Another Selection Deleted Scenes

We could be friends...

Authors Note: this is a scene that I originally wrote in Serena's POV. It didn't make it to the book, and has nothing to do with Beckett's and Serena's relationship now. And it was from the first book, by the way!

Serena's POV

"I've never been to the gardens before," I admitted as my heels clicked against the stone beneath my feet. It was a beautiful day, and ever since the selection began, I did admire the gorgeous flowers and radiant plants.

"Really?" Beckett asked, my arm linked through his. His suit jacket was thick, and I couldn't imagine how hot it must be for him, on this heated day. It had to be at least eighty five degrees.

"We're not allowed to be out," I explained. "I mean, other then dates."

He nodded, and I could sense the awkwardness that lingered as we strolled farther into the garden. We hadn't been very close, honestly, but I did know that I had had a date or two more than most girls.

If I was upset, I didn't show it. In fact, I was pretty pleased to know that their as a life after James.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Without heels, it would be nice, I guess."

And there it was, the non-filtered side of me. The side that I tried to keep hidden when I was in Beckett's company. For one, me and him-- we were practically dating, even if he was dating many other girls here, and I wasn't about to ruin this relationship like the last one.

"I do think that heels would be rather uncomfortable to walk in," he admitted, staring ahead.

I nodded. "You say that now," I blurted out, "but you would be begging for mercy if you had to wear six inch heels through this place."

He laughed, and I should've been surprised, as other girls would've, but I wasn't. I was used to making other people mad or make them laugh. More frequent than not, they'd be mad.

"The struggles of being a lady," he teased lightly.

I pressed my lips together. "I'm not a lady," I cut in. "I'm not proper, that's what a lady is. The term girl is what your given automatically, but the term lady is something that your character shows."

He nodded and I felt prideful, really. The prince respected me, my opinion, and if that's all we feel towards each other, than I was fine with that.

"I guess I'm just used to calling the selected by their titles," he confessed to me.

But I'm not a selected, I thought. I'm a person.

"I think calling them by their name will be better," I said in a truly rude tone. "It makes us feel more like we're on your level."

He squinted his eyes, confused. I could tell easily that he was indeed clueless to what I meant, so feeling bad for his stupidity, I said, "We didn't all grow up in a palace with gold a riches."

As if it were his second instinct, he turned, his arm leaving mine. "I never meant to made you feel..."

I didn't let my eyes meet him. "I don't feel like anything other than me," I said. "I just think it'll be good for you to remember that I'm not like them, and I'm not here for your crown. Heck, I'm not even here for your heart."

He looked confused. Clearly confused, like he didn't know what was going on. I didn't blame him, either, because every girl there was in love with his looks or his bank account so far.

"Let me clarify," I said simply. "I just mean that I don't care what happens between us. Until I do."

Still confused.

"I don't understand what your asking of me," he admitted.

I shook my head. "I'm not asking anything from you. I'm telling you that I'm not a fake, I'm honest. And I'm being honest when I say that I didn't sign up for a chance to get the prince in bed."

Clenching his jaw, he looked uncomfortable as he smoothed out his jacket. "I have no intentions of--"

"Whatever," I interrupted. "I'm just telling you the truth, which is what you want, right?"

"Of course, but--"

"But nothing," I said. "You want the truth, and I'm pretty sure that none of them are going to be as honest as me."

Something flashed in his eyes. Admiration for my bravery, maybe.

"Go on," he said.

I smiled a little, releasing a stressed breath. "Once upon a time, there was a girl who worked in a bookstore and a boy who wished to buy a couple cookbooks."

"Why, who would be such a girl?" he asked, smiling.

"He was rich and nice to the eyes, and they soon fell in love." He stayed quiet. "But all good things must come to the end," I mourned. "And love is a coward."

The smile disappeared from his face faster than I could turn away. "Love isn't a coward."

I almost laughed. "Oh really?" I asked. "Because I think that it's pretty cowardice to make someone hurt so much."

He shook his head, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling under the sun. "That wasn't love," he said. "That was the missing you get after they leave."

His words were true, yet I didn't know how. After all, he was supposed to wait until this competition for a romantic relationship.

"You speak like you have experience," I said. "With pain, I mean. Not love."

That was her again, my rude side. He laughed. "Not personally."

He was lying, that much was clear.

"When you feel comfortable enough to be as honest as I was with you," I said. "You can talk to me again."

I didn't mean to be a jerk, it was just how I felt. I didn't like that I opened up and he didn't.

"Wait, Serena," he said, grabbing my shoulders.

That was an immediate turn off, being manhandled. I hated being pushed around, because it made me feel weak, and I was most definitely not weak.

"What do you want?" I hissed.

He smiled lightly, but not quite flirtatious. In fact, he seemed almost as if he was greetings a friend, a pal. "I think you nice," he admitted. "We could be friends..."

I scoffed. This competition wasn't about friendship, and even if I had no intention in winning his heart, I didn't want to be "friends." Because I was flawed right to the core.

And I couldn't handle friends.

"What a shame," I replied, spinning on my heel.

Friends. Weird word.

Wow. Serena, what would you do if I told you that he married your best friend...?