Linda! Please come here for a second," said my mom.

I went to the kitchen to see what is going on. Every time my mom used that tone, I knew something was wrong.

"What happened mom?"

She looked at me in a not so pleasant face. I could feel the depressing tension as soon as I walked in. The dishes were on the floor and the mail was out of place. Anyone could tell that my mother was stress because everyone knew she was a clean freak. I put down my Gucci bag on the table and took off my Lauren London shoes. I tried to look into her eyes but she turned her head ever so sharply.

"Linda, I lost my job and I can't get the payments right away so we need to move to Brooklyn."

My mouth dropped as soon as I heard her say we were moving to Brooklyn. I couldn't believe the words that just come out of her mouth. It was like I almost had a heart attack.

"Are you kidding me! There is no way I am leaving California. All my friends are here and I just made fashion editor for the school magazine! I can't mom!" I was so upset my throat was sore. Tears came falling down my cheeks as if it was a race track.

My mom looked to the floor guilty and tried to make this positive as possible but it didn't work.

"I know but this is what we have to do."

My mom started to cry but hold her tears in for me not to see. I felt kind of guilty after that so I just kept my feelings about me moving to myself. I text my friends and told them my final goodbye. The fingers on the key board hurt the most and the pictures I had to put away killed my thoughts softly. I tried to recover but the clothes and life style got to my heart quickly. I hated moving to Brooklyn but like mom said, I had no choice.

As soon as I got to Brooklyn, I lost my sense of self. The tall big buildings scared me to the floor as I looked up. The writings on the wall looked dirty, as if everybody had written it. It had so many gums on the floor as if a memorial was made for the food. It was so sticky and dirty that I had to take a shower as soon as I got to the apartment. When the taxi driver stopped. The building looked better than the ones I seen. But not as good as the California pint house and the tall beautiful palm trees. When I headed on the street, everyone was staring at me. No matter what I did, it ended up being wrong. My new school was no different. As soon as I stepped in there every single person was staring at me as if I came from planet legally blond. I looked for my locker and put my new books inside. I strolled inside the hall and felt so uncomfortable. All kids were talking about me as soon as I walked in the class room. Two black girls with bamboo earrings and tight leggings whispering to each other at me in a not so nice way.

"What is snow white doing here?" says a girl name Angela.

The other girl looked at me up and down.

"I don't know but she doesn't belong here."

I don't know what was their problem and even if I tried to be nice. They would still be mean.

"Why does everyone hate me?" I said confused.

The girl looked at me in a rude expression.

"Because you're different."

"So that doesn't mean they should hate me."

She turned over and started to laugh.

"Because nobody wants to hang out with a spoiled Malibu Barbie."

I felt hurt when she said that, I didn't get why people judge me before getting to know me. I really felt alone and was tired of sticking out so I went home and change my whole outlook of myself. I bought myself some new clothes and started wearing outfits just like in the rap videos. I even got myself a hand book on how to talk black or in slang language. As soon as I changed my whole persona, girls started to like me. I had all the boys talking to me and even this one boy was catching my eye. His name was Termaine and he was the hottest boy in school. I tried to get to know him and express my feelings to him but all he did was looked at me weird. He would turn around and forgot I even existed.

"Hey Termaine," I said while flirting.

He looked away in disgust.

"Whatever."

I thought to myself, what I can do to make him pay attention. I felt like a door mat. So I went straight home and wrote him a nasty text message. It was so nasty that it was worse than a porn magazine. I sent it to him writes away and when I was done. I thought it wouldn't get any worse until I headed to school. Everybody was talking about the text message and the white chocolate fling. People were intrigued just because of the text message and our different races. People were surprised it came from a white girl let alone it being a message to him. But they liked it and boys wanted a piece of it. I was so embarrassed that I left school early. I was about to make it to my car until this random boy grabbed me.

"Hey what's up Shorty?"

He looked at me and licked his lips. I slapped his hand and walked away.

"What do you want?" I said, in a rude tone.

"I just want to talk to you," he said with his rapist eyes.

"Why you didn't before," I tried to close the door but he stopped it, jumped inside and said.

"Because I like a girl with sexual benefits."

I was so offended that I slapped the heck out of him and pushed him off me. I started to run away until this mysterious car pulled up. I looked in it and it was Termaine, blasting his music and lowering his cap.

"Jump in."

He drove his car somewhere and headed by the corner. He put the car in park and took his hand and started to kiss me. He pulled his tongue out and looked at me with his clean cut braids and puppy brown dog eyes. His coco skin glowed in the light and made him the teen sensation.

"Only live for you, stop trying to impress everyone."

He wiped his mouth ever so slowly.

"What if they don't like me?"

"Forget them, only you can make yourself happy."

He kneeled over and tried to kiss me again until I pushed him away because he was right after all. I didn't need him or them to make me happy.