SHOOT: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

mother’s eyes.
“I honestly can’t believe this woman thinks I have a real shot, mom. It’s like
a dream,” I paused and sat down. I looked straight into her eyes, hoping to
appeal to her soft side. Maybe if she saw how much her daughter wanted this she
would soften up a bit. It was a long shot, but I had to try.

 
    “Mom,” I said
quietly, “I really want to go.”

 
    She sighed and
leaned forward, placing her hand briefly over mine before shaking her head and
placing it back on the clean surface of the kitchen table.

 
    “I know it sounds
like something amazing out of a movie, darling. I know that glitz and glamour
can have you high as kite in La-La Land, but you should think carefully. Be
practical.” She paused with a frown, bordering on a scowl. I knew I wasn’t
going to like whatever was coming next. “I think it’s best if you stay here and
help run the family business. Find a boy, settle down, have children. There’s
nothin’ good outside of Iowa.”

 
    “This could be my
big chance to do something different, something I couldn’t have thought
possible in my wildest dreams! You really want me to stay here to sell pies?” I
was in disbelief and reaching desperation mode. This was a once in a lifetime
shot.

 
    My mother looked
both hurt and angry, but her voice was steady when she spoke up, “You should be
proud.”

 
    “I am , mom. That doesn’t mean I don’t know
there’s more out there in the world beyond this small town. I may know where I
come from and I appreciate everything, but it doesn’t mean it has to stop me
from wanting to explore something else,” I tried to reason. I had calmed my
tone of voice significantly because I wanted her to take me seriously. Getting
worked up and out of control never helped anyone.

 
    After a long
silence, I scooted my chair away from the table and stood up.

 
    “I’m going. I have to go.”

 
      I took one last look at my mother’s upset face
before turning on my heel and walking upstairs to my bedroom, my ticket out of
there clutched securely in my hand.

 
 

I arrived in New
York a month later, coming in at the famed Grand Central Station by train. Although
I was offered a plane ticket, I had declined due to my fear of flying. Even
though I had never been on a plane before, I was pretty sure I’d hate it. I
felt like a complete country bumpkin admitting I had never been on an airplane,
but a sense of relief had spread over me when the booker told me it was
understandable and offered me a train ride instead.

 
    The journey was
long, but worth it. Naturally, I had tried to sleep during the long trip, but I
was brimming with too much excitement and anxiety to have much luck with sleeping.
I ended up walking along the silent halls of the train at night, holding on to
the rail to keep from falling as it swayed from side to side.

 
    My jaw dropped in
awe the moment I stepped out from under an archway and into the main lobby of
Grand Central Station. I saw a large twin staircase to my right. Up there I
would have the perfect vantage point to truly admire the place. I practically
scurried over to it, trailing my luggage behind me on its busy little wheels
and tugging it up the marble steps as I climbed them. I placed my hands on the
rail and looked down to admire the scene before me.

 
    My eyes darted
from the display board, the lights, the ceiling, and the people walking in a
rush. It was all so amazing I couldn’t believe I was seeing it with my own eyes
rather than staring at it through a computer screen. It was even more grand
than it appeared in pictures and movies. It took every ounce of self-control
for me not to squeal out of sheer excitement. My dreams were finally happening.

 
    Finally, I walked
outside Grand Central and, almost immediately, the sights and sounds of the
city overwhelmed me. I had never experienced anything remotely like it. The
fact that it was a busy weekday afternoon made the impact