The inevitable had arrived; my family was moving to the sunshine state of California once and for all. Although I had known about the move nearly a year, I dropped into a state of dismay as the move drew closer. I had a long established life in my current home of Minnesota, which I wasn't ready to let go of. Being the timid 13 year-old boy that I was, entering the 7th grade in a new environment was the equivalent of swimming across the Pacific Ocean in my adolescent mind. To make matters worse, the differences between Minnesota and California were infinite. Moving only 15 days prior to the start of school, I took notice at the lack of hospitality compared to "back home". I assumed my attempts at making friends would be useless with these covert people, which almost seemed foreign to me. Little did I know that my soon-to-be best friend was literally right next door.
One searing august afternoon, I was riding my modest 50cc scooter, a prized possession at the time, around my new and unfamiliar street. I was cruising to the top of the hill past my house when I noticed two kids around my age watching intently from their front yard. "Hey", they called out after me. A sigh of relief surged through my body as these potential new friends had for some reason expressed interest in meeting me. They went on to introduce themselves as I shyly responded. It turned out that the older boy, Sasha, was my age and went to the same school but was grade ahead. His younger sister, Mina, was starting her first year at the same school. .
As time passed, I hung out with Sash more and more. He introduced me to his circle of friends, who quickly accepted me as if they had known me before. With no idea of what to expect previous to moving to California, I was pleasantly surprised to quickly find a group of friends. It was a reverie to have friends in which I could relate to so well, especially Sash. Being a lot like myself, in more ways than one, we got along together consistently better than any relationship I had seen or have yet to see.