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    A Girl Like You and other stories
    A Girl Like You and other stories
    A Girl Like You and other stories
    Ebook78 pages1 hour

    A Girl Like You and other stories

    By Claire Cox

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A collection of short stories about young women learning their own strength in the midst of brokenness in their lives. Each one learns that even though something is broken, the healing can make them stronger. A Girl Like You: Regan struggles against being judged solely on her appearance. Glint: Cary attempts to balance her relationships, even while Missy tries to be the center. Cruising: Jennie struggles to continue her life after her trust in humanity has been destroyed. Broken Ends: Sara decides she will not be abused by her husband anymore. Burning: Lacy thinks she belongs in her group until she finds out that she doesn't.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherClaire Cox
    Release dateMar 10, 2014
    ISBN9781310781131
    A Girl Like You and other stories
    Author

    Claire Cox

    I live in Arkansas with my lovely husband and daughter. I have been a great lover of books and writing from a very early age. I started writing my own stories as a very young child. My grandmothers read romances and often gave me a box full of books they'd read. My mother is a voracious reader and taught me to love the written word, as well. I believe that reading about strong characters will help people to grow as individuals and discover ways to make their own lives better.

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      Book preview

      A Girl Like You and other stories - Claire Cox

      A Girl Like You

      and other stories

      Copyright 2014 Claire Cox

      Published by Jamie Schultz at Smashwords

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Table of Contents

      Acknowledgements

      A Girl Like You

      Edge

      Cruising

      Broken Ends

      Burning

      About Claire Cox

      Other books by Claire Cox

      Connect with Claire Cox

      Acknowledgements

      I would like to thank the members of the writing groups I attended with these stories, as their suggestions proved invaluable to me while writing. Thank you to my wonderful husband and family for their support and encouragement. Thank you to my bestie for always believing in me.

      The world breaks everyone and afterwards many are strong at the broken places.

      Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms, 1929

      A Girl Like You

      Honey, said Mrs. Cleary, smiling and glancing at Mrs. Beaudoin standing next to her. She laid a hand on my shoulder. We just think it would be better if you don’t hug them. You’re a pretty young lady and you don’t need to be hugging men that belong to other women.

      They were talking about their husbands. I was seventeen years old and they were telling me that they didn’t want me to hug their husbands at The First Baptist Church on Sunday morning anymore. Mrs. Cleary’s blue hair quivered as she nodded at me before patting me on the arm and turning to walk away with Mrs. Beaudoin toward the fellowship hall.

      I swallowed back the knot that had rushed to my throat and attempted to smile at people as I made my way outside. As soon as the cool air hit my heated cheeks, I took a deep breath and told myself that they were just dirty-minded old women. Surely their husbands weren’t thinking things like that. After several minutes, the February wind drove me back inside the church. I grabbed my coat off the back pew where I’d left it and went downstairs to the fellowship hall to tell my mother I was leaving.

      Regan. I turned and saw my youth pastor’s wife walking toward me. Her salt and pepper hair brushed my cheek as she slid an arm around my shoulders and leaned down to my ear. I saved you some of my homemade vanilla. Come to the kitchen and I’ll get it for you.

      Baptists love their ice cream socials, even in February. The fellowship hall was packed with people milling about, each carrying a white plastic bowl filled with different flavors of ice cream. Next to a long table covered with containers of various sizes, shapes and colors stood Richie, a boy in my youth group who was one year older than me. He was dishing out a scoop of someone’s homemade ice cream which was nestled up against a store bought carton of Cherry Vanilla. I considered saying hello to Richie, then decided not to. Most of the time, he and I got along, but I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to him right then.

      Gayle Martin made the best vanilla ice cream on the planet. It was the perfect mix of creamy and firm and flavorful without being too sweet.

      Thanks, Gayle, I said, taking the bowl from her.

      Her round face smiled down at me. No problem, kiddo. You know I always look out for you.

      My whole body seemed to relax as I sucked a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. Gayle stood next to me, watching my face with a smile. Gayle, I said. Do you think it’s wrong for me to hug people in church?

      Her smile faltered and she glanced behind me before meeting my eyes again. Honey, she answered. Why do you ask?

      I shrugged and looked back down at my ice cream. Just something someone said.

      She nodded. I have an idea. You’re out of school this week, right?

      No. We’re only out on Monday and Tuesday.

      Okay, she said. Then how about if I come pick you up tomorrow and we go to lunch together and talk? Does that sound good?

      Sure, I said. I took another bite of ice cream and closed my eyes. Gayle would help me. When I opened my eyes, Richie was standing at the open kitchen door smiling and waving his spoon at me.

      My doorbell rang a little before noon and I opened the door expecting to see Gayle. Richie? I asked. What are you doing here?

      Richie smiled smugly, his hands resting in the pockets of his jacket. Shifting his weight onto one foot, his tall skinny frame leaned in a cocky stance in front of me. He looked so arrogant

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