"Not again!" I protested when I heard Mom's news. "Where are we going this time?" We've moved six times in the twelve years since I was born. That's because my Dad's job is to set up offices for his company, and each time he finishes establishing a new one, we move. "California," said Mom. "I'm sorry we have to uproot you again." She opened a map and pointed out the town we'd be moving to, north of San Francisco. She truly sounded sorry, but I could see she was pleased, too, because she's from California. She'd always said Chicago was too noisy for her. For one thing, the elevated railway wasn't far from our apartment. Whenever the trains rumbled past, the chandelier in our living room swung to and fro. My stomach felt full of cold lead. You'd think I'd be used to moving, but I felt sick every time. Now I'd have to say good-bye once more to the friends and places I'd just come to feel comfortable with. Plus, Chicago was the most exciting place we'd lived. It had everything—great parks, libraries, museums, skating rinks, and playing fields. Only five blocks from home was the Youth Center, where I played volleyball or board games or just hung out joking around with friends. That day, after learning the news, I went straight to the Youth Center to find my friends. Their smiles turned into gloomy frowns when I said I'd be leaving in a few weeks. We grumbled about my bad luck. Finally, Eric said, "Moaning and groaning isn't going to change anything. Can anyone say something good about this move?" Sarah piped up, "Well, Megan…you'll be lying on a warm beach while we're still slogging through the snow." I pictured myself lazing on a stretch of white sand, a gentle blue sea rocking before me and palm trees rustling behind me. I could go for that. "Just think," added Josh, "no freezing rain or sub-zero temperatures." "No tornados. No blizzards," contributed Kayla. "Just lovely, sunny days." "Yeah. All you have to worry…