The Second Choice: A Selection Story

Chapter Seven

"I can't believe I made the cut!" Hannah says excitedly. "He actually liked me!"

I let myself smile. Her happiness radiates off of her; she seems to warm my heart with her own happiness. Unlike me, who chooses to keep my emotions to herself, she's an open book. It's easy to tell when she's worried, upset, surprised, or excited. As much as I want to be like that, I'd rather stay the way I am. 

"I'm so happy for you, Hannah," I reply. "You deserve to be here!"

She blushes. "Oh, stop. Not more than you! You're so pretty and kind and elegant."

"Elegant?" I repeat, covering my mouth to muffle the laugh.

"Look at you! Your posture, your face, Emerson! Everything about you is queen-like." She grins as she presses her hands together and nods. "I can see it now. Queen Emerson Schreave, our beloved ruler." She curtsies and bows her head at me with a small giggle. I shake my head and laugh.

"You'll never repeat those words in your life," I reply.

"We'll see about that." A mischievous twinkle flashes in her eyes. Changing the subject, she says, "Do you want to come to the women's room with me? I've heard it's really nice. Maybe we'll even see Princess Jessamyn! Oh, she's gorgeous, don't you think?"

I nod my head absentmindedly, looking at the large grandfather clock. "But it's getting kind of late, don't you think?"

"I've heard that's when the cool crowd visits!" she exclaims, taking my hand and dragging me down the hallway. I don't bother struggling against her firm grip.

Once we arrive, Hannah pouts in disappointment when she realizes Princess Jessamyn isn't there. But there are a few selected. Now that there are only twenty-seven of us left, the Selection can really begin. That includes going on dates, forming alliances with the other girls... and enemies. I can already tell who I'm not going to like.

She lays on a couch on the far side of the room surrounded by a few other mean looking girls. The girl that was after me in the process of meeting the Prince. I search my memory frantically for her name. Scarlett Green. That's it.

Her hair is a perfect sheet of shine; dark, pristine, perfect. Her bright green eyes pop out at me, complimented by her bright red lips. Her face is clear of acne and any other kind of blemishes you could ever think of; and her dress is an obnoxious red. I sigh as she seems to notice Hannah and I.

When she sees us, she shoos the other girls away, stands up and brushes off her dress, and strides over to us in graceful steps. She's quite tall. She must be a two- a model, maybe? I wouldn't be surprised. Though she looks as if she wants to kill me, she's quite pretty.

"Who are you supposed to be?" she asks, gesturing at the two of us.

"I'm Hannah, and this is-"

"Emerson," I say in a warning tone, cutting Hannah off. She looks as if to say, What are you doing Emerson? You want to get on her GOOD side!

Scarlett snorts at us. "What are you, a Six? Look at you!" But to my surprise, she's not looking at me. Only at Hannah.

I clench my fist, not sure whether I want to use it. Using it means Hannah's safe, but I'll get kicked out of the Selection. Not using it means Hannah and I are in jeopardy for the rest of our time at the palace.

"I'm not a-" Hannah starts, but I once again cut her off.

"I'm a Six." My voice is deep, strong. I glare at Scarlett, causing her to raise her eyebrows curiously.