“All of our stuff,” she replied, like it was that simple. “Although there’s still plenty of unpacking to do.”
“Lucky me,” I mumbled.
Mom pretended like she didn’t hear. She keeps trying to convince me that the move isn’t a big deal. And for her, it’s not. The new house is in Westlake, almost thirty miles away from our old apartment. She still gets to have her same job, teaching tenth grade English at North Hollywood High School. Plus, she can drive anywhere she wants. I’m only eleven, and my bi