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“Warren Reginald Nesbitt! Are you even listening to us?” my mom says with her hands on her hips. My dad is standing next to her with his hands on his hips, too. They look like twins, which is funny because I really am a seven-year-old twin with my sister, Ellie.
“Yes,” I say, wondering what I missed. I was watching Dragon, my pet dragon, slide down a banister in the living room onto a speeding skateboard.
“Have you started to pack?” Mom asks.
“I’ve packed lots,” I say. I do not say I have not packed anything.
“What are we packing for?” Dragon whispers to me. I shrug because I don’t know. “Are we going camping?” Dragon asks.
Dragon loves camping because of the roasted marshmallows.
“What do I have to pack exactly?” I ask my parents.
My parents’ mouths drop open at the same time.
“Your toys, Warren,” Mom says slowly. “Every toy you want to take when we move to the new house in Eddington. It’s the only thing we’ve asked you to do.”
“We’re moving?!” Dragon says. He doesn’t like change. “Quick, pack all the marshmallows!”
My parents don’t notice Dragon running into the kitchen to find the marshmallows. No one notices anything Dragon does except me, but I like it that way.
“When are we moving?” I ask. Their mouths drop open again.
“Next Friday, right before Labor Day weekend,” Mom says, and shakes her head. She shakes her head a lot when she talks to me.
“We’ve talked about it for five months now,” Dad says.
I try to remember the past five months. One day Dragon and I made a fort out of bedsheets and chairs in my bedroom and Dad came in.
“If you ruin those sheets or chairs I’m not buying new ones for the next house,” he said.
Another day Dragon and I made a snack of marshmallows, blueberries, and peanut butter in the juicer and forgot to put the lid on. When Mom saw the kitchen she said, “Do I need to clean if we’re moving in two months?”
Then there was the day Dragon and I jumped up and down on a bunch of boxes in Ellie’s room. She got upset and told Mom we ruined all of her perfect packing. Mom told me to spend my energies packing and not jumping.
“I might remember something about this,” I say just as Ellie walks into the room.
Even though we’re twins, Ellie and I don’t look much alike. Ellie looks like our dad with their blond hair, brown eyes, and freckles on their noses. I look like Mom with our brown hair, green eyes, and freckles on our arms. Dragon doesn’t look like anybody, because he’s a dragon.
“He’s never going to pack in time,” Ellie says. “If Warren doesn’t pack all his toys by moving day, can we stay?”
“No. We are moving, Ellie,” Mom says.
“You don’t want to move?” I ask.
“Why would I want to move?” Ellie asks as though I’m supposed to know the answer. I do not know the answer. “I have all my friends here and my basketball team and my gymnastics class. Why did you have to get a new job in a new town, Mom?”
“We’ve been over this, Ellie. I had to find a new job when the company I worked for closed,” Mom tells her. “And I was lucky to find another engineer position so quickly.”
“Honey, you’ll make new friends when you start second grade and join new activities,” Dad adds.
“I’ll still miss my friends here.”
“I won’t,” I say. “Your friends smell like rotten pumpkins.”
“ Mom! ” Ellie shouts, and crosses her arms.
“Okay, okay. They don’t all smell like rotten pumpkins,” I say.
“Hmph,” Ellie says.
“Some of them smell like rotten pickles.”
“ Mom! ”
“I’m just trying to help you so you won’t miss everybody,” I say. I do not say I’m not really trying to help.
“Don’t you two remember you used to get along?” Mom asks. “I have a photo somewhere of you playing in the sand together. Maybe it’s in the photo albums I packed. I’ll have to unpack it. . . .”
“Don’t unpack!” Dad says. “No . . . one . . . unpack . . . anything!”
“I don’t mind moving,” I say. And it’s true. I won’t have to listen to our neighbor Ms. Reilly call me “Warri-Boo” anymore.
“That’s because you don’t have any friends,” Ellie says.
“That’s not true!” I do not say it might be true. “Dragon is my friend.”
“Dragon isn’t real.”
“I am so offended,” Dragon says in between bites of marshmallow.
Ellie shakes her head. She looks a lot like Mom when she does that.
“You shouldn’t offend Dragon. He gets scary when he’s offended.”
Dragon huffs and puffs as best he can.
“I don’t care if he’s real or not. You still get to bring him with us. I have to make all new friends.”
“I have to make new friends at school, too.”
“Really? You’re going to make new friends?”
“Yeah, and I’m going to make more new friends than you,” I say. I do not say I might not believe what I just said. I never made a friend before. I didn’t have to because I’ve always had Dragon. But if Ellie can make friends, how hard can it be?
“Yes! Friends with marshmallows!” Dragon adds. “Warren, only make friends with kids who have marshmallows.”
“ Ha! ” Ellie says. “There’s no way you’re going to make more friends than me!”
“I’m going to make a hundred new friends!” I tell her. I do not know why I keep talking.
“ Ha! ”
“Enough!” Dad says. “Warren, it’s time.”
“To make new friends?”
“To pack!”