Labeled (A The Selection Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-One

The click of my heels, the sharp intake and exhale of each breath.  My last memories of the palace.

Sharp sounds, sharp thoughts.  Sharp like the needle of a compass.  The needle that currently is going haywire, back and forth, back and forth.  It can't make up it's mind.

Or rather, my heart can't make up it's mind.  Right in front of me the Fraussen Prestige Boarding school looms.  Tall and gleaming, bigger than the palace itself, it can't fit into anything.  Somehow, it found a place in my heart.  The needle points forward.

But then what is left behind?  What doors closed, opportunities wasted?   I turn around, unnoticed by the chauffeur.  The Palace isn't in sight anymore, but I imagine I can see it's gleaming windows, sprawling lawns, tame gardens.  I wish I could see the people inside it, hear the laughter that emanates inside the place I thought I could never belong.

I lean on my hand, not being able to comprehend leaving those people forever.  But I can't leave Fraussen either.  The relationships I have, the memories I can make in both places are endless. 

I just can't have the best of both worlds.

§§§§§

As Fraussen grows closer, it hits me hard.  No cameras, no palace, no royalty, no pressure, no Alexander, no Bridgette, no Selected, no Sarrione Report.  Nothing out of the ordinary.

Well, a boarding school for the most wealthy and famous of Sarrione, but that's just a rich kid problem.  I hate that.  I hate that I have "rich kid problems" while other people are starving, working all day and night.  I breathe heavily, the weight of unfairness settling for good on my shoulders.

I focus on calming my breathes down.  They are the one thing I can always have, the one thing that stays with me until my last second.  They never betray me, always stand by me.  They are motivation.  Just one more breath.  Three breathes to calm down.  Just breathe.  Keep breathing, it will be alright.

The thing is, the people saying those things usually don't understand what you are thinking, what you are going through.

They don't understand why your one constant is messing up.

I'm so involved at staring into space and thinking about life that I don't even notice when the chauffeur comes to my door and opens it to me, bowing.

I come back to the present, noticing the blood rushing to his face as he stays looking at the ground.

Awkward. "You don't um, need to do that, Sir." 

He stands up and politely and smiles at me shyly, "I'm obligated to, Lady Clarissa.  And the name's Mr. Smith."  He looks like he's in his fifties or sixties.

I flinch.  "But - You don't have to, and I really wish you wouldn't."

He grins, understanding that I just ordered him not to.  "As you wish, my Lady."  I raise an eyebrow, and he nods in understanding.  "Clarissa, right.  I have heard of how kind you are to your maids, I should have expected nothing less."  Nothing less than what?  I wonder in my head.  And how did he know about my maids? "Why - nothing less than your kind acceptance of people below you, and your maids may have let it slip."  Oops.  Apparently that wasn't in my head.  I blush.

"Thank you so much, sir.  I really don't believe that anyone is less than somebody else because of wealth, power, or social status.  The label we all wear?  It should be exactly what it was put in place for:  A way of organization, helping everyday life run smoothly.  Not a royal judgement.  Not a definition of who we are."  He seems stunned, and I can tell from his expression that from what it seems, all the years of his life he has been told his label defines him.  His eyes are glossy, and he draws in a slow breath.

"I-I don't - wow, I - you real-really mean that?"  He looks at me, touched and astounded.

"Of course."

He smiles warmly and his wet eyes sparkle.  "Clarissa, you've made my day.  Far more than that actually.  Thank you."  My heart warms and spreads warmth through my body at his kind words.

"No, thank you.  I really did nothing, Mr. Smith, I  just stated what should be the truth." 

Grabbing my bags out of the trunk, he responds, "I agree, Clarissa."

§§§§§

How is it that you think you know how much you've missed someone, but when you see them, you realize you have missed them ten times more than that?

I squeal, "Ah!  Beth!"  I hike up my dress's skirts, and start running, no matter how much Jacqueline would hate me.

"Clarissa!  I can't believe your finally here!"  We jump into each other, hugging and laughing.

"I know, me too!  I have so much to tell you and oh my gosh what has been happening here!"  I just peeked over her shoulder and to my joy I see a boy, repeat, a boy, standing behind us.

She stops laughing and follows my gaze, startled.  "Oh!  That's Casper, I call him Cass."

The boy has black hair and green eyes, and he waves sheepishly, "Hey, Lady Clarissa!"

Again, Awkward!  "Oh umm, just Clarissa please!"

He grins, walking towards us.  As he slings his arm around Beth, I grin as well, my smile certainly no match for theirs.

"Beth!"  I scold her, "You didn't tell me!"

She looks scared, as if I don't approve.  "I'm sorry, it just - things got so crazy around here and then I me-"

I interrupt her blabbing, "I am so happy for you!"

She smiles, happy and done with being nervous.  "Thanks."

And I am happy for her, but I can't help feeling a pang in my heart.  If she so effortlessly found love, why is it avoiding me?  I smile for the happy couple, but my heart is crying.

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