“Bitch, I’m Riverdale,” I snort out, trying to hold in my laugh. My life has become some Freeform teenage dramedy.
We head in the direction of our first period class.
“I hear it’s supposed to happen this week. Only two more days are left, so it’s either today or tomorrow. My money is on it happening today,” I overhear Meagan speaking to Summer as Shay and I take our seats.
Mr. Jameson calls the class to attention, “Okay, everyone let’s take out our assign—” His words are cut off as a group of men enter the room. The five of them are dressed in matching black suits, slate gray button-up dress shirts, black ties, and black dress shoes. They’re all holding small white boxes and a bouquet of white lilies.Is this some elaborate way to ask someone to homecoming?I thought they only did things like this for prom.
“Ah, yes, gentlemen, you’re right on time.” Mr. Jameson nods, an approving smile crests his usually stern face as he strides to his desk and relinquishes the floor.
Leaning over, I whisper to Shay, “What the hell is this all about?”
Shrugging, she says, “Oh, the usual Edgewood Elite bullshit.”
Before I can ask her anything else, the first guy steps forward and announces, “Every year, Edgewood begins its society event season with the pinning of the heirs.”
I should’ve known this would have something to do with the damn elite.
“This year is different. It’s a selection year. Every five generations, the original bloodlines must choose a potential bride, a pin from an heir signifies your start in the selection process.”
Holy shit, this is what the selection is?
“Did we travel back in time?” I ask Shay.
“No, but hush so we can find out what this is all about,” she says, returning her attention to the front of the room.
“You will not know who chose you, and your participation is non-negotiable. This is a great honor being bestowed upon five of you. You will ensure the continuation of not only a great tradition but of the power that Edgewood holds in the world.”
The world?I scrunch my face in confusion. This town gets weirder every day.
This must’ve been what Meagan was whispering about this morning. I can’t believe this is what Sam and the other girls are raving over. Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest, hoping he’ll get on with it.
As if he could hear my internal complaint, he moves from the front of the room and heads toward Brittany Livingston. She is one of Samantha’s lemmings. A tall mousy looking girl with brunette hair, alabaster skin, and green eyes.
“Brittany,” he pauses, handing her the box and flowers. She accepts, jumping up and down and squealing with excitement.
Surveying the room, none of her friends looked happy for her.So much for sister solidarity.
As the first guy walks back to the front, the second one walks and stops in front of Meagan. Her shriek is so loud you can’t hear what he says to her.
Two more guys repeat the same process, one going to Summer Anderson, the other to Bethany Thomson. You can see the anger growing in Sam’s face with each pick.
Would I be a bitch if I said I hope she doesn’t get selected?Well then, I’m that bitch and will forever be that bitch.
The last dude up begins to move, and fuck me, he’s heading toward our row. I think he’s going to pick Shay!
Twisting my body, I turn to offer her my condolences when I hear the clack of his soles stop at my desk and a finger tap my shoulder. Shay’s eyes are as big as saucers and about to pop out of her head.
“Bitchhh, I think someone is tapping you on your shoulder,” she whisper yells.
“You think if I close my eyes and click my heels together, I’ll wake up from this nightmare?” I ask, still ignoring the taps on my shoulder.
I can’t ignore his voice as it booms, rattling my eardrums. “Ariah Bishop, you have been selected.” I want to refuse him, but the stupid contract’s last rule plays on repeat:you must marry within the Edgewood Elite.
Oh, for fuck’s sake!I didn’t think I would have to consider doing that.
Grudgingly, I turn to accept his stupid flowers, but before I can extend my arm, a cry comes from across the room.
“How the fuck is this bitch one of the fucking chosen, Wes?” Samantha is standing in front of the heirs, her nostrils flaring, face seething, as she radiates rage.
