The Selection

Chapter Three

"Hey, Georgia. It's time to go meet in the town square for your send off." Mom sniffles, wiping away her tears.

I nod slowly, turning back I look at myself in the mirror. I curled my hair so I looked even prettier. I had to wear a black blouse with white pants. We were allowed to pick out our own shoes so I wear blue flats that match the blue orchid in my hair.

"Geo?" Ireland calls from the other side of the house.

"Coming!" I reply finding my way to the long black car waiting for us.

The square is crowded. Hundreds of people crowd together to see me! As soon as I hop out of the car, I'm quickly pushed to the stage where the mayor is waiting with a microphone in his hand.

"Dear people of Kent, we are gathered here to witness the sending off of our dearly beloved Lady Georgia. May she win the selection and become our Queen." He chants motioning the the mic.

I stumble over, "Hello. I would just like to thank all of you for coming to see me this day. Truly to think about it, it's crazy. I would especially like to thank my lovely parents, Laura and Michael Summons, my sister who made me sign up, Ireland, and my wonderful little brother who supports me through all my choices, Jacob. I'll miss you all!"

An overwhelming amount of claps rumbles in front of me. After my speech they push me to another long car which takes me to the airport. I'm the first one there so I take out a book from my small pack from home.

A few minutes later I hear giggles. I look up to see Abigail Garrison, her blonde curls up in a ponytail and a more refined girl with straight black hair and green eyes. I stand up sticking my hand out which Abigail ignores and gives me a hug. She backs away and the other girl shakes my hand.

"Hello! I'm Abigail!" The blonde chirps happily.

"Hi, I'm Lilliana." The black haired girl says with a shy smile.

"Hey! I'm Georgia." My smile grows wider, realizing that at least I won't be flying with complete jerks.

It was getting slightly awkward until Abigail pipes up, "OMG! I'm so nervous to meet the Prince. Do you think we meet him today or tomorrow?"

"I'm guessing tomorrow. This is crazy. I hope we don't have to change ourselves to fit with the Prince." I yawn, the lack of sleep catching up to me.

"I'll do whatever to get the crown." A new voice snaps. I look up to see Bethany Hammond, the black haired Barbie. The witch is wearing 6inch heels and her hair is in deep curls that would make boys take a second look. Secretly, I wish my curls were like hers.

Abigail, Lilliana, and I exchange quick looks. She said the crown, not him. Bethany quickly walks over and examines her manicured nails.

"When do we get in the plane?"she asks, not even bothering to look up

"Right now." A flight attendant answers, beckoning us to come follow her.

I take the window seat and Abigail sits next to me. The chairs were facing each other and had a table in the middle. Bethany walked over and flicked her hand at Abigail. Shocked by the gesture, she just gaped.

"Move." The word sounded like poison and dread flowed through my veins.

Abigail flew out of her seat and sat next to Lilliana. Bethany sat down and offered her hand to shake. "Hello, I'm Bethany Hammond. A model. You?"

"I'm Georgia Summons. A singer." I reply slightly disgusted at her lack of respect for the other girls.

"I haven't heard any of your songs." She remarks snottily.

"Oh well I mostly sing at parties." I say staring into her fire eyes as an attempt to intimidate her.

"Oh so your one of those singers." She says rolling her eyes.

"What do you mean, 'those singer'" I ask with obvious hurt in my voice.

"The poor singers who are nobody's." She flips her hair and I look away. It was true. I usually only sing for the same people every year.

I ignore her for the rest of the trip.

~~~~~~~~~

"Oh My..."Abigail starts.

"Goodness." I say finishing her sentence. The front entrance way in the palace was huge. Crystal chandeliers, huge paintings, maids and butlers running around. The finest drapery and a grand staircase.

A young lady, mid twenties whose name I'd already forgotten, led us to a room packed with salon chairs and mirrors. The rush and bustle of everyone causes excitement to rush through my body.

"Lady Bethany station 2. Lady Lilliana station 4. Lady Abigail station 6. Lady Georgia station 11." She informs us while looking down at her clipboard.

People rush me to a chair and a stylist looks at me with eyes of wonder. "What style do you want? Preppy, sexy, innocent, intelligent, what?"

"Myself. Don't make me look too different. Whatever you think is best." I command as nicely as possible.

I close my eyes in all the hurry, when I open them, I am left to gape. My dark brown, wavy hair has fully bouncy curls and is cut to my mid back. I didn't have too much makeup on, just enough to say beautiful. The stylist slips me into a turquoise knee length dress and white heels and I'm finished.

"Lady Georgia?" I reporter calls. I walk over and sit elegantly in a chair. The camera is pointed directly at me, and I'm starting to get nervous.

"So Lady Georgia. It doesn't look like much has changed, are you going for the Queen America style?" The reporter inquires, staring at me intensely.

The question floats in my mind. What did she mean? Then it hits me, America also didn't change much about her look.

"Somewhat. I just don't think that a mere situation should change who you are and what you look like." I answer proudly.

"Lovely answer. Thank you for your time." She cuts off the camera and I walk to Abigail who sits politely on a couch.

"I hope every day in the palace isn't like this." I grumble with exhaustion.

"Tell me about it." Abigail mumbles beside me.