&Tonight's The Night I'll Fall For You Again

            "This isn't fair! I love him!" I screamed, but it was too late. I was moving. My dad got a new job across the country. So there we go. It was settled, goodbye California, hello New York. Obviously I was going to miss it. I was going to miss the warmth and the peace. I was going to miss my friends. I was going to miss everything about the place that I had known since I was two. The house looked so bare on moving day. Everything was empty.

My dad was excited for his new job. My mom was always a big city girl, growing up in Chicago. My little sister, Callie, was always up for adventure and trying new things. I guess that's what happens when you're eight, and you've never really experienced the world. Wait, I stand corrected. When I was eight, the only place I ever knew was California.

Well, that and New Mexico, but I lived there for the first two years of my life, and then I moved to California. I don't even remember New Mexico. I was so scared that as soon as I'm in New York for a while, I won't even remember California. But anyway, back to the point. When I was eight, I was terrified of change. I was terrified to leave the state, which thankfully I was never forced to.

But Callie's different. She's insane, daring, and brave. I'm just the shy girl with a lot of friends. Does that even make sense? Shy girl...with lots of friends? No, it probably doesn't make sense, but you get the point.

There was one thing about California that I was going miss the most. Kale Mathews. He was popular, good-looking, funny, smart, and I was completely and totally in love with him. No, I wasn't some sort of obsessed stalker. I was his girlfriend of a year. That's right, one whole year, and then I was moving! A year doesn't sound like that long, but trust me, when you're thirteen when you start going out, and he still likes you when you're fourteen, that means something. Love that young isn't really love at all. I figured that out the hard way.

Love is something completely different. But, none the less, Kale promised he'd still love me when I finally moved back. He promised he wouldn't date anyone else. He promised that we'd be together forever, and that after a few months we'd be back to where we were before. He promised this wouldn't last long. But it did. That was two years ago. We talked almost every night for the first few weeks, but after a while, we just stopped talking. Yeah, that was definitely love.

I finally called him after weeks of not talking, and we agreed it was best just to date other people. He had just turned fifteen, and being a typical guy, I knew it was best for him compared to 'cheating' even though what we had was never really a relationship in the first place.

Oh, I'm sorry I'm being rude. I'm Hanna. I've never really been one for those 'hi, my name is...' moments, but none the less, I'm Hanna. I'm seventeen now, and I'm still living in New York.  Surprisingly enough, I actually kind of really love it here. I met this boy, and we got pretty serious. His name was Jake, and he was incredible. But, as I learned on multiple occasions, all good things eventually end in heart break.

Needless to say, that didn't last. Nope, not even three months, and he was already all over a girl he'd just met. Whatever, that's his loss, because a week after we broke up, they broke up, and he moved onto another new girl. Player. He kind of reminded me of Kale. To be completely honest, I had forgotten all about Kale. I was shocked when I made the realization.

Well, basic overview, just in case you're confused. I'm Hanna. I'm seventeen, I live in New York City with my dad, mom, and eleven year old sister, Callie. I dated a really great boy, Kale, back in California, but all good things end, especially when you're hundreds of miles apart. He probably has some new girlfriend. I had a boyfriend, Jake, but we ended that when I realized he was a huge player. Well, I basically just told you the first few pages in a paragraph. I really need to work on my rambling.

Back to the main point, the story, right, the story.

"Hanna, breakfast!" Mom screamed down the stairs.

"Not hungry," I groaned loudly, just loud enough so she could hear me at the base of the stairs.

            It's a Saturday morning. It's 8:00 a.m., can't I just sleep, mother?