"She's serious?" I laughed, staring at my phone at what the bitch posted about me. She hated me ever since I beat her ass in front of the entire school. She swung at me, hoping to beat me up. Little did she know I was a brown belt in karate. Although in the karate world, that's considered low, it comes in handy in real life. 

Now she took pride in humiliating me online since she was afraid to face me. She does not know that I don't feel humiliated; she makes my day most of the time. Now, she was accusing me of sleeping with three guys at the school. In her face, I did, and they gave me the best orgasms I've ever had. I don't know why slut shaming is still a thing. 

The school year started just a week ago, and already, there's been a lot of drama. I'm feeling the need for a fresh start - I spent my entire junior year in Vegas and am ready to move on. My mom is a research scientist, so we move around a lot, but I don't mind. It means that every one to two years, I get to be a different person and meet new people. I hoped we'd get reassigned this year, as I didn't like Vegas and felt out of place. I'm excited to start anew somewhere else. Maybe I'll try playing soccer this year; I want to be more athletic since my mom says I've been gaining weight from sitting around all day.

I scrolled past her Instagram post and continued looking at what my fellow classmates shared. Some people need to realize that no one cares about their activities. I felt annoyed and exhaled loudly at what I was seeing. Suddenly, my mom walked into the kitchen with a sad expression. "What's wrong, Mom?" I asked her with concern.

"The company just called," she said with a frown. This could only mean one thing—we were moving. A smile appeared on my face. 

"You mean I get to leave all these stupid lights?" I asked her. 

"Yes," my mom enjoyed it here. She had unlimited access to clubs when she wasn't doing her research. "They're transferring me to Alabama out of all places," she said, running her fingers through her dark hair and walking to the fridge. For once in my life, I was a little nervous about a move. My mom and I have lived in multiple different places, but not a place like Alabama. They usually transferred her to big cities like New York, Manhattan, Miami, Orlando, Chicago, Los Angeles, Hollywood, and so on.

I did not hear the best things about Alabama from my history classes, and us being black did not make me feel any better. "Mom, the KKK is going to kill us," I told her. She started laughing, holding onto her stomach. 

"We're not moving to these farms, or where the rednecks live, we are moving to Daphne, Alabama. It's a beautiful place," she exclaimed. I opened my Google app and searched for the city I would live in for the following year. The results I received looked positive enough, it looked like a beautiful place with a few tourists attractions. 

"It looks cool," I said, placing my phone down. "So, when are we leaving this ugly place?" I asked with a grin. My mother huffed and sat across from me.

"Next week," she replied. I quickly got up. " Where are you going?" she asked me. 

"According to my Instagram, Meghan is at the mall; since I am leaving this place, I am going to beat her ass up," I said with a bright smile, referring to the girl who would not stop talking trash about me. 

"Bianca," my mom called me, "sit your butt down," I silently obeyed her and took a seat. "Fighting is not always the answer," she said. 

"Then what is the answer, Mom?" I questioned. My relationship with my mom was more like a friendship than a traditional mother-daughter bond. We were each other's confidants and talked about everything. She played many roles in my life, including being my mom, dad, role model, best friend, and everything in between. She meant the world to me.

"I've been working on new research that could teach a mean girl a lesson," she began. "But that's not the solution to our problem. We're leaving in a week, why not just forget about her? We'll get to start fresh soon, and she's not worth the trouble, hon."

I hated it when she was right. I could be hot-tempered and not think about the consequences of my actions. No matter how much I wanted to fight Meghan, that would not solve the problem. She was a bully, plain and simple, and she was not worth the trouble. "You're right, "I told my mom. She smiled at me and went into the other room.

'''''

My mom and I spent the next few days packing our belongings for the move. We shipped some of our stuff ahead since we were going to drive there. We enjoyed going on road trips as they allowed us to explore new places and strengthen our bond. As we left Las Vegas, I watched the bright lights and fake people disappear. I wondered if I would ever return to this place, but I hoped I would not have to.

We had already moved to our new house within two weeks, anticipating a new life. Our new home, a two-story beauty in a middle-class neighborhood, is light blue. Interestingly, this was the fifth time my house had been painted blue. "Bianca, the door!" my mom echoed from her lab. I was too distracted with my show to hear the doorbell. 

I got up from my chair and strolled towards the door. When I opened it, a lady stood holding what looked like a freshly baked pie. "Hi," I said, unsure of what to say next. I had never had someone show up at my house with a pie before, but I guess that's the South for you.

"I'm your neighbor," she said. Her voice sounded normal, unlike the thick Southern accents I expected everyone here to have. She sounded like she could be from up north, maybe New York. "I live across the street." She pointed at the house opposite ours, which was painted in a vibrant shade of pink. As I looked at the house, I noticed someone staring out of the second-floor windows, looking at us. I couldn't see everything clearly, but I could make out that it was a boy around my age. I wondered if we would attend the same school.

"Who is at the door?" my mom asked as she approached. "Hello, I'm Patricia, and this is my daughter, Bianca," my mom introduced herself.

"I'm Katlyn," she said, handing the pie to my mom. My mom politely thanked her.

"Welcome to Daphne," she said, her smile radiating warmth and making us feel instantly at home in this new place.