just fall | ✓

16.

Breakfast was filled with excited chatter, all of the Selected discussing the interviews and gowns and all of that other stuff. Aquia and I rolled our eyes and sipped our coffee, not speaking because it was too goddamn early in the morning. Neither of us could feel giddy when we knew that eight girls would be kicked out soon, and anyway, we were both too busy trying to force food and caffeine into us. Aquia picked at two strawberry tarts before pushing half of her second onto my empty plate. I picked at it as well, more concerned with trying to keep the coffee down. That in itself was a feat, even if it was loaded with flavored cream and sugar, because I could still vaguely taste the coffee. My tongue was still too accustomed to the lukewarm sludge that I often downed black in Kent to hold myself over for whatever I could pick out of dumpsters for dinner. I knew that it was all in my head, but that didn't make it easier.

I noticed Alexander, Mason, and Clara whispering back and forth a few times. When the chatter had died down and the sound of utensils scraping against plates had faded, Alexander shot a look at his brother before standing, a piece of paper in his hand. Although all of the attention was on him the second he had begun to stand, he cleared his throat as if trying to gain the attention of everyone in the room. He folded his hands in front of him, looking more like a king than he ever had, and said, "I hope that you all have eaten well and had a good night's sleep. After all of last night's excitement, I'm loathe to be the bearer of the bad news, yet it's a necessary evil." Curiosity thrummed through the girls like electric through a wire, rippling over them as he finished speaking. Twenty-six pairs of wide eyes were fixated on him; mine and Aquia's were as well, but we weren't nearly as curious as the others. "Today, eight of you will be returning home."

Another ripple passed through the girls, murmured whispers running up and down the table. They were all quiet, vaguely-panicked questions, though most seemed to think that they'd be staying.

Alexander waited patiently for them to pass. "If I call your name, please stand." He cleared his throat once more and unfolded the paper in his hand. "East Memoli."

A pretty girl with long, dark hair in small, tight braids stood with a smile on her face. Her teeth were very straight and very white.

"Camille Dilworth. Emmica Ballantyne." Two pretty blondes stood, smiles tugging at their lips as well.

"Sky Palepa. Keller Scinto." The first girl that stood, Sky, was a pretty girl with a round face and high cheekbones, her hair long, pin-straight, and dark. She'd been nice enough to me, though we didn't talk much. She was from Fenneley, and I thought she was from an old tribe out there. The other girl was brunette, a little plain looking, and very rude.

"Finn Bracken, Marcy Royce, and Olive Yourdon." He folded the paper as these girls stood, and the smug smiles that had been on a few of their faces slipped off and almost audibly hit the floor. There were eight girls standing, and Alexander was finished. They knew what was coming.

There was more chatter, and Alexander waited for it to pass once again. He had the patience of a saint...or a schoolteacher. Once it died down and the eyes fixated on him once more, he said, "Thank you ladies for taking time away from your families and your homes to meet us. It has been an honor and a pleasure to be your hosts. There are maids outside waiting to lead you to your rooms and help you to pack, and they will take you to where you need to be once you are finished. My family and I wish you safe travels, and we hope that your lives are filled with happiness." He sat back down.

The girls filed out of the room, a few of them crying as they did. They were alligator tears, cried only in hope of being pitied enough to be asked to stay, but neither prince moved to comfort them or ask them to stay on bended knee, so they continued to shuffle out.