Chapter 1

"Can you put that on there?" I point to where I want the next batch of boxes to go before I trip right into one and almost fall over it.

My phone slips out of my hand and goes flying into the air. One of the movers grabs me by my shirt right before I face plant onto the ground for the second time this afternoon.

"Jesus, kid," the guy says as he gives my shirt a good yank and puts me back on my feet.

"Thanks," I tell the older man, who looks like my great uncle John on my dad's side.

His name tag reads Paul and tells me he's the owner. He lets go of my shirt when he sees I've got my feet back under me.

"Thank me by parking yourself in a chair until we're done here." He points to my daybed that's set up in the living room. It can work as both a bed and sofa since the one bedroom I have is going to be my office. I don't need a lot of space, but somehow I have a lot of things. Maybe I should have let some stuff go. It doesn't help matters that my parents are downsizing and let me have my pick of a lot of stuff before they move.

"I can help," I try again but catch my foot on one of the boxes. It tips over and one of the movers grabs it before it hits him in the head. I cringe and my face heats. I almost nailed the guy right in the face. "Sorry."

"What's in that box, air?" Paul laughs from beside me.

"Stuffed animals." I say and sigh.

"You're eighteen, right?" Paul looks me up and down. "Never thought to ask someone's age before I moved them." His eyebrows pull together and worry etches his face.

"Yes, I'm eighteen." I roll my eyes. I get that a lot. I'm small and my cheeks are round. Those two things together and people always think I'm younger than I am.

"They're not my stuffed animals." I know having boxes of stuffed animals doesn't help with the age thing.

"You stole them?" Paul gives me a teasing smile.

"No." I scrunch my nose. "They're mine for work," I hurriedly add.

"For work?" Now he doesn't fight the laugh trying to escape when he teases me about having them, and a few of the other guys join in.

"Yes for work. See? It says ‘office' on it." I point to the words scrawled on the box in pink marker. I know they'll want to know what I do for a living next, but I don't offer to tell them.

"Glad we cleared that up." Paul shakes his head when he sees I'm not going to give them any more information. "How about you sit." He motions towards the daybed again.

I don't want to sit, I want to unpack. I'm too excited to be still right now. I've never had a place all to myself. It's scary but I don't care. I'm ready for this.

"I don't need a lawsuit because you hurt yourself." This time Paul's tone is serious and he's not really asking.

"Fine." I walk over to the daybed and sit down. I know I'm clumsy.

I get it, I just don't care anymore. If it were up to me, of course, I wouldn't be clumsy, but I've learned to accept it for what it is. I can't sit in one spot for the rest of my life. I kick off my shoes and tuck my feet under me. I'll stay out of their way because they're just trying to do their jobs. I don't need to add to the chaos of three men in my tiny apartment. With my luck I'd end up flattened.

They all go back to working since they're almost finished. I sit and watch and try to direct from my seat. There's really no point because my place is so small they might as well put everything in one big pile.

After a few minutes I give up because they're not really listening to me. It's another problem with being small and people taking me for a kid. You can go unnoticed even when you're talking to someone, which is more annoying than being clumsy.

"Fine," I mumble as I pick up my phone to play with.

My laptop is on the other side of the room, but Paul can cut me a look better than my dad. They're almost done anyway, so I'll wait.

I pull up my emails and see if I've gotten anything new in the last few hours. I'm ahead on my work projects so I have some wiggle room. I'm debating on letting them know to toss a few more my way, but I'm not sure how my move will go or what I'll be doing now that I live in the city. At least I'm calling it the city. Mom corrects me every time that it's more of a suburb, but compared to where we live this is the city if you ask me.

As if she knows I'm thinking of her, my phone rings.

"Hey Mom," I answer.

"How's it going, sweetheart?" I can hear a touch of annoyance in her voice and it's clear she still isn't happy with me about this.

I planned my move on the same day they were set to take off on their trip. They're going on a year-long cruise around the world where they end up back in Florida where they plan to live. With my move the same day it's physically impossible for them to be in both locations at the same time.

"Great." I chirp, pretending not to see Paul watching me. "The movers are almost done and I can start unpacking."

"That's good. I wish we could have helped." She sighs into the phone. She wishes she would have hovered. It would have been sweet but annoying.

"Mom, I've got this. You've already helped enough."

I was a late-in-life surprise for my parents. They'd always planned to retire early, so I knew when I turned eighteen and graduated it was off to college or move to Florida with them.

I chose neither and instead moved to the city not far from our small town. Maybe I could go to college; it's still an option. But living out in the middle of nowhere, I'd gotten a jumpstart on my passion and it took off when I'd only been fifteen. The Love Toy Company was surprised by my age when they signed me up but they still took a chance on me anyway.

At this point I'm riding the wave, but maybe I should look into college. I could go for something like business maybe? Right now I don"t want to think about that. I'm enjoying my first taste of being on my own. Even if I don"t look old enough to be doing it, I'm doing it anyway.

My parents are older and they should be out seeing the world. They've done right by me and I want them to enjoy this time. I don't want them to be worrying about everything I'm doing. I might be clumsy, but I think I can take care of myself. I bounce back better than most and I can handle this.

"I know, but I want to see what your place looks like when it's all done."

I laugh because I'm sure she can picture it already. She helped me find this apartment and we packed up my childhood home together. Their stuff went into storage and mine was boxed and tagged for the movers, who came the day after they flew out.

"I'll send lots of pictures."

"I know, but don't photoshop me into them!" She uses her mom tone on me and I laugh.

"But it will be like you're here with me," I say.

"You pick the worst pictures." I laugh harder when I hear my dad in the background laughing with me. A second later I hear a loud horn.

"We're setting sail, honey," I hear my dad say to Mom.

"I'll email them." I know they won't have the best service out at sea. Mom has told me this five million times since she realized I wasn"t actually going to move down to Florida and stay at the new place.

"You be careful," she adds. "Don't get too worked up."

"I'm not." It's not a lie because I'm not worked up right now.

I'm sitting on my sofa bed not moving. Mom says I only get clumsy when I get worked up. What she really means is when I get excited, and I get excited easily. I can't help it. My parents didn"t try and keep me in a cage when I was growing up, but living so far from everything, I didn"t get to see much unless we were traveling. Now there's excitement at every turn here.

"I love you," I hear Dad say.

"Love you both," I tell them before ending the call.

When I look up I see Paul standing by the door writing on a clipboard.

"All done?" I ask as I stand up and make sure to walk carefully to the door so I don't fall again. I take the clipboard and sign where he points. "Thanks," I say as he leaves with his guys and I close my door.

I'm finally all alone in my new place and I turn around to take it all in. When I do, I catch sight of one of the movers' hats sitting on top of a box. I grab it and open my door to call for Paul. I remember a second later I forgot my phone and I promised my mom I wouldn't step outside my place without it. Quickly I turn to grab it and run right into my closed front door.

"Ouch!" I yelp when as I rub my head. "Of course," I mumble to myself as I reach for the knob.

I pause when I hear something behind me and turn around to look to the door across from mine. Am I supposed to introduce myself to the neighbor, or are they supposed to introduce themselves to me? Maybe you wait until you run into each other?

"Oh, you found it." I see one of the movers making his way back towards me with his hand held out for his hat.

"Yeah, it was on top of one of the boxes," I say, handing it to him. He glances at my forehead and fights a laugh.

"Thanks." He walks away and I hear him laugh as he goes.

I look back at the door across from mine and something pulls my attention to it. I stand there for a long moment with the urge to knock.

So I do.