Chapter 19
Hope is a dangerous, dangerous thing to feel in this competition.
Especially since Nathan seems completely indifferent towards me, Peter sees me as more of a piece of amusement than anything else, and Lancas… Well, you could replace him with a fancy vase, and it wouldn’t change much.
So I take the silly, dangerous feeling, and I shove it down, down, down to the place within me where I keep all my anguish and tear and anxiety. Then I smile at Jessica. “I’m fine, just a little tired. Do you think you can help me undress?”
She nods, putting the phone away in her pocket. “Of course.”
While Jessica helps me undress, Lucy assists June. Once we’re out of the elegant but stuffy dresses with our hair free of all the pins and clips, I sigh in relief as some of the tension lifts.
I tell the maids that June and I wish to nap.
“We’ll be back by five to help you get ready for the banquet.”
“Right.” I resist the urge to let out an exaggerated sigh of frustration. Tonight, for the first time, the contestants will dine with the Ashfords.
I push away that thought for now, already knowing that thinking too much about the coming event will stress me out more.
After they leave, I crawl into bed with June, and my little sister curls into me, wrapping her arms around my waist tightly.
I stroke her hair gently, humming softly as her breathing evens out. And then, just as my eyes close and I feel the sweet oblivion of sleep approach, June whispers, her soft voice barely audible in the quiet room, “I hope you win, too,”
And I don’t have the heart to tell my baby sister that people like us don’t get the luxury of hope.
===
At five on the dot, Jessica, Lucy, and the usual stylist team help me prepare for the banquet.
“What about June?” I ask when no one moves towards her as usual.
Lucy shakes her head. “She’s not allowed at tonight’s banquet. It’s strictly contestants only.”
That information makes me want to sit back on the bed in a huff, kick my feet, and demand that if my sister can’t go, I won’t either. But not only would a tantrum be juvenile, it probably wouldn’t work, and I’ll just cement my already–existing reputation as a troublemaker.
So, with June watching me curiously from the bed, I let myself be groomed as usual, feeling the tension creep back into me with every dust of the brushes and every clip and pin put back into my hair.
And afterward, when I step into another gorgeous dress, the tension coils tightly in my belly, informing me that it’s here to stay–at least for the night.
While I stare at myself in the mirror, studying the beautiful stranger looking back at me, June climbs off the bed and sidles up to me.
Her big grey eyes take in my reflection, and she gives a wistful sigh. “You look beautiful, Spring.”
I glance down at her, feeling a genuine smile tug on my lips. “You think so?”
She nods enthusiastically. “You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.”
I laugh, not believing her for a second, but just a tiny bit of tension leaves me, my little sister’s words giving me a small confidence boost. I study myself in the mirror again, taking in my perfectly made–up face and the outfit the stylists picked for tonight.
This dress is a rich dark red one–shouldered number. On the left, the sleeve is made of soft mesh and reaches my wrist, while my right shoulder and arm are bare, and a long slit on the right reaches halfway up my thighs.
For a moment, I’m transfixed by the beauty and expert workmanship of the dress. It reminds me of something I designed once, a long time ago, and I wonder what it would be like if I’d had the opportunity to-
