The Selection (Is A Modelling Competition)✔️

Chapter 11: Too Many Feelings

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You lost the bet.

I read the words again, blinking in confusion. What bet? Then I remembered Maxon's words from breakfast a few days ago: Would you bet on it?

I tried to recall what we had talked about... But all that came to mind was those delicious strawberry tarts. Think, America, think! And then it hit me.

I had bet him that May would cry if she tasted those tarts. But how in the world would he have known if May had cried, and how would May have gotten the chance to taste them? Quickly, I looked up. Maxon had slipped this note into my hand moments ago, after working with me on my posing - posing! I should have been focusing, not worrying about some silly bet. It was ridiculous.

"America Singer!" It was Silvia's voice over the loudspeaker, and it meant I had to walk the runway.

I took a deep breath, and did my best not to screw up. I attempted to remember the poses Maxon taught me about, but it was all a blur. Posture? Smiling? Walking?

I tried to do what felt natural, walking with my head up and facing forwards, with as "fierce" an expression as I could summon. I was a tiger lily after all.

The end of the runway grew closer, and panic gripped my heart, pushing it to work overtime. Then I was at the end, and my pose was... What was it? All of a sudden, I heard Maxon's voice in my head. Hand on your hip, head to the side. Don't smile. You have nothing to prove to anybody. I did what (imaginary) Maxon said, all while the flash was blinding me. Someone shouted a word that might have been "beautiful!", or "fierce!" but I wasn't sure.

Finally, it was over, and I walked off of the runway, feeling surprisingly tired as I watched Marlee model. She looked like a natural, her expression almost blank except for the trace of a smile, her walk somehow both confident and happy as she embodied a daisy perfectly. At the end, she went into a pose that would be too cutesy on anyone else but perfect on her. I clapped for her when she walked back. "Marlee, you were great!"

"Oh, thanks! You really think so?" She grinned at me. "I mean, I never really did this whole fashionable, makeup girly thing back home, because I wanted to focus on studying more. But now I kind of regret it."

"Don't. You'd be boring if you did."

She laughed. "Not as boring as Bariel." Bariel was friends with Celeste, as pretty as she was, but light where she was olive-skinned, blonde where she was brunette. Unfortunately, they were both just as cruel and shallow.

"That's true." Just then, Maxon walked over.

"The two of you did very well today," he praised. Marlee blushed. I tried not to feel anything. Aspen, you're with Aspen. You don't need anymore complications in your life.

Unfortunately, it looked like I would get it anyways.

"Oh, what bet did I lose?" I brought up the question when Marlee had gone back to her room for free time, claiming fatigue.

"The strawberry tart bet." He raised an eyebrow, looking a little hurt that I'd forgotten.

"Yeah, but how did you get them to May? How'd you know if she cried?" How am I supposed to trust you - and why does it feel like I already do?

"Oh, that!" He says it with the air of a rich boy, silver-spoon-fed and manor-born. Like money is nothing - but it is everything. I am reminded that I barely know him, that there are thirty-four other girls he should be paying attention to, that we are from entirely different worlds. "I had someone ship it to your family, and made them watch to see if she cried. She didn't write you?" He looks concerned, and all my previous worries vanish when faced with his warm brown eyes.

"I - no." He touches my arm. I blink hard, trying to remember what I was going to ask him. "What do I have to do for losing the bet, then? It's awfully rude of you to make me lose a bet that you never told me about it set terms for." He's not rude at all, though, not when he's smiling at me like that and when he sent my family pastries.

"Then let's set the terms now."