The Unicorn Gang

“I told you, I don’t care!” The slam of my bedroom door sent a jolt through the cheap wood, leaving a satisfying smirk on my face. Maybe I’d given Dad one more thing to fix before we had to leave. If only my social life could be fixed as easily as the twisted hinges on another forgotten rental. Number ten, to be exact. The tenth time, Mom says, “You get to meet new friends,” and the tenth time she has to remind me, “Don’t forget to say goodbye to your friends.” There was a time when I believed her. When I thought being a military brat was cool, almost like that plastic ID card was a symbol of being special. 

The stuffed unicorn sitting on my bed smiles at me. “You’ve got this, kiddo. You know the drill,” I said aloud, mimicking the colonel’s voice. It sounded suspiciously like Jessica’s. She’d probably just laugh and shove the unicorn under her shirt, roll her eyes back, and pretend she was giving birth to the bright white creature from the magical land of Oz. That was Jess—always turning everything into a joke, even the things that were supposed to matter.

She didn’t even want the stuffed animal, not really. But when she tossed it my way and said, “Keep it. My favorite stuffie to the best member of the group,” something about the way she smiled made me believe her. 

But what does that matter, and what does Jess know, anyway? I only pretended to be her friend so the group wouldn’t kick me out. And seriously, who names their group The Unicorn Gang? 

Someone knocked on the door. I flopped onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow. I wasn’t ready to deal with her. Not now.

“Evie? I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone Lana,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“I’m sorry that Jessica threw you out of her club.” 

Throwing the unicorn against the door, I yelled, “I said leave me alone!”

“Evie, did you tell them you were moving?” Waiting for me to answer, she paused. Taking a breath in the silence, she scratched lightly on the door. “You get in a lot of fights with your friends when we have to move. Will that happen to me when I get older?“

“Go away, Lana!”

“Ok…well, Dad wants us packed by tonight and he said that-“

“I don’t care what Dad said!” I yelled, my voice hitching up an octave. “Go away!” 

I could feel my shoulders tense as my breathing stopped. The room was silent, except for the rhythmic whirl of my fan blades overhead. My gaze fell to my suitcase, the only constant in my life. Its bright red case gleamed, with Micky Mouse smiling back at me. Should I take Unicorn with me? A memento this time? A memento of what? The screaming match with Jess? My chest tightened, and a sharp gasp escaped my lips. 

How long had I been holding my breath?

My eyes glazed over, staring at the ceiling, the memory heating my face.

“We know you were hanging out with Melanie behind our backs,” she said calmly. “You know the rules.” 

“I know, Jess, but I like Melanie and, well, you guys like her now too, so it’s not fair,” I said. 

“But that’s not the point. You lied to us. We can’t have a liar in the gang.”

“I’m not a liar, Jess!”

“What would you call it, Evie?”

“Whatever!” I yelled. “I don’t need this stupid group, anyway!”

I picked up the unicorn off the floor and put it into the open suitcase. Maybe Jess was right. I am a liar. 

There’ll be another Unicorn Gang in New Mexico. Just another group of friends to leave behind. “Whatever,” I muttered, pulling the unicorn out of the suitcase. Moving to my dresser, I yanked out all my clothes and shoved them into Mickey’s dumb face. 

This time we didn’t even get to take the Goodwill Furniture we’d been lugging around for the past couple of moves. I’d kind of gotten used to the chipped dresser and the unmatched nightstands. Jessica had thought it was cool. 

Each dent and scratch held a memory of sightseeing the world, one friend at a time; sledding with Carol over a frozen lake in Virginia, visiting Harpers Ferry with Jenny in Maryland, or the time I told Carol we couldn’t be friends anymore. I never even called Jenny back. Yeah, Jessica thought moving was cool. 

How can one be a part of a group when you only have one suitcase?

“Honey,” came a knock at the door, “let me know if you have any extra room in your suitcase for the top deer antlers of the cuckoo clock.” 

“Go away, Mom.”

I could hear her familiar sigh from the other side of the door. She doesn’t believe in Unicorns. She says they aren’t real. I guess this was becoming the new routine. She thinks every move is a party, pulling out the chips, soda, and candy; rocking out to some old band called Queen. She’s always so…persistent.

“I heard one minute you can go swimming in the valley of Albuquerque and skiing in the mountains the next,” she replied.

“I don’t care.”

“Come on Evie. We get to go on another adventure!” 

“Go away!” I yelled, my throat tightening.

When I was Lana’s age, I would’ve opened the door. Change did feel like an adventure back then, and I always fell for my mom’s perkiness. My favorite was the sourdough from the German bread truck that came every morning when we lived in Landstuhl. The driver would wink as he handed us a loaf still warm from the oven, the tangy smell filling our kitchen. Or those major snow storms in Michigan. Dad would stay home from work and we would walk over to the local university to climb on top of the giant snow sculptures carved by the students. Even Mom, who hated the cold, would laugh as she slid down a frozen slide on the outside of an enormous Darth Vader sculpture.

But things are changing. The fascination turning moldy. A bit of fuzz growing around me with each move. 

Melanie will like the Unicorn Gang, especially the sleepovers. Jess always tells the creepiest ghost stories- always waiting until we’re so tired our eyes won’t stay open, her flashlight casting long, eerie shadows on the walls.

Melanie will fit right in. She moved here about a year ago when her mom changed jobs. I think Jess didn’t like her at first because she thought she was stuck up. Melanie was just shy. It was the first time Melanie had ever moved, and she didn’t really know how to do it—how to pick up and leave everything behind. I guess she never really got used to it the way I did. 

It sounds like her mom likes her new job, so she’ll probably last in the Unicorn Gang. She’s pretty creative and now that she’s fitting in, I think she’ll even get Jack to ask Jess to the fifth-grade dance. Jess says she doesn’t care, but we know she’s lying. 

I grabbed the unicorn and pulled on the tag. Jessica said unicorns were filled with magic and hope. She didn’t give a unicorn to Melanie.

I hate Jessica. 

Shoving the unicorn back into my suitcase, I slammed the lid.