FIRST LOVE ♛ The Selection

3 ⭑ Suck It, Summer

"Yeah, as if I need the money."

I hit her shoulder with the back of my hand, but I couldn't hide my laugh. "You will when you get eliminated," I said instead, just as Summer jumped up from the loveseat.

"Everybody shut up!" she shouted, and, surprisingly, the room listened to her call. On a regular day, I wouldn't listen to a word out of Summer's constantly-moving mouth, but it was like somebody pressed a mute button on the room. Or, like Natalia Ross came on screen.

The audience on set of the Report burst into applause, and we echoed it. Thankfully, I already had a prime spot on the couch—Nathan had to squeeze himself next to Maude, and Robin took the last seat on the floor, all of us desperate to get every word.

"Thank you, thank you!" Natalia called over the applause, grin dancing on her face. Anytime Natalia appeared on the Report, it meant something exciting, something important, a royal interview or a royal event or a royal death (but that only happened once, when I was eight or so). Tonight was the biggest event anybody our age had ever seen.

"Good evening, Illéa!" she exclaimed, and the crowd erupted again. Natalia let the noise settle before jumping in. "We all know why we're here, don't we?" More applause, and she chuckled, letting it settle again. "Then I won't waste our time. Let's check in with our royal family, shall we?"

She strode right over to them, the three thrones side by side, Queen Samara in the center, Prince Thomas and Princess Cecily to her right. Natalia approached the queen first. "Good to see you, Your Majesty."

The camera centered on Queen Samara, who, in her fifteen years as sovereign, hadn't changed a bit. When I was little, five or six or something, the Report was my favorite show, because every week, the queen would come on screen wearing some beautiful new gown, sitting in her throne besides her beautiful family, Prince Consort Julian at her right side, sometimes a little Prince Thomas at her left. Even now, she had barely aged, the same refined calm sewn into her face like the jewels sewn in her blue gown. Back then, Dad didn't hate her so much, and wouldn't correct me whenever I loudly claimed she was the best queen ever. Dad wasn't usually home on Friday nights, anyway.

Natalia curtsied, a motion that would've been awkward for anybody else wearing a deep red pantsuit. "How are you this evening?"

"Quite well," the queen replied. Her tiara gleamed in the studio light. "Thank you."

"Excited, are we?"

The queen paused, an unbearably elegant smile on her lips. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't breathing in the energy," she confessed. "We're about to meet a lovely group."

"Better than your Selection, even?"

She let out a rare chuckle. "Well, ladies do tend to behave better than suitors." The audience laughed, and I hid my smile behind my fingers. "I have high hopes for my son, and the choice that will be made."

"Wonderfully said, Your Majesty, thank you. And speaking of our prince..."

Her gaze, along with the camera's, settled in on Prince Thomas. My heart skipped--I felt embarrassed for a second before I remembered nobody could hear it. Kiara whistled, which made Billie and Maude giggle, but my ears rang. Even more than Natalia, even more than the queen, Prince Thomas stole all the attention from the room. Maybe it was just a royal thing, to steal attention away like that, to keep it tucked under your arm until you decided to let go. Yeah, having a crush on the literal prince probably wasn't worth my time. But everybody did, so who cared?

Today, he wore a dark gray suit, this time paired with a dark blue tie. Natalia waited for the cheering again. I made a mental note to learn that trick for the Play It Sane press tour. "Your Highness," she began with a smile. "Have you gotten a look at any of the lucky ladies yet?"