“But I don’t want to move again,” Chloe screamed, stomping out of the living room and slamming her door as she ran into her bedroom. 

This would be the fourth time Chloe had to move because she was an Army brat. She didn’t want to be an Army brat anymore. Once she asked her mom why the word “brat,” but her mom, who was a doctor for the military, didn’t know and suggested Chloe look it up. Apparently, it used to be a name given to those who traveled with the military overseas. It stood for “British Regiment Attached Traveler,” and it was later shortened to “brat” and has just stuck. So, there you have it. There was no getting around it. She was a brat. At only eleven years old, she had lived in five states. Moving sucked.

Staring at the wall, she thought about all her former best friends: Ella in Georgia, Katie and Olivia in Texas, and now it seemed that Mia, her current best friend in Louisiana, would be added to that list.