Hell, it’s actually become a bit of a joke with his other friends, they’re always asking him when he’ll finally start dating me. His response breaks my heart every single time. “That’d be weird, she’s my best friend. Almost like a sister.”
I break my mind away from those thoughts forcibly and tune back into what the principal is saying just in time to hear him announce the selections, “And the ten students who scored the highest on the academic exams were: Amanda Sinclair with a score of ninety-eight. Francis Brophy with a score of ninety-eight. Troy Brophy with a score of ninety-eight. Erin Carter with a score of ninety-eight. Eric Massi…” He keeps reading the names off his list but I’m stuck hearing only Eric’s name on repeat. He got in; he’s going to be leaving me.
I feel a tear slide down my cheek just as the girl sitting next to me nudges me in the arm. “What are you just sitting there for? Gods, how lucky are you. It’s so not fair-.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, interrupting her tirade.
She blushes before asking, “You’re Ryxa Day, aren’t you?”
“Yeah?” I draw the word out so it sounds more like a question, feeling my own cheeks heat in response to her questioning who I am and seeming embarrassed by it.
With a burst of speed, she grabs my arm, trying to get me to stand, I refuse to budge from my chair. “You scored a hundred percent, the top score of the entire country, they’ll choose you for sure.” She hugs me sideways as though in congratulations while I die a little inside.
“That’s impossible. I got ten answers wrong.” I know I got them wrong.Did I mess up and get them right? No, I’m sure of it, I got them wrong. They were the easiest to answer incorrectly without it looking like I meant to.
“Apparently you didn’t. Well, go on then.” She gives me a shove in the back so hard I end up standing up just as Mr Harvey says, “If your name was called out, please make your way to the podium, preparations for tonight’s ball will begin shortly. Once again, congratulations.”
What the F?
As the crowd of people get to their feet, clapping and cheering, I stumble down the side of the bleachers, my legs barely able to hold me up. Somehow I end up at the bottom, standing beside Eric as we’re ushered into a room behind the stage.
“Ladies to the left, gentlemen to the right.” Someone calls out as we enter the room. I grip Eric’s hand tight, not wanting to let him go. My face feels like a furnace. I can’t believe this is happening. It’s my worst fears come to life.
I pinch my arm just above my wrist in hope that I’ll wake up from this nightmare but all it does is cause a slight jolt of pain. Eric wraps his arm around my shoulders, the heat from his body making me feel like I’m standing in a furnace. I want to escape from the confines of his embrace and bask in it at the same time. I’m so confused over the feelings inside me that I do this sort of half shove, half wiggle thing where I end up a step away from him, stretching his arm out between us.
“It’s going to be okay, Ryx, we’ll both get chosen and we’ll be together, just like we wanted.” He removes the distance between us and pulls me into a full hug.
I want to yell at him, tell him that I don’t want this.
Not the hugging, I really want the hugging.
I just don’t want anything to do with the Gods. I open my mouth to say as much, but someone grabs my arm, dragging me away from my best friend.
The woman pulls me towards a section of the room that’s been set up like a beauty salon with mirrors and a table with makeup. I don’t even get a chance to ask her name before she’s talking.
“Oh my, aren’t you just the prettiest thing. You’ll be chosen for sure. My name is going to be linked with the Gods, everyone will want to hire me to do their hair and makeup after this.” The woman prattles on, pushing me into a chair before turning me to face a mirror.
I start to shake my head but she grips my hair in her fist holding me perfectly still. For someone so small, she’s surprisingly strong. She yanks the hair band holding my pony tail up and lets my long white-gold hair loose.
“Such a beautiful colour.” She croons. “What salon do you use to get this colour, I must have their recipe, it’s absolutely divine!” She exclaims, sifting her fingers through the strands of my hair.
“Um, it’s natural.” I mutter, my face taking on a rather unflattering shade of red in the mirror.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of another girl being primped and poked at with makeup which causes me to shudder. I’m so lost in my revulsion to the amount of makeup the girl is being layered with that I jump as the woman stroking my hair asks;
“Mind if I take a photo? I’d love to try to duplicate the colour.” Before I can answer she begins snapping pictures on her phone.
“Right, well, let’s get this show on the road.” She laughs again and begins tugging a brush through my hair. I grit my teeth and close my eyes, praying she makes me look as ugly as possible.
After what feels like forever, she turns me around to face away from the mirror, shaking her head.
“I got so lost playing with that glorious mane I simply don’t have time to do a full face, thank the Gods you’re a natural beauty.” She swipes across my lips with a damp brush, smearing something over my sensitive skin, then dabs at my cheekbones with a sponge looking thing and then steps back, a huge smile on her face.
“It’s perfect. Even if I do say so myself.” With a flick of her wrist, she pulls the cloth off my shoulders.
“Right, here you go, get dressed and then go stand by the stage door with the others.” She shoves a garment bag into my arms and practically pushes me all the way through the bathroom door.
My first thought as I enter the bathroom is that I’ve died and gone to hell. There are six girls, all gathered around the basins in various stages of dressing. Amanda Sinclair, the cheerleader wannabe who is always picking on everyone, is talking loudly while spraying herself with some kind of perfume that almost makes me gag with how strong it is.