Book Title: My Ticket Out
Author: J.N. Marton
Cover Artist: 100Covers
Release Date: November 17, 2020
Genres: Contemporary F/F Romance, Coming-of-age
Tropes: Forbidden love(ish) and friends to lovers
Themes: Coming out, Embracing who you are
Length: 260 pages
It is a standalone story.
Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited
A senior basketball player. A mysterious new girl. A secret romance…
Blurb
Charlie Baker wants out. She wants out of her small, southern hometown of BluHaven and she has her sights set on a basketball scholarship to a college as far away as her dreams can take her. Everything is going according to plan until she moves to town.
Aspen Sullivan is breathtaking. She is beautiful, smart, talented…. She evokes feelings in Charlie that she hadn’t thought possible. When their friendship blossoms into something more, Charlie discovers a new truth about herself. But with Aspen’s mysterious past, they must keep their relationship a secret.
Will their love be strong enough to endure the trials of deceiving those closest to them? Do they have what it takes to escape the constraints of the south and the closet together?
My Ticket Out is a Young Adult, LGBT story about love, and self-discovery. If you enjoy stories that include romance, heartbreak, and embracing who you are, then you will definitely love this book by author J.N. Miller.
Pick this book up today to see if Charlie will find her ticket out.
The dreary evening air of late February envelopes the area in a blanket of darkness, except for the familiar yellow glow of the porch light. The minute I step through the door, I’m met with the satisfying aroma of coffee. There have been very few times I’ve come home and there hasn’t been a pot of coffee brewing; Gramps and Nana are convinced it’s the only way they’re able to function properly.
The inside of our house reminds me of the old eighties movies Gramps loves to watch, with a modern twist to it. The floor is an old-fashioned parquet with a blend of deep homely browns. The walls are painted the green of a summer garden, with pictures of Matty, my brother, and me scattered about the entire house. It’s an open floor plan, the living room blending into a small dining room, then remaining open as the kitchen appears behind it with just enough space for a family of four to move around without climbing on top of each other.
We may live in a neighborhood where each house is nearly identical to the others, but once I step inside it feels different. It’s a place where the lungs choose to fill a little deeper and the heart beats a little steadier.
“Oh, Charlie, you’re home just in time to help me finish cleaning up and load the dishwasher,” Nana says as soon as I enter the kitchen.
I do a quick sweep of the area. “Matty can’t help you?” I reply, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
“He’s upstairs working on a project or something and besides, you’re already here.”
I exhale slowly, debating if it’s even worth arguing. I’ve been home less than ten minutes and I’m already roped into doing something Matty could’ve easily accomplished without me. It may be the twenty-first century but I swear my Nana is still stuck in the sixties with her borderline sexist ideologies.
“How was the game, sweetheart?” Nana asks.
“We lost.”
“That’s too bad, dear. I’m sure you’ll do better next time.”
I respond with a barely audible grunt as I place the last of the silverware into the dishwasher. I snag a clean bowl, spoon, and the unopened box of Lucky Charms and set them on the laminate white countertop.
“Hey, Monkey. Sorry to hear you lost,” says Gramps as he hobbles into the kitchen.
I shrug, shoveling another bite of cereal into my mouth.
“Any word about the recruiter that was coming to the game tonight?” asks Gramps.
I drop my gaze to my bowl of cereal, the uneasiness fluttering in my stomach as I think back to the game. For some reason, I don’t feel hungry anymore. I shake my head at Gramps and slide past him to put my bowl away before heading upstairs.
I lightly tap on the door before walking through. “Hey, Matty.”
“Hey, Charlie,” he says with a grin. “How was the game?”
“We lost,” I mumble.
“Ahh man, that sucks. I’m sorry, sis. Any word on the recruit?” He picks up the slim screwdriver balancing on his thigh and inserts it at the corner of the small plastic box in his hands.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
Matty’s my younger brother but he has towered over me ever since his growth spurt in the ninth grade. He’s got broad shoulders, curly brown hair (just like our father’s), and the same emerald green eyes as me. His limbs are lean, and muscular which I always found odd because he hates working out or anything close to exercising. Ever since we were little, there was always something that drew people to him. He’s charismatic and charming, but it was more than that. There’s a sort of reservedness about Matty, not obvious to the naked eye, but he has a way of picking up on cues most people can’t.
We’ve had our ups and downs, but he’s the one person I can be myself with, the one person I can count on no matter what. I could tell him anything and he would love me just the same.
“What was the score?” he asks, as he pries the sides apart.
“Thirty-six to thirty-seven. I missed the winning shot.”
“Dang, Charlie. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Don’t be too hard on yourself; it was one shot.”
I sprawl out on his bed, letting my chin rest in the palms of my hands. “One shot that cost us the game.”
“C’mon, Charlie, cut yourself some slack.” He lifts his head, his gaze softening. “You’re going to get a scholarship to some fancy school halfway across the country and leave this all behind.” He gestures to the room around him.
“We’ll see. A scholarship is my only ticket out of this place.”
“You and me both, sis. But would staying in BluHaven really be the end of the world?”
“Yes,” I respond, without a second thought. Matty swivels in his chair, raising an eyebrow at me while he fidgets with the items in his lap. “Don’t you want to see what’s out there, Matty? There’s got to be more to life than high school football games and visiting the same shops and restaurants that’ve been here since before Gramps and Nana were born.”
“What would you even want to do once you get out?”
I take a minute to consider his words before answering. “I’m not entirely sure to be honest. But I think I would like to do something that involved helping people. Maybe I’ll become a social worker and help kids in the foster system. Or maybe I’ll get a degree in something like business and keep my options open. All I know is that whatever I do, I want it to be somewhere that’s not here.”
“Do you even like kids?” he says with a smirk.
I grab the pillow from behind my feet and smack him with it.
“I’m just kidding, relax.”
“What’re you working on, anyways? Please tell me it’s not another one of your machines to help Nana with the chores?” Matty looks at me with mild exasperation and rolls his eyes. The last time he tried to help Nana with the chores—he built a contraption that was supposed to help her dry the dishes—he nearly caught the house on fire.
“It’s a project for my Engineering and Design class. We had to build a mousetrap structure that could trap more than one thing at the same time.”
“Sounds riveting,” I tease.
“It’s actually more challenging than I originally anticipated but I think I’m almost finished.” A childish grin spreads across his face when he finishes disassembling the now broken box in his lap.
“Have fun. I’m going to my room.”
“Night, Charlie.”
I toss aside the various pants and shirts lying askew on top of my full-size bed before crawling underneath the covers and picturing what life might be like when I’m far away from this place.
J.N. Marton graduated from the University of Central Arkansas with a Bachelor’s degree in education. Along with educating the future of our nation, she enjoys taking her daily morning run, reading any book she can get her hands on, and binge watching the latest shows on Netflix. Marton happily lives with her wife, Hollis, and their Lab/Basset Hound mix, Sam.
Email her at jnmartonauthor@gmail.com and follow her on her favorite social media platform, Twitter @jn_marton.
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