"Mom, I'm home!" I yell as I walk into the house.

"In the kitchen!" My mother replies. I drop my school bag and go into the kitchen. I stop dead in my tracks as I see not just my mother, but my dead beat father sitting at the table.

"What's he doing here?" I ask, glaring at the man in question.

"Becs, please, sit. I called him. I have something to tell you." She says, gesturing to the empty chair.

I look at my mom concerned. Sitting down, I ask, " What's going on?"

She sighs. "My job's transferring me to England."

"That doesn't explain why he's here." I say, though I have an idea on the reasoning.

"You're going to go live with your father." She says. At those words I feel my rage building, but before i can say anything, she continues. "My job won't be paying me enough to bring you with me. It'll only be a year, at most, before I can save up enough money to move you there with me."

I take slow, deep breaths in order to calm down. "When?"

"Friday, so in three days." My dad says. I turn to look at with a cold look, making him freeze for a moment before continuing. "I already have you enrolled at Barden, and you'll be starting Monday."

"Okay." I say.

"Okay?" They ask in unison. Clearly they were expecting me to make a big deal out of this.

"Well, it's not like i have a choice." I say. I look at my father before adding, " I have one condition though."

"What is it?" He asks, somewhat suspicious.

"I want a car. It doesn't have to be anything fancy, just something with little to no problems. That way, I don't have to walk or ask for a ride if I want to go somewhere." I say.

He looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "Alright, we'll go looking for a car when we get to my-our house on Saturday."

"Okay. Well if you'll excuse me, I have homework and packing to do." I say, standing to walk out.

"The movers will be here Thursday for you stuff." My father says before i walk out. Junior year's going to be hell.