A Rose to Keep (The Society 1)

Heather snorted. “Hot nerds are in right now.”

“I don’t think fat chicks will ever be in.”

Heather groaned and shoved me. She knew I had no problems with my weight. My curves were fucking awesome. There was a time, many years ago, when Drew found me in the bathroom. I’d attempted to throw up. Public school wasn’t easy. I’d stepped into school and immediately gotten the title of fatty, cow, pig, and many other names. For a short time, I’d been ashamed of my weight. Drew had helped me so much. She refused to allow me to go down that path, and every single opportunity she had, she taught me about self-love. Not loving only myself, or being pretentious, but actually accepting and loving myself for who I was.

It took me a long time to embrace who I was, and I only really started doing it after she died. I felt it was shaming her memory to fall back on bad habits. Every day, I took a moment to think of all she taught me, and in doing so, I learned to accept and love my body for what it was, mine.

Everyone, including my skinny mother, could kiss my voluptuous ass. I wasn’t changing for anyone.

We both ended up giggling on the sofa.

“I better get ready.” Heather was already dressed in the uniform. I disappeared into my room, quickly swapping my torn jeans for the skirt and shirt, tie, and left the blazer. I was way too hot.

After grabbing my bag and stuffing it with what I needed, I entered the sitting room.

Heather looked like she’d fallen asleep.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I was up all night studying. You know how it is,” she said.

Heather’s stress levels always tripled when we were back here. If her grades began to fall at any time, she was out. Simple as that. They only wanted a genius. Not a slacker.

“You know you’re amazing, right? You’ve got this.”

“I know. I need to stay on top of everything, Sian. I’ve got my future riding on this year.”

I kissed my friend’s head. “You’re going to do great.”

“I hope so.”

I took her hand, and together, we left the dorm, heading out into the courtyard. There were no more cars in sight. The parents had dropped us all off.

We didn’t linger and instead made it into the main hall, finding seats in the back. Teachers were already seated, waiting, and slowly, students began to walk in, taking seats. Girls were giggling. Guys were fist-bumping or randomly grabbing a girl and kissing her.

Of course, the Saintly Devils were the last to arrive, taking their seats up front. All four of them appeared to have gotten taller, and if I wasn’t mistaken, more muscular as well. The blazers looked like they were ready to pop right off their shoulders.

It was way too warm for tights, and I hated how small the skirt was. I kept reaching down to the hem, tugging at it. Heather grabbed my hand, locking our fingers together to stop me from fidgeting.

The principal stood up and welcomed everyone back. The speech was the same one she used last year, and the year before that. It was boring, tedious, but it clearly made her feel powerful and in control.

I checked the time and like clockwork, she finished her speech, ready for us to get to our first class.

“How long do you think she’s been doing that speech?” Heather asked.

“Ever since she took the seat in office,” I said.

We both burst out laughing. There was nothing political about this school, and yet, everything seemed to be.

“I’ve got to go,” Heather said. “Our schedules suck. Meet you at lunch?”

“Yep. Same place. Same time.” We hugged and went our separate ways. First period was math.

Heather and I normally had homeroom together, but on the first day of every term, the principal did her welcoming back speech, so classes started immediately.

I hated math.

After entering the classroom, I took a seat at the front, where I always sat. I did this so I could get the teacher, Mr. Brick’s help.

Math was stupid. There were too many rules and formulas for it to make sense. I thought it was put on this earth to test those in the most stupid of ways, so, I hated it.

I grabbed a pencil out of my bag before putting it on the floor, keeping my feet wrapped around it.

People began to fill the classroom. Whispers ran rife.

I heard a little of what was said.

“I heard they’re going to present it in class.”

“No, I think it will be at lunch.”

“I wish I was the one getting the rose.”

Ah, the selection. The most important part of the senior year. The way people knew which girl was selected to belong to the Saintly Devils, a single deep red rose was presented to her. All the thorns removed so she didn’t bleed.