Brooklyn looked down at Stacey’s face and saw her own. She saw her beautiful high cheekbones, long eyelashes, almond-shaped eyes, caramel complexion, and her perfectly full lips. Actually, Brooklyn saw the way she used to look, instead of her thin facial structure and the red blotches that covered her sunken cheeks. She didn’t see her tired eyes and the dark circles underneath them. Neither did she see her dry, cracked lips, nor her hair that was as coarse as a Brillo pad.
The beautiful woman that she used to be had disappeared. Even if she quit shooting and inhaling all of the poison she did daily, that woman could never return. So what could she do? At that moment she wished she was the one dying instead of Stacey, but then her life would most likely have been spared. Death was something she’d stared in the eye on many occasions, but for some reason, God had always left her here to see another day.
What is He trying to tell me? Is there something else that I’m supposed to be doing?
Brooklyn got up from the ground. She thought she could run and get help for Stacey if she could just pull her out of the lot and into one of the houses. She grabbed her by the arms and tried dragging her, but weighing no more than 110 pounds soaking wet, she couldn’t move her more than a few inches. She got back in position beside her, deciding she’d wait there with her until someone arrived to aid them. Her own body was stiffening to the point where she could no longer feel her limbs, or even her fingers that rested on Stacey’s forehead. Was she finally going to get her wish? At least that’s what she hoped.
In the distance Brooklyn could hear sirens, but she couldn’t move to meet them at the street. If anyone was looking for them, it would be almost impossible for the duo to be found, as the sun was going down and the alley was darkening. Her voice wasn’t as loud as it was previously. In fact, she could barely catch her breath as she felt herself getting weaker by the second. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the way her life was supposed to end—in a dark alley, like a piece of trash.
Suddenly the sirens became inaudible, and her body fell to the ground next to Stacey’s. Her head rested on Stacey’s arm. Her eyes slowly closed, her body mirroring the unresponsive figure next to her.
Chapter One
Career Day 1985
The school hallways were filled with commotion. It was career day, and the students of Roberts Vaux Middle School took advantage of their free day. No one ever paid attention during career day, at least not the popular kids anyway. Brooklyn and her group of friends, which included Rene, Stacey, and Wanda, all picked the same career interests to guarantee they’d be together all day. They were the girls everyone loved to hate and the epitome of perfection in the eyes of most of their peers—all beautiful, smart, and talented in their own way.
Brooklyn, the youngest but the leader of the pack, was hands down the most stunning. She resembled one of those high-fashion models you’d see on TV, and her wardrobe only added to her look. She had flawless skin and the fair complexion of a “butter-pecan Ri-can” with glistening bronze highlights. Her teeth were straight without the help of braces or retainers and white enough to be featured in a Colgate commercial. Her hair hung below her shoulders, but she would often pull it back into a loose ponytail or wear it straight with little bends at the end. Her large almond-shaped eyes with light brown hue were just as striking. At fifteen, she was tall for her age, standing at almost five foot nine. Her body was fully developed with just the right amount of curves to wrap around her thin frame.Brooklyn’s mother, who worked at Girard College during the day but bar-hopped at night, was close friends with the neighborhood boosters, so Brooklyn always donned the latest name-brand gear and accessories.
Rene was the loudmouth of the bunch. She wasn’t as pretty as Brooklyn, but her personality made her stand out and always made her the center of attention. She was about five foot five, with a stocky frame, and what you’d call solid. She was always the first one to throw a punch in a fight and seldom the loser in any battle. But, for Rene, education was a must, and oftentimes when the rest of the girls would be goofing off, she’d have her head buried in the books. Her group of friends frequently leaned on her for test and homework answers.
Then there was Stacey, the thickest of the bunch. She carried it well, squeezing all of her 160 pounds into a size eight, always wearing clothes that complemented her body type. Stacey was pretty quiet but would quickly put you in your place if you stepped out of line.
Last but not least there was Wanda. If there was anybody that could give Brooklyn a run for her money in the looks department it was her. Wanda stood about five foot seven and had the perfect Coke-bottle figure. She was blessed at fifteen with a D cup and a round ass that any teenager and man alike would salivate over. In addition to beauty, Wanda had the voice of an angel, and her smile was contagious. Whenever there was a disagreement, she could always work her magic and straighten things out.
This group of girls was known as the PYT’s, “pretty young thangs,” and to say that they were popular would be an understatement. Every boy fell at their feet, and every female stayed out of their way.
This particular day wasn’t much different than any other for the group, apart from getting to accompany each other to class for the entire day. It was career day, and each student was allowed to choose three careers of most interest. The PYT’s chose law, medicine, and fashion, which were just checks on the sheet of paper they’d signed in on, because the interest just wasn’t there.
The day had gone by swiftly. The girls were headed to the last class of the day when Brooklyn spotted Sincere, her longtime crush. Sincere was one of those guys that almost mesmerized anyone in his presence. He had graduated from high school a few years earlier, but regularly hung outside of the school or in the hallways until he was shooed away by one of the hall monitors. Sincere had a reputation in the neighborhood and with the ladies as being a “bad boy.” His occupation of choice was drug dealing, and though he had a main girlfriend, time and time again you’d catch him sporting a different one on his arm. It was that bad-boy charm that attracted Brooklyn, who looked forward to getting a glimpse of him at least once or twice a day.
As the girls strolled in the direction of their class, Brooklyn stopped in her tracks and held a steady eye on Sincere, who stood near the end of the hall chatting with a few of his associates and admirers.
As Rene and Stacey walked into the room, Brooklyn tapped Wanda on the shoulder and nodded in Sincere’s direction.
“Girl, I don’t know why you won’t go talk to him. He knows you want him.” Wanda laughed.
“Because I don’t chase them, they chase me. When are you going to learn?” Brooklyn smiled and shook her head. She wanted to run over and tell him how she felt, but that wasn’t a part of her game. She told herself that she had to relax if she wanted things to go her way. “I mean, he needs to drop that chick, Maxine, if he wants me anyway,” she blurted out.
“Maxine? He’s still with her?” Wanda questioned with raised eyebrows. “Girl, you’re going to have to stake your claim. Obviously she has something that he wants.”
“Well, we both know it ain’t looks.” Brooklyn burst into laughter, and Wanda joined in as they both headed into the class. Brooklyn glanced at Sincere once more before going into the room. He smiled at her briefly before turning his attention back toward his conversation.
For Brooklyn, Sincere was perfect in every sense of the word. From his smooth, dark, mocha-colored skin to his pearly white teeth, he was the man she dreamed of being with. His hair was always perfectly cut, every strand obediently tamed, and with his attire, he always looked as if he’d stepped right off a designer advertisement. He wasn’t particularly nice to anyone, especially the females he dated, but Brooklyn loved a challenge. She knew, if given the chance, she could change him for the better. She was confident that she had the ability to make any man melt in her hand, even someone as rough as Sincere.
“Young lady, could you come in and close the door please,” the woman in front of
the class called out.
Brooklyn was so wrapped up staring at Sincere, she didn’t even hear the bell ring, or notice that her friends were already seated inside. They all giggled when she closed the door and came in. She flagged them as she headed to her seat.
Brooklyn’s attention was now focused on the woman standing in front of the class. She immediately noticed how beautiful she was. Even dressed down, she looked like a supermodel, tall and thin with great teeth and skin. Brooklyn was captivated and found it almost impossible to take her attention off the woman. She’d been told most of her teenage years that she could be a model, but it never interested her—until now. She was more into scoring the boy she wanted and maintaining her reputation.
As Mesa stood confident in the front of the room and began her speech on fashion and modeling, Rene blurted out, “So where are we going this weekend? I heard the skating rink is going to be packed.” Once she noticed that Brooklyn wasn’t paying attention to her, she leaned forward in her seat and waved her hand in front of her face. “Brook, is anybody home?”
“What?” she snapped. “I’m trying to listen here.”
The girls all turned to look over at her, disbelief splattered across all of their faces. Paying attention in class wasn’t something that Brooklyn normally did. But they all knew not to fool with her when she was focused on anything, regardless of how silly it might seem to them. So instead of probing her, they continued the conversation amongst themselves.
Brooklyn, unfazed by annoying them, was still glued to the beautiful structure in front of the chalkboard behind the teacher’s desk. The glamour was turning her on almost as much as Sincere did. She had to find out more about this profession and how she could get in.
Mesa Grimes, the twenty-something-year-old model, had made it in the business with not only her looks, but her wit and charm, all of which Brooklyn possessed. It was a known fact that Brooklyn stood out like a sore thumb. She was extremely confident, smart, and had the gift of gab. Sometimes her confidence could be misunderstood as arrogance, but everyone who knew her well normally overlooked it. Unknown to Brooklyn, Mesa was just as enthralled with her.
As Mesa spoke, it was almost as if she was directing all of her attention to Brooklyn, probably because she was the only one who seemed interested, but the truth was, Brooklyn had caught her attention from the moment she walked into the room.
Once the hour was up, the students in the class ran toward the door, almost knocking each other over. Brooklyn thought the chances of a girl like her from the ghetto turning into a supermodel were slim to none. She quickly refocused on the upcoming weekend and was telling the girls how great the skating party sounded.
As they neared the door, Brooklyn felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Do you have a few minutes to talk?” Mesa asked as Brooklyn turned around.
She was hesitant but told the girls to go ahead without her and she’d meet up with them outside of the building.
“Sure, I can talk. What about?”
“I noticed how interested you were in what I was saying. Have you ever thought about modeling?”
“Me? Yeah, right.” Brooklyn burst into laughter. “In my world, shit like that doesn’t happen. Excuse my French, but I’m just being real.”
“Well, it’s possible. You definitely have the look and the personality.”
Confused, Brooklyn looked herself up and down. Though she always wore designer clothing, her wardrobe was always closer to a boy’s than a girl’s. She’d rock a tight fitted shirt but over it would be a loose jumper, and a pair of Adidas on her feet. Today her attire wasn’t much different. She wore a pair of stonewashed jeans, grey flats with a few studs sporadically placed on both sides, and a loose white boat neck shirt that hung off her left shoulder. Her wrists were covered with bracelets that made a jangling noise every time she moved. She knew she looked good, but she couldn’t understand where Mesa saw that model quality.
“Well, look—Here’s my card and an application packet. If you’re interested, we’d love to have you on our team. We are one of the largest independent modeling agencies in Philadelphia. We’re actually an imprint of a much larger company in New York City.”
Brooklyn stood there amazed. Things like that just didn’t happen. She was the product of a broken home with a lush for a mother, and they lived in a neighborhood full of hustlers and drug addicts. Is this really happening? she thought. She couldn’t really be offering me a modeling contract.
“I’m not pressuring you. Just take it home and have your parents look it over with you. Then we can set up a meeting to go over everything together. Deal?”
“Deal,” she responded with a smile.
After taking the packet from Mesa, Brooklyn stuffed it into her bag before leaving the room. One thing she hated was people all up in her business.
She walked over to her friends, who were waiting for her at the end of the hall.
“I thought I said wait outside.” She placed her hands on her hips and balled her face up.
Wanda spoke up for the group. “It’s too damn hot outside. What’s the big deal anyway? We weren’t trying to be nosy, if that’s what you think. We know how you are about your privacy.”
“All right. Well, let’s get out of here. It’s the weekend, ladies. We need to go out and celebrate.”
They all cheered and headed out of the building.
Brooklyn noticed Sincere standing off to the side of the street, leaning against his car. She gave him a flirtatious smile and waved at him. He returned the smile but tried not to make it too obvious, since Maxine was standing only a few feet away from him.
Maxine was one of the biggest troublemakers in the school. She and Brooklyn had come pretty close to blows on many occasions, but somehow, they were always separated and never made contact. Brooklyn felt like making her way over to Sincere. She didn’t care about Maxine’s presence and was pretty much ready for whatever she’d throw her way.
The girls followed behind Brooklyn as she switched over to where he was posted. He got up from the car as she got closer.
“What’s up, Sincere?” Brooklyn smiled. “You’re looking good today as always.”
“It ain’t nothing. I’m just relaxing. What’s up with you?”
“On my way home to get ready for this party later on. I just wanted to come over and say hi.”
“What party are you going to? I may swing by, since you’re going to be in the building.” He smiled.
“The party at the skating rink. Everybody is going. I hear it’s going to be packed.”
“Cool. I’ll try and—”
“You’ll try and what?” Maxine blurted out. She’d switched over once she noticed them having a conversation.
“Nothing, Max. I was just leaving. Don’t worry. No one’s trying to step on your toes.”
“Whatever. You’re like a stray dog, so I don’t trust you. You’ll screw anything!” she yelled.
“Whatever is right, sweetie. You have a good day,” Brooklyn said. “Sincere, you do the same.” Brooklyn turned to walk away, furious inside. A stray dog? She hadn’t even had sex yet, so she definitely didn’t appreciate being compared to a loose dog.
Brooklyn wanted to be the bigger person at that moment and ignore Maxine. She knew eventually they would come to blows, and planned to get a punch in for every slick thing she’d ever said to her. She quickly shook the thoughts of Maxine and walked along with her friends, discussing what they planned to wear that night. Brooklyn was excited and wanted to be sexy, just in case Sincere decided to swing by.
Once Brooklyn got home, her mother was on the sofa asleep, most likely sleeping off the effects of a long night of partying, so she sat the packet down on the coffee table in front of her and went up to her room. It was hard for Brooklyn to get her mother to focus on anything that didn’t involve alcohol and partying. Fortunately, she had learned how to take on the responsibility of taking care of herself and her two younger brothers. Otherwise,
things would have been in shambles years earlier. She knew the packet would probably lie there untouched for days, but she wanted to see exactly what could happen with it, figuring it was at least worth the try.
You never get anywhere in life sitting around waiting for things to happen, she thought.
She ran into her room and immediately began going through her closet. After pulling piles of clothing out onto the bed, she finally settled on the perfect outfit, a pair of straight-legged stonewashed jeans, a black tank top with thin straps, and a pair of black flat shoes. She rarely wore shoes, but she felt that this day was different. She was trying to impress Sincere, and with the clothing, her long hair freshly wrapped, and a little makeup, she was sure to blow him away.
Eight o’clock couldn’t come fast enough for her. She was so excited, she had to lie down for a nap, just to make time go by. “Tonight is the night,” she whispered to herself. No more playing around for her.
Chapter Two
Truly Sincere 1985
The music was blasting as Brooklyn and her girls entered the party. Teenagers were everywhere inside Carmen’s Skating Rink, some skating, some playing the arcade games, others posted up in various areas, trying to get their mack on. They all headed straight for the counter to pick up their skates. Brooklyn loved to skate and was pretty good at it. She was one for showing off, doing tricks on the floor, getting all of the attention. Her friends normally were there to cheer her on.
“Size?” the guy at the counter yelled over the loud music.
“Two sevens, a nine, and a six and a half, please,” Brooklyn shouted back.
He returned a few seconds later with all of their skates. They walked over to the chairs next to the lockers to put them on. Brooklyn continued to look all around the building.
Stacey noticed and questioned her. “What the hell are you looking for? Or, should I say, who, for that matter?” She laughed.
Cover Girl Page 2