This book... Holy cow, how do I describe the emotions that have come from this story?
Brooke literally broke me. Her bravery, her tenacity, her positive outlook, her integrity. She truly embodies the modern Cinderella in a way I've never explored before.
I hope you love this book as much as I do. It's grittier--still clean--but boy does Brooke's story rip your heart out and then piece it back together again. This is for all the girls who are hiding harder lives than anyone can fathom. You are seen. You are loved. Hang in there. It will get better.
The Shattered Slipper.
Could you walk a mile in Brooke's shoes?
Here's the ebook link!
Here is an excerpt from the book. The first two chapters:
“The caged bird sings with a fearful
trill, of things unknown, but longed for still, and his tune is heard on the
distant hill, for the caged bird sings of freedom.”
Writer Maya Angelou
CHAPTER ONE:
I walked into the school and let out a
pent-up sigh of relief. I was here. Finally. Why did it always have to be some
ultimate goal just to make it to school? Why couldn’t I wake up like everyone
else and beg to stay in bed and get a day off?
Ugh. That type of thinking was going
to get me nowhere fast. I shook my head as I went to my locker. Several people
smiled at me and said hi. I had no idea what half of their names were, and
honestly, I probably would never learn before I graduated in May. I mean, I’ve
gone this long faking I know all these people, what’s eight more months?
“Brooke!” Alicia laughed as she
approached. She was the closest thing to a best friend I had. Yeah, a friend
who’d never actually been to my house. However, I’d been to hers a few times
over the years. She pumped my arm. “I just heard the greatest news! You’re
going to die!”
“What?” Usually phrases like—"greatest”
and “going to die”—actually meant I’d want to die. My life was so screwed up that
whenever something good happened I had to brace myself for what it’d cost me to
enjoy it.
Alicia paused in the busy hallway. “I
know I should wait until it’s announced during homeroom and let you find out
like everyone else, but I saw the paper Principal Andrews was carrying and your
name was in this huge red ink and it was there glaring me in the face and so—”
“What? Just tell me!”
“Homecoming Queen. You made Homecoming
Queen!” She started freaking out right there in the middle of the hallway while
I was trying desperately not to hyperventilate.
No. No. No. This can’t be happening.
Not now. Not after all this time I’ve tried to stay on the down low. I really
can’t take this right now. “Shhh! Stop telling everyone!”
“I’m not.” She looked around the area
and then shrugged. “I doubt anyone heard me anyway.”
“I hope not.” Homecoming Queen was the
last thing I needed anyone talking about.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just—” I just what? What
could I tell her that she’d believe? “I don’t think I’ll be in town.”
“Oh, lame. Why? What’s going on? Does
your mom have another convention to go to?”
She remembered the same lie I used to
tell her in junior high when she’d ask to come to my house. “Yes! I think so.”
Alicia looked at me funny and then
started to head to class. I followed. “Well, I still think it’s cool, even if
you don’t,” she threw over her shoulder.
“I just feel bad I won’t be able to
accept it…” I trailed off. “It needs to go to someone who can appreciate it
anyway.” I glanced around the area. “Where was Principal Andrews going when you
saw her last?”
Alicia stopped and turned around. “To
her office, I think, why?”
“I’m going to talk to her. I’ll catch
you later.” I gave a short wave.
“But wait! Don’t ruin it. What if your
mom’s convention is later?”
“I’m sure it won’t be.” I headed down
the hall. “Thanks for letting me know,” I said as I glanced back.
Alicia looked like I’d just hit her
over the head with my purse.
I took a deep breath and pasted a
smile on my face. I’d mastered looking completely calm and unphased when I was
nine. That little trick had saved me more times than I wanted to count.
Without hesitation I walked past the
secretary and knocked on the principal’s open door. She was sitting and her
back was to me and she was reading an email when she turned and gestured for me
to come into the room.
“Hi, Brooke. What can I do for you?”
I laughed as my chest began to
tighten. “I heard the craziest rumor and was hoping you’d tell me it wasn’t
true.”
Principal Andrews tilted her head.
“What’s that?”
“Did I make Homecoming Queen?”
“Well!” She looked taken aback. “I
don’t know where you heard that, but yes, you did.”
“Then I’m so glad I found you!” I
gushed, probably a little too much, but I had to hide my growing panic somehow.
“I-I won’t be there. I’m going away that weekend. Could you give the title to
someone else?”
“Brooke?” She blinked. “Are you certain?”
I pulled out my phone and acted like I
was looking at my calendar. “Yep. I’ll be in New York with my mother. I’m so sorry.
But I’m happy you haven’t announced it yet.”
“We could hold onto the award and give
it to you at an assembly later.”
“I—no!” I smiled. “Don’t worry about
it. What’s the big deal anyway?” I waved my hand like getting a crown and being
presented during the Homecoming game wasn’t one of high school’s greatest
honors. “Think of it this way, someone else is going to be so happy.”
“Brooke, stuff like this looks really
good on your college applications and getting those scholarships.”
Dang it. I hadn’t thought about that.
And yet, the thought of standing in front of all those people with my mom next
to me, just didn’t—it really wouldn’t work. “I know. And hopefully, it’ll help
whoever you choose as your queen, but it can’t be me. Thank you so much.”
“Hey, the student body voted, the
staff only picked the most deserving students, your classmates did the rest.
“That means a lot.” And it did. So
much. Everything I’d worked toward for years proved how much this meant. But I
couldn’t accept. Or everything I’d worked for would be gone. In a snap. “I wish
I was going to be here. But this New York trip has been planned for months.”
“I see.” The principal looked like she
really didn’t see at all. “Well, I guess we’ll adjust our announcement. Thanks
for letting me know.”
It wasn’t until that second, when I
felt my knees begin to shake, I realized how close I’d been to the edge. Stuff
like that really stressed me out. To the max. “No problem.” I didn’t look back
as I walked out of the room and headed to my class. Homeroom would be next hour
and once the new announcement was made then I’d be able to fully relax again. …Well,
until I made it home.
As I walked out of the office my mind
was so preoccupied with everything I wasn’t sure how long Asher had been
calling my name, but by the sound of his last, “Brooke!” it had been some time.
I quickly turned around to see him
coming up behind me. “Sorry! Have you been calling me? I didn’t hear you.”
“It’s okay.” He stopped next to me and
then just stared. As in right at me.
Asher Bronson was the equivalent of
the all-American boy at our school. Baseball, basketball, soccer—and yes, he
even played quarterback for the football team during junior high. He was also,
unfortunately super nice. And I’d secretly had a crush on him since seventh
grade. Bad, like—bad. Bad. Bad. And
if rumors (or wishes) were true, apparently, he’d had a crush on me since that
long too. Except, nothing had ever happened. Nothing. Ever. Until then.
As in that exact moment.
He grinned this adorable grin and ran
his hand through his dark hair and then his green eyes met mine. Wham. I
smiled, but my insides were literally exploding. I didn’t know if that’s a
thing or not, but it sure felt exactly like they were.
“So, I’m glad I caught you alone,”
Asher said.
I tried not to gulp. “You are?”
“Yeah. Are you going with someone to Homecoming?”
I died. Like, seriously. I sloshed
right into a puddle of giddiness right there in my high school hallway. “Um,
no.” And then I remembered, and my sloshy giddiness turned into a dark puddle.
“But I’m-I’m-not going.”
“Oh. You don’t want to?”
“No!” There was no place I wanted to
be more than at Homecoming with Asher Bronson. I’d like dreamed of that day
millions of times. “I’d love to go. I’ve just—I’m going—I’ll be…” For the life
of me I couldn’t remember what my stupid lie was. Gah. “Oh! I’m going to New
York that weekend with my mom.”
“Hey, wow! That sounds way better than
Homecoming.”
“Right?” My smile was back. I waited
for him to ask me out again, or say something else, anything. But he didn’t.
Asher sort of nodded his head and then
gave me a short wave and was gone. I almost went after him and stopped the
whole plan and told everyone I was going, just so he and I—just so we could see
if there was anything. But… I resisted. I remained strong.
In homeroom when Asher Bronson and
Lexi Coleman were announced Homecoming King and Queen, my smile slipped
slightly. Not because I wasn’t happy for Lexi—I was really happy for her—only
because Asher and I, we could’ve... never mind. Now, because of my choices,
someone else would go with him.
After school, my silly heart dropped
when I overheard Lexi bragging in the parking lot how Asher had asked her to Homecoming.
I would’ve walked a little slower and relived the sadness of it all, but I had
to make it to the elementary school in time to get Skye and Dawn, my little
sisters.
“Hi, Brooke!” Skye ran up and hugged
me outside their building. “Look! I lost another tooth!” She jumped up and
down. The braids I had done up earlier were completely coming out, but she
looked cute anyway.
“That’s awesome!” I gave her a high
five. “Don’t lose that tooth.”
“I know. Mrs. Davis said to keep it in
the bag and tell Mom so she can call the Tooth Fairy tonight.” Her toothless smile
was so big, she was so excited. “Do you think the Tooth Fairy will give me a
dollar?”
I never got a dollar from the Tooth
Fairy. Not once did she come and get my teeth. Never. No matter how many times
I told my mom. I couldn’t let that happen to my sisters too. When I was eleven,
I became the Tooth Fairy for Dawn and now I was the Tooth Fairy for Skye too.
I ruffled her bangs as I hid a lump in
my throat. “We’ll see,” I managed to choke out. I was all they had.
No one could know that I ran the
house. That I cooked, cleaned, paid the bills, did the shopping—bathed,
homework, story time—everything with my sisters. No one could know that my life
wasn’t as awesome as they thought. If anyone saw through my mask to the truth,
my life would be over. Me and my sisters would be turned over to the state and separated.
And nothing was worth that. So, I worked my butt off making sure our lives
looked as normal and happy as possible. Including working to make sure I had
cash to give Mom too.
Mom was a drunk. Sometimes I thought
of it as depressed, or working through things, or someone with challenges, but
really—she just preferred to drink than to live. I preferred to live. So, I
made sure we did. Even if I had to sacrifice insignificant stuff like Homecoming
to do so.
Later that night after I’d washed the
dishes and put my sisters in bed and listened for my mom to come home, I
regretted it. Really, really regretted everything. However, I mostly resented
my life. It wasn’t something I complained about often, but I was tired. My days
were long, and my sisters were exhausting. There would never be New York. There
would never be Homecoming. There would never be Asher. And for about thirty
minutes I allowed myself to cry. It was stupid, I know, but I needed it
somehow.
CHAPTER TWO:
I woke up the next morning and
realized I hadn’t heard Mom come home the night before. It was unusual for her
to be out all night during a weekday. It was her favorite stunt for the
weekend. No contact, just gone. But she usually came home for a few hours each
night during the week.
I saw my wallet on my nightstand and
quickly checked it. Whew. The EBT card and government assistance card were
still there. I fingered through the cash I’d been given in tips. As long as my
mom had cash with her, she never came after the government cards. The cards we
actually needed to live.
I had it broken down to a science.
Each utility bill, each dollar, it all went somewhere. We didn’t have a car, so
that helped a lot. Mom relied on her friends to take her places. And
thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about DUIs or car accidents either. Under the
circumstances, I’d much rather prefer to walk.
Everyone just assumed it was part of my
fitness routine to walk everywhere and I even had jogging outfits to make it
seem legit. I’d become a master of thrift store shopping when I was about
twelve. By the time I was fourteen I’d watched enough YouTube videos and
learned how to repurpose clothes so well that no one could tell it didn’t come
from a name brand store. Even my mom thought it was cool. I remember the day
she was with it enough to ask me about an outfit I’d created.
“Hey, where’d you get that shirt?” Mom
was drinking coffee and staring at me from the kitchen table.
I wasn’t used to Mom talking to me
when she had a hangover. Surprised, I looked down to see which shirt she was
talking about. “I made it.”
“You made it? As in sewed the whole
thing?”
I held it out from the hem and looked
at it. “No, I found a large shirt at the thrift store, then cut it down and
created one my size.” Okay, I did a lot more than that, but there was no reason
to go into it all.
Mom’s eyebrow rose. “Well, it’s really
pretty.”
“Thank you.” I had glowed under the rare
praise.
“Do you think you could make one for
me sometime?” She took another sip of coffee and then sat her mug down.
At first, I was too shocked to speak.
She must’ve really liked the shirt. “Sure! I’d love to. I probably have a few
blouses we could look at already—if you’re interested?”
She nodded her head slowly. “Yeah.
That sounds fun. Let me take a nap and we’ll work on the shirt later today.”
“Okay.”
I’d gathered everything up and got my
supplies ready and waited for a few hours. When mom had finally woken up, she
spent the next hour or so in the bathroom and then left the house. I realized
she’d forgotten all about the shirt. So, I decided to make her a few anyway and
give them to her as Christmas presents. I was already working on new clothes
for my sisters to get from Santa. It wasn’t that hard to make something for Mom
too.
Wow. The memories of that Christmas
three years ago flooded back. That was a hard year. I closed my eyes again and
rolled over. I had spent every last dime of my babysitting money, as well as
used up the full food stamp card for Christmas dinner and breakfast and even
splurged on buying ingredients for homemade baking. I didn’t have money for Mom
to use that week for going out. She was so angry. Especially Christmas morning
when she saw the gifts the girls got.
She didn’t realize how it was all my
money. She was convinced I’d used up her cards to shop for them. Most of it was
stuff I had repurposed, even a pretty storage bench I’d cleaned for their toys
and a small bookshelf I got from a yard sale that I brought home and repainted
while they were asleep. They didn’t even recognize it as the same shelf they’d
helped me carry home several weeks earlier. And unfortunately, neither did Mom.
I don’t think I’d ever been yelled at
like I was that morning. I’m pretty sure there’s a limit to how many times a
fourteen-year-old girl could be called selfish, before she literally broke
down. After Mom stormed out of the house, I slowly folded up and put away my
empty stocking–not that I’d been expecting anything, I just—the selfish word
hurt so much that year. My hands shook as I cleaned up breakfast. As soon as I was done, I made it to my room,
curled up on the floor and just rocked. I don’t know why I rocked, but I did.
When I’d came out later, the girls had
propped Mom’s presents from the three of us, and those they had made at school,
up at her place on the table, including the wrapped new blouses I’d made for
her. She would find them later. Then I helped them carry the bookshelf into
their room and decorate it. Dawn hugged me a lot that day. I didn’t know
whether to be grateful someone cared, or mortified she thought I needed extra
hugs.
There are certain days you plan for
weeks and you’re so excited and have such high expectations to how that day
will go. I think that was my downfall. The expectation that those days would be
different from the rest. That if I did so many things, and created the perfect
atmosphere, everything would be happy and wonderful, and we’d laugh and…
I completely failed on those days.
Those days were the worst. Those expectations, they really turned around to
stab you in the back, or chest, or head… whatever would do the most damage.
“Brooke!” Skye burst into my room. Her
dark hair in total disarray and she was nearly in tears. In her hand was a
small plastic bag. “The Tooth Fairy didn’t come! Look!”
Oh, no! I’d completely forgotten while
I wallowed in my own self-pity last night. “I’m so sorry! I forgot to have Mom
call the Tooth Fairy. It’s entirely my fault. She just didn’t know to come
here. I’ll be sure to write Mom a note while you get dressed so she can call
the Tooth Fairy while you’re at school.”
“Will you?” Skye brightened. “Thank
you!”
“Put the bag back under your pillow,
so you don’t forget.”
Skye ran from the room while I facepalmed.
It was not a good start to the morning.
Our day only got worse from there.
Dawn came in and showed me the new hole she’d ripped into the crotch of her
jeans, which meant we’d have to make a stop at the thrift store that afternoon
after school. Skye spilled a ton of cereal all over the floor, when she knocked
the box down. And the shirt I’d hoped to wear was still in the washing machine.
After tearing through my closet and getting the girls ready, I had no time to
put on my usual makeup. Instead, I grabbed my cosmetics bag and shoved it in my
backpack, then quickly gripped the girls’ backpacks and headed out the door.
“Come on, we’re going to be late!”
Dawn had changed into a simple dress,
but she wasn’t too thrilled with it. “Do I have to wear this? I’m in sixth
grade. This is so embarrassing.” she muttered as I tugged her out the door.
“I promise we’ll head to the thrift
store for more pants.” I’d held off getting jeans for Dawn this year, mainly
because she was starting to eat a ton, which I figured would mean she’d begin
growing soon. What’s the point of buying something if you’ll grow out of it in
a week? Needless to say, that would be why she’d slowly ruined every single pair
of jeans she had. That and I was playing Russian roulette and attempting to
hang on to my next paycheck, which obviously wasn’t going to happen.
“Skye! Come on!” I called to her as
Dawn tried to come back in the house. “Where are you going? Did you forget
something?”
“My library book.”
“What?” I’d forgotten today was
library day. “Hang on. You stay there. I’ll be right back with your book.” As I
walked in the house I saw that Skye was in the bathroom. So, as I collected the
book, I also went ahead and snuck the dollar under her pillow and quickly
stuffed the bagged tooth into the pocket of my jeans. Who cares if it wasn’t at
night. As far as I was concerned it happened. Skye would find it later and be
happy and never guess it was me.
By the time we’d all made it out the
door and started heading toward the elementary school, we were ten minutes
later than usual. Which meant we had to move it. I grabbed each of their hands
and began to speed walk around the corner and down the busy street toward the
school.
I was about to congratulate myself on
how much time we were making up, when all of the sudden the clouds broke over
our heads. Literally one of the biggest rainstorms started up and I groaned. We
had nothing. Not one jacket, umbrella, pair of boots for the mud—nothing.
“It’s raining!” Dawn gasped.
Skye ran ahead. “Wahoo! This is the
best day ever!”
“Skye, wait! Cars won’t be able to see
you. Stay here with me!”
It was as I was just about to run
after Skye that Asher pulled up in his Jeep. I’d recognize the orange vehicle
anywhere. He rolled down his window. “Hey, do you guys need a ride?”
“We’re fine.” I smiled and glanced
down the sidewalk. Skye had stopped and starting spinning in the rain. “We’re
just heading to school, it’s no big deal.”
He wasn’t convinced. “Get in. I’ll
take them to the elementary. Then we’ll worry about you later.”
“Are you sure? I definitely don’t want
to bug you.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “Are you always
this stubborn?”
“Skye!” I called, so I didn’t have to
answer. “Skye, Asher is going to give us a ride.” I pushed Dawn toward the Jeep
while Skye came skipping back to us. Her hair was already soaked.
“Who’s Asher?” Dawn asked, her eyes
wide as she climbed into the back of the Jeep.
“He’s a friend from school,” I replied.
Asher’s eyes caught mine and I felt a jolt. In five years I’d never felt like
this around him. Crush and awkward and could barely make eye contact—but never
like this. Like, we were connecting somehow.
“And who are you?” he asked Dawn as I
reached down and pushed Skye into the Jeep.
“I’m Dawn, Brooke’s sister. And this
is Skye.”
“Nice to meet you.” He grinned at them
before watching me climb into the seat.
“You’re really cute,” Skye announced.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Yes,” I said with a glare of warning
to her.
“Actually, no.” He put the Jeep in
gear and pulled out onto the road.
“But I thought you and Lexi…” I
trailed off.
He looked at me funny. “Just because I
asked someone to a dance doesn’t mean I’m dating them, or whatever.”
“Right. Of course not.” I ran my
fingers through my damp hair and reminded myself not to act like such a moron.
“If you weren’t planning on being out
of town and we went to Homecoming, you wouldn’t consider us to be boyfriend and
girlfriend, would you?”
Could my face get any redder? “Look,
point taken. Thank you.”
Asher laughed. “Girls are so weird.”
I looked over at his profile and then
toward the road but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t worth it to argue.
“Brooke isn’t weird,” Dawn said.
“She’s amazing.”
“Are you amazing?” Asher grinned
again.
I snorted and kept my gaze out the
window. “Far from it.”
“What are you then?”
“Just a girl trying to keep her head
down and graduate high school.”
“Brooke is teaching me to read!” Skye
started to bounce in her seat. “And she helps me with my homework and she cooks
me yummy food.”
Dawn decided to jump in too. “And she
sews cool clothes too!”
“Wow, you are amazing.” Asher nudged me with his elbow, like I was his best
bud or something.
That small contact zinged its way up
to my neck and back. Asher Bronson just called me amazing. He more than likely
said it because he was teasing me, but he said it.
He pulled up to the elementary school
drop off. I got out of my seat to let them out. The rain was still coming down
pretty hard. Both girls said goodbye to him like he was their most favorite
person ever and then ran into the school. Early. Thanks to Asher.
If I thought it was awkward to sit
next to him with my sisters with us, it was ten times odder without them. I
couldn’t bring myself to climb back in. “Thank you so much. You saved us.”
“Where are you going?” he asked. “It’s
still raining.”
“It’s okay. I can walk. I like the
rain.”
He looked at me for a few long seconds
before he shook his head. “You know, Brooke Whitman, I’ve known you for years,
but I had no idea until now how scared you were.”
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