College is coming soon, and Blake Warner is sure that his life is embedded into the dead-end that is Merritt Hills, Georgia. His mother has assured him millions of times, that money has nothing to do with where his future leads.
But whenever he lie...
| E X P E C T T H E U N E X P E C T E D | • • • 0 . 9
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Helena stood at Brooks' bedroom doorway, her lips spread out into a grin, as she watched him fasten the bowtie she'd picked out for him. Once again, Brooks had found himself sunk back into that same hole.
His parents.
It was the ball's rehearsal dinner, and Brooks had found himself agreeing to he Rosetta's date the night before. The same day he was once again, disappointed in Blake Warren.
His father had smirked, knowing that Brooks would sooner or later, set away his need to rebel, and listen to him for once in blue moon.
If only Charles could look in the mirror, and see what Brooks saw; someone weak, scared, gay, and most-definitely unhappy.
But after the morning before, he couldn't help but wonder if the last trait was actually true. And if it was even considered a trait.
"Come, now, Brooks. Rosetta and her parents are waiting for you downstairs. Wouldn't want to keep the lucky girl waiting, now would we?" Helena seemed happy with the situation, which made all the matters even worse.
Brooks followed Helena down the steps, although, while her's were perky, and expecting, his were sulking themselves down the circular staircase.
When he finally descended, he looked up, to see a seductive Rosetta Fitzgerald, who wore navy blue skin-tight business dress, with her head held high, and smile kept tight.
And Brooks knew exactly which smile she was using. Since, he'd been using it since he was practically born.
"Brooks," she purred, "I'm honored to be accompanied by you at the ball again this year. Sure, last year was a blast, but I'm sure this year could even more spectacular."
Brooks couldn't understand why Rosetta felt the need to make things out to be even better than they ever were. Especially while using words like spectacular.
And sure, she was pretty. But as far as Brooks could tell, she tried her best to come off as her looks, and not the horrible personality lying beneath them.
He took Rosetta's hand, and lead her to the long, and completely full dining table, filled with candidates for Mr and Miss Merritt Hills. Brooks knew what his mother was doing.
She had probably been thinking it out since Brooks had escorted Rosetta just the year before. She had always seen Brooks as a source of power, and never someone to love, cherish, and show compassion for.
And Brooks had figured this out once again, after Helena and another one his aunts, Annabelle had been caught gossiping while intoxicated.
Helena took pride in introducing her son to others who'd been escorting, or escorted. "Mary-May, my son is honored to see you again, aren't you, Brooklyn?"
Brooks almost groaned aloud at his name, and he couldn't help but blame his mother for the way his father had always treated him. Because of course, he'd been given a girls name.
"Of course, Mrs. Fitzgerald. And may, I just, you don't look a day over thirty this evening." Brooks put a smile, as he complimented Rosetta's mother, but of course only looked younger than her real age according to her Botox.
She laughed, planting a hand on Brooks' shoulder. "Oh, Brooklyn, you are just the sweetest. I'm so proud that Rosetta has snagged such a gentlemen for an escort."
"As am I." Brooks' heart plummeted to the ground, at the sound of Rosetta's father rounding the corner, and standing shoulder to elbow with his wife, due to immense height difference.
"Mr. Fitzgerald, it's lovely to see you, as well." He smiled once more, before dismissing himself, and turning to find himself just one more second of alone time, before the night really started.
But on his way into the deserted kitchen, Rosetta followed closely behind him. He tried to wave her off, but she continued to follow. Both her and her distasteful scent of coconut.
She tried to hook an arm through Brooks', but he simply turned the other way, as though not noticing that she'd been there all along.
"Brooks, wait. What the hell is your problem?" Finally, she was able to hook an arm through his, and inevitably stop him from turning another corner.
Brooks sighed in deeply, "I thought we both agreed we wouldn't do this this year. We did this crap last year, and it was awful—and we hated it! Hence the fact that Maryanne Sommers and Jackson Fuller won."
Rosetta shushed him harshly, her face only meaning business. "Maryanne Sommers and her little pet only won because you convinced me to die down on my ballgown. It is your fault—"
"You didn't even want to be there, Rose. You specifically cried to me that day, and said that you'd rather be doing this with Wyatt. What the hell happened to that, huh?" Rosetta took a second, her eyes showing guilt and sadness.
"I-I broke up with him. He was dragging me down, and we both know it. As my mother always tells me, never fall in love with anyone from the other side of the tracks. And Wyatt is literally from the other side of the tracks."
At that moment, Brooks' heart began to pound at the thought of Blake, who too, was from the other side of the tracks. Those same train tracks that separated the west and east side of Merritt Hills, Georgia.
As though on cue, Brooks' mother strutted into the kitchen, her lips pulled into a grin at the sight of the two conversing at their own accord.
