had friends, were on sports teams, her softball, me soccer. Next year I’ll be starting high school, and she will be starting middle school. Both of us wanted to start the new schools with our friends. They knew that we were angry and frustrated, so as most parents do in such a situation, they overcompensated in other areas: more sleepovers, video games, new bike, etc. Although the tension never ceased. 

I walked upstairs into my room. All they had left was the bed. The room seemed much bigger without everything else. The walls looked bare without all of my posters, the floor cold without my rug. It was noticeably warm that day, it had been well over 100 for the past week. I checked my drawers, Just in case I had forgotten something.
Then I went to the bathroom, checking there too. I brought my water bottle, filling it to the brim, I would need it for the long ride.
Once back in the room I grabbed my backpack, opening the small inner pocket. I grabbed my lucky penny, a 1924 wheat penny. My grandpa had given it to me. I stuck it in my pocket, it felt safer there. He’s been gone for so long.
I laid on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, remembering that sterile hospital room.

“Jamie?” grandpa asked.

“Yes?” I said, looking up from my National Geographic.

“Come over here, I want to show you something.”
I got up and sat next to my grandfather, moving a bouquet of flowers from the chair.
He pressed the button on the side of the hospital bed to lift himself up.

“Do you remember last summer when I showed you my coin collection?”

“Of course.”

“I want you to have one.” He said, as he grabbed a small pouch.

When he opened it, he took out a small penny, which he placed in my hand. My young eyes widened, as my small fingers wrapped around the small coin, then I glanced up at him.
 
My mom’s yell brought me back to reality: “We’re almost ready!” 

“Ok Mom, I’ll be right down!” I yelled back. 

I closed my eyes, thinking that this was it. We were actually going. It’s strange how you can spend so much time thinking about one moment, then when it comes it suddenly doesn't seem so monumental.
“Jamie, come on! We’ve gotta go!” She screamed, starting to get angry.
“Ok Ok, I’m coming.”

I got in the passenger seat, immediately cranking down the window. The hum of the engine carried us through the residential streets. I reached into my backpack to pull out my iPod and the tangled headphones wrapped around it.

Before I put the music on, I reached into the backpack again, taking out my penny, the one that grandpa gave me. I held it in my hand, the copper smooth against my skin, as I leaned out the window, my hair blowing in the wind. Placing it on my thumbnail, I flicked it upwards. It seemed like it spun perpetually. I know I wouldn’t be able to catch it. Panic rushed over me, I could feel the blood rushing to my face. But then I was calm because for some reason, I got this feeling that it would land in my favor.