One
Before You Stands the Future. The dark-red banner strung across the storefront awning matches the dozens of others lining the streets of the shopping district. Each one with the same clock counting down to Acceptance. Tomorrow morning can't get here soon enough.
I push the glowing blue button and the door slides open with a staccato puff of air. Overhead, an electric bell dings as I shuffle into the upscale boutique packed with other Candidates. Cheryl is right behind me, bouncing on her toes with each step. My mother would die of embarrassment if I showed the same lack of decorum as my best friend, but I'm bouncing on the inside. Our mothers walk in behind us and the door slides shut with another whoosh of air.
We visited half the shops in Cardinal City this morning in our search for the perfect dresses and dyed-to-match shoes. I got a thrill buying my first pair of silk gloves, Cheryl and I gushing over the tiny pearl buttons, but this is the purchase I'm looking forward to the most.
Shelves bursting with dance cards cover every square inch of wall space. Dozens of girls sigh and squeal over the small books we'll use to record the names of our dance partners for tomorrow's ball. I wipe damp palms against the cool material of my skirt and force myself to focus on the goal. One of these books is the perfect one for me. Hopefully, by the end of tomorrow night, it will hold the name of my future husband.
"Isn't anyone going to help us?" My mother stares through the crowd of sixteen-year-old girls fawning over the books covering the display cases.
"Now, Mavis, we can hardly expect too much out of the salesmen." Cheryl's mother's smile covers her face like a masquerade-ball mask. "Their pay is even less than a processor's." She lays a hand on her chest, appearing absolutely scandalized to the untrained eye.
"Dreadful," my mother responds, her gloved fingers gripping the top of her handbag. "Of course, we both know all the money in the world can't buy good manners."
I've been watching this back-and-forth all day. Cheryl's mother making little comments about how expensive Cardinal City must be for some people, knowing full well that my father's processor salary doesn't make a trip like this easy. My mother responding about the number of things money can't buy, being equally aware that Cheryl's occasional lack of refinement is a sore spot for her mother.
Maybe shopping together was a bad idea, but this is such a special weekend and I can't imagine not sharing it with Cheryl. We only get one Acceptance ceremony, one chance to make the right first impression on our entrance into society. Between the ceremony and the celebration ball later in the evening, tomorrow is the most important day of our lives. I grab Cheryl's elbow and lead her over to one of the less-crowded cases so our mothers can snip at each other without us.
Cheryl takes one look at the case and turns back toward the most crowded section of the room. "Rebecca, these books are so old-fashioned. I'm looking for a dance card that speaks volumes about the kind of woman a man can expect me to be."
Speaking volumes is one of the first things he'll notice about Cheryl.
I bite my lip for even thinking such an ugly thing. My mother must be rubbing off on me today. Cheryl may be chatty, but she's the sweetest person I know. Any young man would be lucky to sign her dance card. "I think the newer books are closer to the front of the store. You go ahead. I want to wait until it clears out a bit first."
Cheryl gives my arm a squeeze and practically skips over to the other cases. The books here are older, but there's something charming about them. The newer ones in the display window have a small screen on the front that flashes the owner's name. Gentlemen can type in their name to reserve dances for the ball or even scan their OneCard once we get them after the ceremony.
