The Selection + SGE

Sophie

Every muscle in my body was screaming. This wasn't the light, acceptable burn I got from climbing up Graves Hill, instead, it was an all-consuming tightness that made me feel so heavy.

The things we do for love.

Teddy would know, eventually, obviously. I had made a plan during training, between the shouting of the head guard and the pitiful crying of my roommate.

1) Survive training - Check (it was much more difficult than it sounds)

2) Meet Teddy and become his friend

3) Change back to my natural gorgeous self and dazzle him so much he doesn't even realise i'm not one of the selected (I mean, really, it was a mistake I wasn't picked the first time)

4) Make him fall in love with me

5) Have a beautiful wedding where the main entertainment shall be the banishment of a particular traitorous little witch

5.1) And have pink flamingos in the fountain and-

-he's crying again.

Seriously?

My roommate still insists that the room is his; how wrong he is. When I arrived I could see traces of him everywhere - his belongings were strewn over the floor and pictures of him and another girl at various ages littered the walls. If I hadn't been so tired, the first thing I would have done would have been to kick him in the behind and force him to clean the room with some convincing from my feminine wiles.

In the end I just threw one of his socks back at him and fell straight asleep.

If I smother him with a pillow, will he stop crying?

But I can't do that.

With my luck he'd report me to our supervisor.

He's fortunate I haven't reported him to our supervisor.

For the love of all thing pretty and pink, his botched dye job is a thing of nightmares.

The boy couldn't find his way around a hairbrush, let alone hair dye. The colour was a sickening pale blond that made me wince every time was forced to look upon it.

I wake up. It is there.

I eat. It is there.

I turn over in bed. It is still there!

There's a pair of scissors in my bag with his name on it.

It was the off brand Teddy-gold that made it worse, like he was trying to be everything that a prince was while smelling like week-old sewage. I know that Teddy smells amazingly-how could he not?

One of the girls at my tutoring group bought one of those tacky perfume bottles reportedly containing some of his sweat. How awful that must be for him, so many random girls hanging on his every word, smelling his sweat; its almost stalkerish. When I get into power, I would cease all such fads. The people may look at us as we draw them in, the power couple of the century, but if one runty Radley sprayed a bottle of my sweat around his house I might throw up.

No, I wouldn't let it happen.

I may be their queen, they will worship me.

But I have boundaries.

Do not cross them.

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