First Love ♛ The Selection

5 ⭑ You, But Amped

AURORA

I'd made a lot of bad decisions in my lifetime. I was eleven when I forced my first kiss with Isaac Richmond, my twelve-year-old costar, at the premiere afterparty. I was eight when I poured honey on Sophie's hair, which I think might be the reason she resented me still. I was fourteen when I promised a director I could do my own stunts and broke my toe. I was eighteen when I submitted my name for the Selection, fully aware that my family would despise me for it. Mom, Dad, and Sophie barely spoke a word to me all week, and maybe never would again, if Dad's promise of disowning me stayed intact. Making bad decisions wasn't hard. Everybody did.

But three-inch yellow heels was my worst decision yet.

My ankles were fine when I left the apartment, stepping into the sleek palace car with no problem. The heels were shiny and open-toed and matched the dyed yellow rose, Waverly's province flower, in my hair, the only two bits of color I could add to the Selected uniform of a white shirt and black pants. I couldn't resist wearing them, and didn't want to borrow from Mom, but I'd only stood to the side of the Central Park stage for five minutes before I realized they were a terrible idea. And an eight hour plane ride trapped in them? Pure torture.

But I put on a brave, pain-free face. A quarter of the population of Waverly cheered below the stage, some with signs, some with flowers, some with pictures of me and pens to go with them, which I would sign if I ever got to leave the stage. Last week, the palace assigned me a shrill woman named Tammy for an aid, and she demanded I leave as soon as possible after the ceremony. Maybe there was time for a hug for my brothers or a kiss on the cheek for Mom, but no more. (Mom wouldn't let me get near her anyway.)

In the week since the announcement, I'd been given more lectures and pricked with more pins than ever. Two unattractive guards gave me identical palace safety lectures and a woman with a visibly clogged nose went over the other rules. I remembered three things: that I was already in danger of getting attacked and needed guards with me at all times; I was, for all intents and purposes, property of Illéa now, and had to take care of myself (he didn't add an 'or else' to the end, but it sure was implied); and that the nasally woman had no sense of boundaries, because she asked me plainly if I was a virgin. I wasn't stupid, and obviously wouldn't break Illéan law, but Mom still snorted at the question.

The mayor gestured offstage to me, putting on his best Natalia Ross impression. "Please join me in sending off the daughter of Leonard and Darcy Wilder, our very own Daughter of Illéa, Aurora Wilder!"

The crowd erupted when I came on stage, even louder than before. The mayor turned to me with a warm smile and offered the mic. "Anything you'd like to say?"

I took it without hesitation, facing the crowd. Right when the noise went down, somebody shouted out, "I love you!"

It made me laugh, my shoulders loosening up. "Love you, too," I muttered, switching the mic to my right hand. I felt sweaty. "Thank you for coming, everybody. Didn't expect this many people to care." There was a chorus of laughs, and I grinned, looking out at them all. I tried to find any familiar faces, Kiara or Maude or even Pierce, but the crowd was so thick that it was impossible. "I'm not sure what to say. I'm used to a script." More laughs. "I... I can't wait to start this journey, wherever it goes. I don't know what to expect, I'm no psychic, so your guess is as good as mine." My cheeks were sore—was I still grinning? "But I swear I'll do my best, so. You can hold me to that."

I added a wink, and the crowd cheered in ripples. I handed the mic back to the mayor, who jumped into another speech, listing off my attributes and achievements. When he finished, I waved to the crowd, and Tammy tugged me off stage in no time. "Quick and quiet goodbyes!" she chirped.