Illéa High

Every year one lucky girl and one lucky boy get an invitation to attend the prestigious Illéa High, the school for the ones and twos of the country. Which is also located in Angeles, the most populated province in the country.

Everyone gets entered for the drawing when they turn fifteen, you have no choice. Most teens would love it if they got chosen, but me? Not so much.

Unlike those other teens I actually have a life outside of making sure I look good or gaming in my basement. I have friends and a boyfriend here in Carolina. If I got picked to go to Illéa High, my life would change; not for the better.

The annual drawing of the two names always takes place two weeks before the start of the school year. August 28 was this year's date. This was the second year my name has been in that huge glass box that looks like it costs a more than my neighborhood.

On the TV the Principle and the Vice Principle are talking on the huge stand that sits behind the glass box that holds the names of all the fifteen to nineteen year olds in Illéa. My mother turns the mute off when they start the ceremony.

"America! America! Will you take me to your new school if you get picked for the Elite Illéan school?" May asks me while jumping on the couch.

"May, I don't think I will even get picked. It's just not likely," I tell her in my sweetest tone. She always gets her hopes up, and it hurts me to break that hope.

"You will America, I believe in you! You, America Singer, going to school with the ones and twos of the country! Famous actors' kids, and models' kids and just everyone, that's like, famous!" May squeals and throws her arms up like she is throwing confetti.

"Calm down May, it's just two people out of like millions. I'm not going to get picked. And I don't want to get picked," I explain to my dear, little sister.

She pouts and then cuddles up with mom and dad on on couch, while I sit in a worn, but loved, chair.

"America, sweetheart, if you do get picked, be thankful! It is an honor to get picked to go to Illéa High," my mom says and looks thoughtfully at me.

Since Kota is kind of out of the picture, and he was a screwup, kind of, my mom puts all the pressure on me to be the perfect child. Being the perfect child isn't hard, I would just rather not be it. Yes, I have good grades, and yes I babysit May when my parents need to work, and yes I have a nice personality, but with all that, I'm still not exactly perfect. No one can be perfect.

"If I do get picked, I will be thankful mom. I promise you I will be, but like I told May, it's just not likely I'll get in. It's a one in a billion chance," I glance at my mom who isn't even paying me any attention anymore because the Principal is talking on the television.

"I am so pleased to be able to welcome in two more people to our loving school, this will be my twentieth year picking from this glass case full of potential," the Principal on the screen says in a sugary tone. I want to barf it's so sugary and fake.

The speech he is making goes on for a few more agonizing minutes. After the Principal was finally done, the vice Principal came up to speak. Noooo why another speech? Haven't they talked enough? Just get to the damn drawing!! I screamed in my head.

Good thing this speech was shorter and less fake. The second speech didn't make me want to barf. After half an hour passed by with the speeches they finally were getting to the drawing. Then a commercial for a type of cereal popped up and everyone sat back in their seats and sighed.

The commercials go on for about five to ten minutes and the podium and the glass case appear on the screen again. The sort of fake smiles from the Principal and Vice Principal set me on edge. They seem so unrealistic, the school is unfathomable, the kids who go there just seem too nice and clean. Just the whole system seems played out and fake.