Love and Above

Chapter 1

"You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known—and even that is an understatement." -F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Brooke!" My sister's knocks on the wooden bathroom door were getting louder and louder, but I ignored her as I looked into the wide bathroom mirror, highlighting my face with the new makeup I had bought from the downtown mall that last weekend. With the way she was pounding on the door, I would have believed that she had fifteen splinters and a broken index finger if she screamed it at me. The knocks finally stopped but I hardly noticed the difference, now applying my mascara and drawing on my eyeliner.

"Mom!" My 9 year old sister was now trying to get Mom to open the door. "Stop being a brat, Lily," I said calmly through the wood, not turning my attention away from my face makeup. "I'm almost done anyway."

Lily pounded at the door and screamed for mom to force the door open once more. Mom wasn't having it and clearly was getting annoyed. Not with me, of course. But, instead of telling Lily to shut up and wait her eventual turn, Mom knocked on the door in a simple knock knock and I swung open the door, now with a finished full face of makeup.

"Ah, my beautiful teenager." My mom let out a breath of air. She smiled and lightly pushed Lily into the bathroom. I stepped down our golden trimmed spiral staircase and hopped down onto the cold marble floor with my bare feet. I was greeted by, yet another, middle-aged and good-looking man. He nodded a hello to me and I shook my head and sighed.

When Dad had left, my mom went through a bad stage. She was irritated one day and sweet and cheery the next (which was usually a ploy for us to do something for her later that day) and only left the house to check the mail for any letters from Dad. She never told us, but I know she was hoping he'd send a letter saying he was coming back. Or maybe he was leaving money for us. Either way, he never did send any letter. He didn't even fight for custody.

My grandma ended up guilting my mom back into the dating sea. It was easy for Mom to find guys who would do anything for her looks, her money, and her popularity. What a world. The only thing hard for Mom was choosing her man. Sometimes there's endless choices and possibilities, but you never know when something or someone better will come along.

To make a decision, every day there'd be another guy in our dining area and living room; sometimes a chunky idiot with nothing but money and fame, sometimes a tall, brains-for-braun smarty who lived up in his musty office all day. As long as they weren't horrid to look at, she would try it out.

I learned from the new guy at our table, Michael, that he really believed my mom was a "hell of a cook". I also learned that Michael had won several medals in his day, some for athleticism, some for smarts. Surprisingly, none for "Most Humble of the Year", which was hard to believe, considering the fact that he told me every accomplishment without me saying or asking a word about it.

Once my mom came down, he told her everything that he had told me. After hearing it for the second time, I told him that it's unfair that he hadn't been elected for POTUS. He threw a sharp scowl at me and looked back to stare at my mom with a twinkle in his eye. Classy.

HONK HONK
"See you later Mom," I called as I laced my faux fur boots and practically skipped out the door. Walking out to the 2019 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray, I scrolled down the list of new followers on my Instagram notifications list. I laughed to myself. All I did on Instagram was post my selfies, my makeup and getting ready routine, and my boyfriend's soccer games, and those alone got me 15.6k followers in a matter of months. I was offered money from advertising, but I didn't need the money. Obviously.

I stepped into the passengers seat and put down the mirror to fix my light brown and dirty blond hair. I added a shiny filling gloss to my "Cherry Pucker" lipstick.

"Morning, my princess Brooke," my boyfriend chimed sweetly.
"Morning," I answered and closed out of Instagram.
"How many new followers?"
"Only a couple hundred."
"In a night?"
"Yup."
"That's not too bad," he responded and started to drive.
"Usually there's several hundred. I've been getting around a thousand a week, Milo!" I hissed. He only had 7k followers. He hardly posted. He wouldn't understand.

We drove into the school parking lot, but kept driving. Our high school offered a back parking lot if you had enough money. It was only $50 a week. And it went to a good cause. That made us look good, too. I watched out the window. I rolled down the window to wave to my friends, some talking to each other while walking to the school, others hooking up in the car. I went to roll the window up and I saw a face I've never seen before.

A guy with clear vintage glasses, light green eyed, and an ombré gray hair that shone in the sun. I rolled up my window but kept staring at him. I had no idea who he was, but he looked like no one I had ever seen before.

"Pfft," I giggled to myself. "What a freak."

But I couldn't stop staring.