Labeled (A The Selection Fanfiction)

Chapter Four

As I get to the airport, I see three other girls waiting. I guess I'm was late, but my watchscreen (like an apple watch) says its 9:00 AM, right when we are supposed to arrive. Everyone else must be early.

I take a look at the girls, all dressed in the same white shirt and black pants that I am. One of them looks ridiculously arrogant, glancing around like everyone is below her. It doesn't become her at all. I wonder what labels they are. Elite and Prestige are my guesses to the first two. The supposed Elite has beautiful blonde hair that reminds me of Beth. I miss her so much. Her eyes are grey, and against her pale complexion it has a stunning effect. I feel like I have seen her picture before in a magazine or a movie.

The girl standing next to her has dark brown hair. She has brown eyes to match her hair, and against her honey-toned skin she looks like she belongs at the beach. I wonder if she lives near it, probably in the south beaches on the west coast. The major city down there is Angeles, right next to the coast line.

I live in a major city, but on the wrong side of the country to go swimming. The water is too cold where I live. I have been to the beach a lot though, I really enjoy the weather and the sand, but not the water. I can't get over the fact that sharks, fish, seaweed, and other things live in there! That is my only irrational fear. Otherwise I am not a girly-girl at all.

The last girl is sitting on the bench near the check-in building. She has auburn hair, freckles, and blue eyes. From her diffident posture, she looks insecure. So maybe she's a Modest? Or maybe like me, she doesn't have a lot of self-confidence to go off of as a Prestige.

I walk over to them, trying to appear sure of myself while on the inside I am a jumbled mess.

"Hello, I'm Clarissa." I say to them, trying to be friendly. They all look at me and their eyes widen in understanding of who I am. I stand, frozen.

"Hi, I'm Bridgette Montgomery from Angeles. And a Prestige. But you should know that. You're the Dossen girl, right?" the girl with brown hair says haughtily, adding a huff of air at the end of each sentence. It sounded like she was throwing her words at me.

Okay, I cannot let her know how intimidating she is.

"No, I didn't know that. Yes, Arielle Dossen is my mother and Peter Dossen is my father." Take that, Bridgette. I could see her cringe beneath her facade for a second, but then she went back to her normal self. I looked over at the other girls, who had been moving their heads back in forth as if watching a fight. I smiled at them and arched an eyebrow sarcastically. Whatever! I mouthed, putting my hands on my hips and striking a pose. I made sure I was out of Bridgette's view.

They laughed but quickly covered their mouths with their hands and motioned for me to come over.

"I'm Cecilia, but you can call me Cece. I'm from Whites." The blonde girl said as she watched Eleanor laugh. I didn't think it was that funny, but maybe she has a great sense of humor.

"Oh, I'm Eleanor. I live in Waverly." Eleanor said between her small laughs. She seemed shy, and her name seemed regal. It reminded me that we were all in a competition to become a princess.

"Nice to meet you guys," I said politely, and then added, "Do you know what's up with Bridgette?" She had moved to stand on her five inch heels fifty feet away from us, like we carried a disease she didn't want to catch.

"Oh, well," Said Cece, standing up. She imitated Bridgett's stance.

"I'm a Prestige. My life is so much more valuable than yours and - ew! - look at what you're wearing. Did you have to steal those from the thrift shop? You should get that fixed." She pointed a finger at us and gave us a face that clearly said: I pity you - not.