The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training || Loki x Reader

Chapter 4

You hear the bell-tone of your cell, over and over again. Picking it up, you see texts popping up, some from numbers you don't even recognize.

ru watching good nite america

Is that really you?!

omg congrats!

Wow that sux

ur pic looks great

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

i cant believe it! great job!

(Y/N)!

Congrats, (Y/N)!!!!!!!11111!!!!

(Y/N), u there?

A visit to your Facebook page yields similar results, especially once people see you're online. A second later, the house phone starts ringing, and the rest of your family snaps out of their collective stupor. Mom leaps up to grab the phone, Erik and Carlie crowd around you, Dad storms out of the room...

"Are you okay?" That's Erik, shaking your shoulder gently. "(Y/N)?"

"Yes, she's right - " She pauses to glance back at you. " - oh, no, she's in the shower. Of course, I'll tell her you called - oh, I have a call waiting, can you hold? Hello? This is Mrs. (LN). Oh, (Y/N) isn't available right now, but I'll let her know you called..." The calls are coming in faster than Mom can field them, the texts flashing across your phone screen like gunfire.

"I'm fine." Your voice sounds hollow, distant. Like it's coming from someone else. Dimly, you're aware of the fact that you're standing up again, clutching your cell phone. You walk up the stairs, Carlie at your heels. You climb under the blankets fully clothed, not even bothering to turn off the lights, and, with your little sister huddled besides you, you close your eyes and try, try to sleep.

**********************************************************************

Thank God for best friends. If it weren't for Steven, you'd never make it through school alive.

"I can't believe your parents are making you go to school," he mutters. You shrug and nod, as if to say, I know, right?

As it is, you aren't too sure you will make it out of this building alive - sure, there are some girls that you are friendly with, some that support you, some that pity you (in the nicest way possible)...but you've received a handful of glances that carry more than a little malintent. Case in point: most of the girls in your eighth period chemistry class are too nice (or, at present, too focused on saponification) to glare or make snide comments. But at the lab table next to you, Lara Jennings is staring at you with such intensity, you're almost afraid her goggles will melt.

"Is it five minutes to passing yet?" you whisper. Steven's gaze flickers to his watch before he shakes his head, and you draw your lips into a pout. Steven, bless his soul, is pretending to have a sprained ankle so that you can be his book carrier and leave class early with him, thus saving you from those four minutes of passing period hell. In class, nobody can do much, but the hallways are fair game. As it is, there are some places you can't avoid, like the cafeteria, for instance. Or gym. I swear, if Annabelle Wilkes makes one more comment about how corseting is sure to do wonders for my figure, I will throw her stupid purse so hard it, it'll end up in the boys' locker room.

Not that Annabelle would mind. After all, it would be just another excuse to prance around the gym in her booty shorts and sports bra, whining to Coach, winking at whatever poor boy accepted the task of returning the pocketbook.

But you digress. You don't take science with Annabelle; nor do you share a ninth period class, thank God. Finally, Steven raises his hand, and, upon receiving a nod from the teacher, limps to the hallway. You follow after, sighing in relief when the door shuts behind you.

Steven falls into a normal gait besides you. "One period left."

You groan. "Oh, God..."

He grimaces apologetically. "Sorry."

"What? No need to apologize. I'm, like, super psyched," you whisper back sarcastically.

"Really?"

You roll your eyes. "No, genius. I'm freaking out. You really think I want this?"

"No. But it looks like you're alone on that one."

You push open the door to the stairs. "Huh?"

As if on cue, Anna Wilke's nasally voice rises up through the stairwell. "...totally hot, from what I saw."

One of her friends - Lydia, you think her name is - pipes up. "It's the hair. Ugh, Bells, I'm so jealous! I literally missed the cut off by a week. So unfair."

You freeze as they reach the landing. Annabelle gives you a disgusted once-over before plastering a faker-than-her-breasts smile on her face. She looks perfect, of course - auburn hair piled on top of her head in a strategically messy bun, scarf adorning her collarbone, her stick-figure physique enhanced by the water bra. "(Y/N), sweetie! So funny meeting you here!"

You grimace. Be polite. "Hi, Annabelle." Honestly, if you weren't in the same grade, you'd have no idea who she was. As it is, she never paid any attention to you until your name was drawn. Just another one of the many, many perks of being Chosen.

"I can't believe you'll be gone in - what? Less than twenty-four hours?" She looks not to you for confirmation, but to Lydia, who nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I'm, um, pretty nervous."

She raises an eyebrow. "I can tell. Just a word of advice, from one girl to another, I'd lay off on the stress eating, all right? What'll happen'll happen. No point in worrying if King Loki will like you, because it's never gonna happen, right?" Before you have a chance to respond, she looks to Lara and jerks her chin in the direction of the exit. "Anyway, toodles, and break a leg! Make sure you give us a shoutout!" She winks at Steven before sauntering out of the stairwell.

You turn to Steven with a look of disbelief, and he nods, looking equally as disgusted. "Did she just - "

"Some girls think it's exciting. You know, they want to be you." He whacks your shoulder playfully. "She's intimidated of you."

You shake your head, glancing over your shoulder one last time. "That's, like, revolting. And honestly, does she really think I've got any chance of becoming queen? I mean, what were the chances it was anyone from our class? From our school, even? Zero." You throw your hands up in the air. "I'm sixteen! She's sixteen! I don't want to get married!" It feels good saying it out loud, and Steven does nothing to stop you as you continue to rant. "This whole situation is, like, stupid beyond belief. I should be focused on passing quarterly exams, and AP exams, and...okay, so I hate tests, but this is like an even bigger test, you know? I don't want people watching me try to not be noticed by 'His Majesty,'" you say, adding air quotes at the end. He shrugs. "And, and, like, why am I the only teenager? It's like, thirty, twenty nine, twenty seven, twenty five, twenty one, and then boom!Sixteen-year-old! What the hell?" Slightly calmer, you make to continue down the next flight of stairs, but... "Steven?"

"Yeah?"

You look down at your t-shirt and jeans. "Have I really gained that much weight?"

He rolls his eyes. "(Y/N)..."

"I'm serious!"

"First of all, just because I'm a guy doesn't mean you get to make me into your sassy gay friend who you can go to for fashion advice, all right? I have a girlfriend. And, second of all, don't let Annabelle Wilkes get into you head, all right?"

"Regardless of your sexual orientation, you are my sassiest friend by far, and I can and will go to you for fashion advice. And..." You sigh. "Thanks."

He rubs your arm as you two head down the stairs, just as the first bell rings. In forty five more minutes, you will be back home dealing with the same obnoxious government officials who have been in and out of your house all week, finishing up last-minute paperwork, picking out a Transport Day outfit, and then tomorrow...

Well.

You don't want to think about tomorrow.

Instead, you scrunch up your nose, thinking again about what Annabelle said. Really, I haven't been stress eating that much...