The Arranged Series

Arranged

Arranged

(Short story 1 of 5)

By: Katie Wright

            “Brooklyn, come here please.” My mother said to my four year old self, while holding my baby sister.

            “Yes, mommy?” I asked batting my big eye lashes.

            “Come meet our neighbors. This is Mr. and Mrs. Jordan and their children Brantley and Kelsie.”

            “Hello.” I stated shyly, hiding behind my mothers leg.

            My dachshund, Pippa, barking brought me back to reality. I had been reliving the memory, of when I met my best friends, that got me through some hard times, since my father told my mother, sister and I about his job transfer to Dallas.

            I should tell you a little about myself before I share part of my life story with you. For starters, my full name is Brooklyn Rose Holden, and I am eighteen years young. I am about five feet and six inches. I have medium dark brown hair, which has natural high lights in the summer, bright blue eyes and perfectly straight, white teeth, that didn’t require braces. As for my personality, I am not a girly-girl, I am far from it, I have a very spunky attitude and I am a positive person. Sometimes, I can be an adrenaline junkie. I love going out getting muddy, sitting around bonfires with all of my friends, during all times of the year and riding horses. My passion for horses and adrenaline led me to become a barrel racer, which my mother isn’t happy about. My family can be extremely crazy, but I love them. My dad is a Neurosurgeon at SetonNorthwestHospital in Austin; technically he now works at BaylorUniversityMedicalCenter. My mother is a third generation, strong willed southern socialite in the city and is a stay at home mom, even though she doesn’t need to be. My sister, Brighton Riley, is fifteen and is a normal teenager who doesn’t like parental control. Brighton is also the complete opposite of me. She is an absolute girly-girl who despises anything that could possibly get her dirty.  The only thing we have in common is she rides horses but only so she can compete in equestrian shows.

            Now back to the story at hand, my mother knocked on my door and opened it without waiting for a reply.

            “Brooklyn, dear I got you new outfit and I would appreciate it you would wear it for dinner tonight. We are having guests over.” She said laying a few bags in my dressing area.

            “Who is coming over, mother?” I questioned

            “The Jordan’s my dear.” When I heat the name Jordan my heat beat picked up and stomach had butterflies fluttering around. You see, I have had a crush on Brantley since grade seven but, I never acted on it, afraid of ruining our friendship. Brantley is the one guy I could be myself around. He is also the guy I ride horses and go muddin’ with. He’s the type of guy that could care less about who you are; he will always say something to you. He is nineteen and has dark brown hair, and is very muscular, because he rides bulls and broncos.

            By the time I was done day dreaming of Brantley, I had to get to get ready for supper. Supper in my family was served at 6:30 no later ad no earlier. It was already 4:30, so I hopped into my shower to get ready. When I got out, I dried my hair and curled it into cute spirals. I usually don’t wear make-up but, my mother asked me to. So, I put on a small amount of foundation then put mascara on. I still hadn’t looked at the outfit my mother bought. I was honestly terrified to see what she had bought; even though she knows I never have nor ever will become a girly girl, she tries to force me into pink frilly clothes. I looked into the bags and seen a denim cropped jacket, with a white lace dress. The dress came above right above my knee and was strapless. The other bag had a shoe box, containing a pair of cowgirl boots that I have been wanting. The boots were brown and rustic looking with aqua underlay. I slid my boots on and looked in the mirror. I had to say my mom had done a great job picking out my outfit   I heard a knock on the front door, so I walked out of my bedroom and down the stairs to greet our guests, just as they were entering. Brantley and I locked eyes and his eyes filled with a sparkle, lust, maybe. I walked over to the Jordan’s: