“Juliet! Are you ready?”

“No, Mum!” I called back. “I’m not and I’ll never be!”

“C’mon honey,” she smiled at me, “get in the car before something else happens.”

“What else could happen when we’re moving to another place, just because of some inspiration thing you guys have?!”

I was arguing—arguing with my parents again. My parents are famous writers known nationally and internationally. Both of them are authors, who sell thousands of books every year. And wait. Wait for it. Well, there’s nothing so special about this, but they’re also big fans of Shakespeare.

I surely hate books. But for some reason, I was always good at writing essays and all that stuff you do in English. It was like English, as a subject, was in my genes…

Anyway, let me get straight to the point. I hate my name. From all the things in the world my parents could name me, they called me Juliet—for elegant and grace (not to mention beauty). Why can’t they call me Lily, Flora or something like Rosa? They all mean beauty and kindness. Don’t they? But no. They ended up calling me Juliet. So, my official name is… Drum roll, please! Juliet Hayes.

And until I am able to change my name, which I have to be eighteen years old—a legal adult—I would have to suffer with this name, Juliet, for another year. So to make it satisfied, I made myself another name. You can call it a nickname or something like that, but it was simple and short, Julie.

Since my parents got my name from Shakespeare, I tried reading the play Romeo and Juliet and to my disappointment, it wasn’t that great. The reason for Romeo and Juliet’s death was something that can be easily avoided. So why do people have to die and make the storyline so sad and tragic? Wait, what was that thing people call between a man and a woman again?

Oh, right! It was love.

Seriously, wasn’t there anything else in the world that is more important than love? Like those fairy tales, such as Cinderella, Snow White and Rapunzel? Wasn’t there something else better than romance?

I found that pranks were way better than those lovey dovey romances. So I learnt the skills for pranking over my school years, making me one of the top pranksters in all of the schools I’d moved to. Which was practically awesome! I got to do anything with anyone I hate, or in nicer terms dislike. But now, my problem is that I have to move houses again. Why? Let me repeat myself. Because my parents need new inspiration to write their books for a living.

“Juliet!” Dad called. “Get in the car and stop being so stubborn for once. This new place isn't as bad as you think.”

I rolled my eyes and glanced back at my house. I guess I have no choice. I looked back at the brick house. “I’ll miss this place.”

Turning around and entering into the car. I sat down and closed the door. Mum sat next to me and smiled, “Don’t worry, dear,” she said with her sweetest voice. “This new place would be as great as our home. Maybe even better.”

I just sighed and Dad drove off.

It was about noon when everything was moved to our new home. And what does this mean? I also get to fill in an enrolment form for my new school. How exciting! Actually, I’m sick of filling forms. It felt like I need to fill out a new enrollment form every six to months since my parents keep on moving houses like this.

“Here you go honey,” my mum handed me the form. “Fill your details out, on the bench in the kitchen since everything is still everywhere, and tomorrow we’ll drive you to your new school.”

I reluctantly took the form and sighed, “Mum, you don’t have to drive me to school anymore. I can go on my bike, by myself. I think I’m old enough now.”

“Don’t worry,” she smiled at me again. “Your dad and I got everything sorted out already. So we’ll drive you to school tomorrow.”

I was too tired to argue back and slightly nodded, “Kay.”

“Mary, do you know where the hammer is?” Dad called out. “I need to put this picture up.”

Mum turned to his direction and called back, “It should be in that blue box!”

“Where?”

The next thing you know, I heard a loud crash. Great. Did Dad just fell down?

Mum gasped and quickly ran over to where he was, which I think was near the staircase. "Just fill in the form dear, I'll take care of your dad."

I sighed, My wonderful parents.

I went over to the kitchen table; pulled a wooden stool out of one of the boxes; and sat down, uncomfortably.

Just when I was about to lift my pen to write my name in the boxes, I heard another loud crash.

I glanced up and ran over to where my parents were. I stood there seeing Dad struggling to stand up; Mum, on the other hand, was having a difficult time helping him.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I think he just twisted his ankle.” My mum answered, worriedly.

“I’ll go get the ice pack.”

But then I remembered something. We just moved houses and the fridge is not plugged to the electricity because the electricity company said that they’ll be connecting our house tomorrow. This meant that the ice pack that should be in the fridge was currently unavailable. Meaning there was no ice pack. Great!

“Mum!” I called out. “There’s no ice pack!”

This time, I heard her let out a sigh, “Juliet, could you go to the shops and buy one? I’ll try to get your dad to a tap to cool his ankle down.”

Quickly, I took my keys off the coffee table and moved to the door. “Okay! I’ll be back soon.”

Closing the front door, I glanced back and stared at it for a while. Guess, you’re my new home now.

I looked over to the other side and saw another family moving in. The truck was slowing moving backwards as it beeped loudly with orange lights flashing. There was a man waving his hands in the air, suggesting the driver to move in a bit more. But when he signalled to stop, the truck driver didn’t see him and slightly hit the fence, knocking the rubbish bins over like an earthquake.

I shook my head. That’s bad. But as I remembered how badly my dad’s ankle would be if I didn’t get the ice pack fast, I dashed to the closest supermarket by running.

Finally, I was at the supermarket. I walked in and felt the breeze-like air conditioning when the automatic doors opened. I looked around, seeing many people doing their last minute groceries since today is a Sunday.

Walking around, I scanned through the aisles but still couldn’t find it. Where is it?

Then I started to wonder off a bit. So instead of moving to the frozen section, I moved to the fruit section. After a while of moving here and there, like I was having a self-tour in the supermarket, I found the ice cream brands and smiled, “Found you!” I said out loud.

Everyone looked at me.

I lowered my head and walked over to the frozen section. That was embarrassing. Looking at the shelves, I smiled to myself, I’ve finally found it!

But there was a guy standing there, looking at the ice pack section. He seemed like he was my age. But who cares about him. I shrugged and lowered my head seeing the last ice pack on the frozen shelf. I smiled as I picked it up, thinking how lucky I was to have the last ice pack. But as I did, the brunet guy also picked it up.

I glanced down at my hand, seeing his hand also holding onto the ice pack. I lifted my head and looked directly into his glacier blue eyes, “Sorry, I really need this for an emergency.”

He looked at me confused, “But I was here first.”

I stared at him, trying to pull the ice pack closer to me, “But I picked it up first.”

He didn’t answer me but tried to pull it closer to him.

“Wait,” I paused, “I really, really need it,” I said, trying to sound calm—but was still desperate for it.

He pulled it back, “I really need it too. It’s for an emergency as well.”

“Does your emergency involves a life and death situation?”

He stared at me for a few moments and answered, “Yeah.”

He’s definitely lying. I pulled the ice pack closer, “But I’m pretty sure that my emergency is much more important than yours.”

He pulled it back, “But how would you know that?”

My anger management issues began to stir like a spicy hot pot ready to be boiled, “I really, really, really need it.” And I couldn’t hold myself together any longer. I lowered my head and quickly before anyone else sees, I kicked him in the shin.

He reacted.