My family and I are eating our usual dinner of spinach, rice, dumplings, and fried eggs. It seems like a perfectly normal Saturday night at the lively, cheerful dinner table until my parents start to speak to me about moving to New York.

“Trisha, your father and I would like to tell you something that we think you’ll really find as a new experience.” she says, smiling broadly.

“What is it?” I ask exuberantly. “Are we going traveling for winter break?”

“No,” my father replies, smiling along with my mother. “It’s something much more exciting…..”

“Just tell me….” I groan tired of their attempt to build suspense.

“We’re moving to New York!” My mother and father exclaim joyfully.

“Wait. What?” I utter, completely dumbstruck. I choke on the steaming dumpling in my mouth and cough repeatedly.

“Are you all right, dear?” my mother asks concerned. She pats my back gently and after I recover, I clear my throat and speak.

“Why?” I shout in outrage.

Both my parents look taken aback, and their delighted smiles fade. Then, my father calmly explains,” We’re moving because I found a great job that pays well. The job I work at now doesn’t pay enough to support our family, so your mother and I decided that we should all move to New York to be together.”

“But I want to stay here with my friends!” I say, forcing my voice to sound calmer.

“I’m sorry,” my mother says after a pause. “But you can make new friends at your new school.”

“That’s it.” I say, standing up. “I’m going to bed.”

I stomp straight to my room and flick on the dim lights. Then, I flop onto the soft mattress. How am I going to tell my friends that I have to leave them forever? Will anyone even like me at my new school? I don’t want to be a loner. And when am I moving to New York?
I try to push these questions away and clear my mind of all the troubled thoughts. I’m reluctant to accept this sudden change, and I’m furious and frustrated with my parents that they couldn’t find a way for me to be happy and stay with my friends.

For about an hour, I toss and turn, thinking about how I am going to make a good impression on my new classmates. I keep reassuring myself that they will like me as their friend and everyone will enjoy being around me. But my subconscious tells me that I am never going to be happy.

I’m over thinking again. I need to calm down and relax.

Slowly, I drift into a deep sleep. That very night, I have my first nightmare in four years. We’re moving again…..

Closing the curtains. Zipping the luggage. Frantically pacing around. Mom heaving the luggage. Dad helping. Me clinging to my grandma.

The next morning, I awoke to luggage zipping, instead of the usual aroma of fried eggs and hash browns. I heave myself out of bed and perform the usual morning activities: brush my teeth, wash my face, apply lotion, and floss. I head to the kitchen, but mom hasn’t even prepared breakfast yet, and it’s 11:13 A.M. She’s probably still getting everything ready for the day when we were supposed to depart. I wander everywhere in the house, but she is nowhere in sight. I heard her packing luggage though. Where is she?

I glance out the kitchen window to see if she is planting in the backyard. Nope. I open the door leading to the front porch to see if she is mowing the lawn or sitting on the wooden rocking chair reading Greek Myths. Nope. I check all the rooms, including the bathrooms, to see if she is here at all. But she is nowhere.

Did she and dad go to New York without me? Anxious and frightened, I pick up the phone and hurriedly dial my mom’s number. She doesn’t answer. Time to call dad. I’m sure he’s going to answer.
But he doesn’t. For about an hour, I panic and pace around the living room. When will they come back? Then, I realize something. I dash into my parent’s bedroom and open their closet. Oh, no.

All of their clothes and belongings are gone. I explore the rooms again, noticing that only furniture remains. I fall back onto the lumpy couch and sigh heavily. They really left me. At that moment, the phone rings, disturbing the silent, desolate room. Springing myself off the couch, I sprint towards it and pick up the receiver.

It’s Mrs. Collins, my friend Vinnae’s mom.

“Hello, Trisha,” she greets me. ”How are you doing? Are you enjoying your weekend?”

“It’s ok….” I reply, quite despondent.

“Oh, that’s great,” she says politely. “Your parents just called me and told me to pick you up to watch over you for the next four hours. They’re at your grandma’s house and they’ll be back soon. I’m parked outside your house so come out right now.”

“Oh, ok. Bye.” I hang up the receiver and change out of my pajamas. I open the front door and fresh minty air greets me. When I see Vinnae’s mother waving at me, I immediately sprint towards the car, eager to see Vinnae. After chatting in the car for a few minutes, I finally decide to tell Vinnae about moving.

“Umm…. I need to tell you something.” I say nervously.

“What?”

“I’m moving to New York soon.”

“Oh, I already know.”

“How did you find out?” But before she can answer the car pulls into her driveway and she hops out of the car. I hear a lot of chattering and excitement coming from the house. As we enter the front door, I notice that there are many children and adults clustered in the living room. Some of the adults turn and stare at me and whisper to their children. There are medleys of food displayed along a long, wooden table, mottled star-shaped balloons tied to chairs, and confetti everywhere. There’s even a piñata. Then, I recognize someone: my classmate, Luz. I rush towards her.

“Luz, what’re you doing here?” I exclaim, surprised.

“This is a “good-bye” party for you.” She extends her can of soda to me. ”It’s a small party but Zishan, Cody, Yu Jun, Allison, Melissa, and Sally are all here.”

“Are my parents here?” I question eagerly.

“Oh, yeah. They’re over there.” She points her finger. “I think they’re in the kitchen, slicing the red velvet cake.”

I go straight to the kitchen and on my way there, I am greeted by friendly welcomes from both my friends and their families. When I reach the kitchen, my parents, who are putting slices of creamy cake onto paper plates, turn and stop what they are doing once they see me. Then, they rush over and give embrace me.

“We’re sorry that we left you at home. But we knew how upset you were after we told you that we were moving to New York,” they both apologize.

“Well, that’s ok,” I say, still dismayed. “What’s this party about?”

They let go of me and reply, “We wanted to host this party, so that you could be with your friends one last time.”

I beam for the first time in fourteen hours.

I help my parents pile the paper plates with cake and hand them out to everyone. That night, we leave Vinnae’s lively house and drive to the airport. While we’re driving there, I take out the good-bye card that all of my friends had signed and had given to me before we said our farewells. All of their names are written in it, but what strikes me the most are three simple words. They read “Keep Our Memories”.