#date one

The note arrived when I got to my room one afternoon. My three maids, who I adored, had set it down on my perfectly made bed.

My heart pounded a little, excited to finally get a chance to see the Prince again. One short conversation was really not enough, and I couldn’t wait to get another chance.

I peeled open the envelope and pulled out the slip of paper. My maids pretended like they weren’t watching, but they clearly were. The fact that they were avoiding me only confirmed that they likely already knew what I was going to be doing.

The note was neat and folded carefully. It gave simple instructions to be out in front of the palace at 7 p.m. for a car to take me wherever it was that we would be going. I turned around suddenly, searching the room for all three of my maids with a playful smile.

“You guys know what I’m doing tomorrow, don’t you?” 

All three girls turned with wide smiles, looking at one another before coming to a silent agreement.

“Sorry, Indie,” the eldest one said as she cleaned a perfectly clean linen on the wall. “We can’t say anything.”

I scrunched my nose. I desperately wanted to know what I would be doing with the Prince tomorrow, but I supposed it would be better as a surprise. And, it would keep my maids out of trouble if I didn’t coax it out of them.

“Fine,” I groaned dramatically, but I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. 

I flopped back onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling. 

---

The next day, my maids started getting me ready for my date exceptionally early. 

I knew, secretly, that they must be as excited as I was, so I didn’t actually mind. They left my hair in its natural waves, only spraying a little product in them to keep it neat. After that, they put on some light makeup and spritzed perfume on my neck.

They dressed me in jeans and a cute but casual shirt, which only made me more curious about what lay ahead for the night. Clearly, it wasn’t a fancy date, so that ruled out anything like that. But, there were still a multitude of options.

I made my way out to the front of the palace and got into the car that was waiting for me there. The driver didn’t say much except for a polite greeting, which I reciprocated. Other than that, the trip was silent, and I spent my time gazing at the window at the city that I sometimes called my home.

The city was the same as it always had been– bright and active, despite the setting sun. I was grateful for the palm trees, and I counted them as we drove. They reminded me of Clermont. It was like a little bit of my home province was always with me.

We got to the destination ten minutes early, which was perfectly fine for me as I preferred being early. A smile crossed my face as we pulled into the parking lot and I saw the lights from the carnival that was glittering in front of me.

I supposed now I knew what we were doing tonight, and I was suddenly very happy. How could I not be? I was about to go on a carnival date! And as ridiculously cheesy that was, I couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of adventure rise through me. I couldn’t wait for Arin to get here.

Admittedly, I had only had one conversation with Arin so far. There were mumblings around the palace from the other girls and the maids about what he was like, and overall, there were some pretty confusing descriptions. I, for one, didn’t want to focus on that. I just wanted to get to know him for myself, that’s all.

About five minutes into waiting in the car, I started to get antsy. I wanted to get out and wait in the fresh air. I excused myself from the car, and my driver let me go, promising me that he would wait until the Prince came to leave.

I made my way over to a short concrete wall and sat up on top of the ledge, letting my feet dangle toward the ground. The carnival was behind me, but when I looked to my left I could see the crashing waves hitting the beach. Compared to the carnival, it was so peaceful and I found myself calming down as I listened to them crash against the sand.

A little bit later, I checked my watch that my maids had slipped on me before I left. It was delicate and shiny and read the time 7:02. Arin was a couple minutes late, but I didn’t find that too concerning. It had been quite a drive from the palace and who knows what he was doing before this.

Finally, a few minutes later, Arin pulled up in his car, and my heart started beating fast. It was finally a chance to get to know him, and I was ready–even more so that it was at a carnival of all places. 

Arin got out of his car and walked around. He was wearing casual clothes, so much so that if I didn’t know any better, I could just pretend that Arin wasn’t the crowned Prince of all of Illea. He spotted me jumping off the ledge and took a deep breath, pulling at the collar of his shirt before walking over to me.

“Good evening, Lady Indiana.”

I smiled in greeting, deciding to be friendly, feeling confidence surge through me.

“Hello, Arin!” I glanced at the carnival behind me and back at him with a playful smile. “I think I figured out what we are doing tonight.”

He looked a little taken back by my enthusiasm, which I thought was a little funny, considering all I said was ‘hello.’ But, still, he tried to give me a smile and nodded. 

“You seem very excited about it.”

I laughed a little. “Aren't I supposed to be? Besides, I don't think I've ever been to a carnival. I shot a carnival scene once for a movie, but I've never been to just go.” 

That was true. The only time I had ever been to anything like this, I was a camera operator for some movie years ago. I was so busy, I didn’t even get to appreciate it.

I grinned at Arin, curious. “Are you excited?”

His answer was confirmed as “no” when he took a breath and said, “Well, I’m here.” He looked over to the carnival and nodded toward it.

Despite the clear indifference of Arin toward this date, I couldn’t help but find it amusing. It typically took a lot to make me give up on my naturally playful state, so as much as Arin maybe wanted me to, I wouldn’t falter for a while.

I raised my eyebrows at his response, an amused smile at my lips. “That's good. It'd be a pretty awkward date if you didn't show up.”

“Oh well... I don't really have a choice.” He swallowed and then started walking. His bodyguard, Kevin, trailed us from behind.

I nodded, though I’m sure my face was nothing but unconvinced and still amused. In fact, I found it kind of funny. I mean, wasn’t this whole Selection his choice? Wasn’t he the one who wanted one in the first place?

“Wow, you know how to make a girl swoon,” I sarcastically remarked, still grinning and unaffected by his indifference. 

“So I've been told.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked over at me for a moment.

I looked back, trying to read him. I said it when I first met him: it was difficult to understand what was going through his head. But it didn’t deter me. I took a deep breath, giving a small smile.

“So, you really didn't 'have any choice over this date'? What, are carnivals not your thing?” I asked, squinting playfully.

“They're fine enough I guess.” He shrugged. “I don't know what you want me to say…”

It was a little awkward, but it wasn’t a huge deal. He really didn’t need to feel like he had to say something. So, I just shrugged casually myself.

“You don't have to say anything.”

I realized that maybe I came off too strong in the beginning. I just assumed it would be better to be enthusiastic, but Arin was definitely more put off by all of this. Maybe I was reading it all wrong? I looked away for a second before looking back at him.

“Sorry if I'm not... reading this well,” I said, smiling a little. “I'm a little nervous.”

Arin shrugged, for, like, the third time in a row, and said, “It's fine.” 

We started to near all the different carnival booths. The place was busy, but it wasn’t too crowded. The bright lights of the carnival games made the place feel vivacious and a sweet smell lofted through the air. 

“So, you any good at carnival games?” I asked with a chuckle as he eyed the different booths.

“No one is good at carnival games. They're designed for you to lose,” he answered with a simple shrug. 

Alright, so that was a no on games then, I thought. I wondered if there would be anything he actually wanted to do.

“Okay, yeah, probably most of them…,” I agreed and then looked around. My eyes lit up when I saw a bumper cars arena. “What about those? Want to ride them?”

“Sure, why not.” He started to trudge his way over, which didn’t give the impression he was excited.

But, still, I let out a little, “Yay!” and I followed him over to the line. I was secretly super excited, but I tried to stay cool. I had never ridden bumper cars before, but they always looked like fun, and I couldn’t help but smile. “This is like... out of a movie.”

Arin… well, I was pretty sure he thought I was crazy. He glanced around, unimpressed, and then in a low voice said, “I think we watch different movies…”

I wanted to laugh because, hadn’t he watched any movie ever?! I mean sure, not every movie had a carnival scene, but a lot of them did. The Notebook, for one… absolutely iconic. But, still, most people knew cliches even without having seen the movie.

“Oh, come on,” I said playfully. “Every good carnival scene has a montage of bumper cars, cotton candy, and like... clowns or something.” I chuckled, thinking about it. “Although, clowns are kind of creepy... so maybe we should avoid those.”

Arin just frowned a little. “I'm not really into those movies, sorry. I like more educational films.”

At that moment, I think I suddenly started to understand Arin a little more. Definitely not completely, (definitely less than a little), but he had a way of apologizing for things that didn’t need to be apologized for. It was as if he felt like my expectations were being let down or something? What he didn’t realize, is that I was being myself. I had told the other girls to be themselves. Now, he just needed to be himself.

And then maybe this wouldn’t be so forced and awkward.

I shrugged casually, trying to make it obvious that he didn’t need to apologize for having a different taste in movies.

“No worries. Everyone has their preferences. What type of educational films do you like?”

“Documentaries,” he answered, glancing down at me, but he looked away.

Documentaries. Such a simple, but vague answer. It could mean a multitude of things. And I should’ve asked him more about that, but instead, I had to be an idiot and ruin everything.

You see, the documentary that Emily had pitched to me back a few weeks ago was still on my mind. I had been pretty much against it until my conversation with Wylan. He had acted like it was a good idea, and somehow inspired me to start considering it again.

And I was considering it. But, things had been monstrously busy with lessons and interviews and everything in between lately. I started to head back to the mindspace of where I was at before I talked to Wylan– a documentary just wasn’t feasible right now.

But, still, I wanted to know Arin’s opinion. And, I wanted to know if he would think it would be a good idea at all.

So I made the mistake of mentioning it to him.

I smiled kindly at him.

“I like documentaries,” I commented and tilted my head at him. As casually as possible, with a little chuckle, I added, “You know, I have a couple people wanting me to do a documentary on the Selection.”

I saw his jaw tighten at the suggestion, and my grin quickly faded as he said, “Of course they do.”

His body was stiff and tense, and I felt immediately horrible. He looked angry. And as much confidence I had worked building up in my life, I felt it begin crumbling down.

Sometimes that happens. It takes a lot to deter me when someone is indifferent, but anger is a different story. I can be feeling great, and then one thing goes wrong, and I immediately feel like an idiot. Logically, I knew I wasn’t. There were people who thought it was a good idea. Heck, even his best friend thought it might not be a bad idea. 

But, that didn’t stop me from suddenly feeling like trash. The tension of this date had been building up. I was so enthusiastic, and he couldn’t care less. And I supposed that was why all of my confidence got sucked away.

“Bad idea?” I grimaced.

“At the end of the day everyone is free to do what they like. They always do anyway.”

I looked away. This whole thing was outrageously confusing. I felt extreme awkwardness flooding my bones, and I didn’t even know how it happened. I rarely got upset in front of people. I usually avoided it, constantly putting up a playful front, but there was no avoiding this. I just felt awful.

“I'm sorry. I won't do it if it's that upsetting. I wasn't even considering it at first. I'm... not even a documentary filmmaker anyway.”

Another thing I did when I felt unconfident: I doubted my abilities.

He muttered, “I don't know why anyone would consider it. It's not entertainment.”

And just like that, a lightbulb went off in my head. My eyes widened and softened, as I suddenly understood what was going on. I felt like an idiot, once again, for not realizing sooner.

My voice was soft as I said, “I guess that's actually really fair. I... didn't mean to come off that way. It was actually pitched as an introspective look of the lower castes through the lens of the Selected in order to grab interest. But…” I stopped and thought for a moment. “I don't know. I can see how it would come across as making a spectacle of the event that decides your future. I wasn't even considering it at first because I'm not here to be a filmmaker. I hope you know that, Arin.”

Of course Arin would be upset. A documentary about the Selection would do fantastically well. People everywhere would watch it. And I would get credit for it. But, the Selection, as much as people tried to make it be, wasn’t an entertainment show. It was life.

It was very real for Arin, whether he chose this or not. At the end of all of this, he would be married. His future would be locked in place. There would be no going back, and however exciting that was, it was also terrifying. I can see why he would be wary of someone trying to profit off of the stardom.

But, I wanted it to be clear: that’s not what I wanted. And I hoped that he could hear the genuine sound in my voice.

He crossed his arms and looked over at the bumper cars, still tense. “Well, I’m glad to see you have a conscience.”

I took a deep breath. “I do. Sorry that your first look at it had to happen like that.”

Unconsciously, we had moved to the front of line. The next bunch of bumper cars we definitely would be on.

Arin didn’t say anything. He just took a deep breath and looked down, silently studying me. The stare made me feel intimidated, and I felt like shrinking back, but mostly, it made me feel embarrassed. This was so embarrassing.

I had to try to fix it. 

“I'm sorry, but... can we start over? I... I really didn't mean for you to hate this date. I just wanted to have fun and get to know you.” It was shaky, my confidence still lost somewhere earlier in the conversation. But, still, I smiled and pointed to the bumper cars, trying to lighten the mood. “Look, we're next.”

Surprisingly, he said, “Sure.” So, a little confidence grew back within me. But, Arin frowned, eyes going to the bumper cars. “Let's go.”

We walked into the bumper car arena, and I sat in a car near the entrance. There was a car right next to mine, but instead of sitting in it, Arin went to one that was further away. I frowned for a second, but brushed it off. Arin was clearly on edge about this whole Selection process, and I decided to go easy on him, if he would let me. At least he agreed to start over.

I watched as Arin buckled his seat belt. He pulled it tight, but didn’t look over to me. I fastened my own belt, and started to get excited again. 

The bumper cars started up, and I had to stop myself from squealing. Instead, I focused my energy on getting caught up to Arin. He was driving on the edge of the rink, purposely avoiding all of the other cars, which I found kind of funny, considering that it was “bumper cars.”

I almost got close to him, but I suddenly got surrounded and jammed into a bunch of other bumper cars that had kids that found joy from mercilessly wrecking into people. But, it was too funny, so I had to laugh.

Finally, I managed to catch up to him, and I didn’t hesitate to bump straight into his car. He lurched back as it happened, and he immediately threw me an annoyed look.

“You know the whole point of the game is to hit the other cars right?” I shouted to him with a laugh.

“I know what the point of the game is.”

I just laughed despite him being annoyed, like the bumper cars had managed to fully restore my confidence. I drove next to him, lightly tapping his car with mine once before saying, “I don’t think I’ve seen you hit one car.”

He shrugged and gave me a confused look. “So? I don’t need to.”

Fair enough. 

I shrugged, and then said casually, “Okay.”

The bumper cars came to a stop, and Arin and I unbuckled our seatbelts, stood up, and exited the arena.

When we got outside, Arin’s eyes briefly went to the ferris wheel before he looked back at me. I followed his gaze, but I didn’t mention it.

“Well, that was…,” he trails off.

“...Not much bumping for bumper cars?” I finished with a playful smile. 

“Not much I guess, but you can go again if you like. Sorry if I ruined it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around at the various stands as we walked.

There it was again. The apologizing for no reason. Didn’t he realize I could care less about the carnival? I just wanted to get to know him.

“What? No! It’s okay. You don’t have to like bumper cars,” I reassured with a smile. “They were fun, but we can do something else now if you want.”

“Thank you,” he said and looked at me sort of awkwardly. “We can do whatever you want to do.”

I wished I knew what was going on in his head. I didn’t mind making decisions or giving suggestions about what to do. I was used to that, but I was surprised that he was more reserved about it. After all, he was making decisions for Illea everyday. Maybe he was just trying to make me feel comfortable-- you know, like… after he made me uncomfortable.

But, whatever, I understood. This situation was weird.

“Want to just walk around? We can talk, get to know one another. If we see something along the way we want to do we can stop,” I suggested.

“Alright,” he agreed and motioned for me to lead. “Lead the way.”

I smiled and started walking. Unfortunately, my brain froze on the conversation front so I backtracked to the bumper cars. Now that I had properly thought about it, he was so tense on the ride. Maybe there was more to that story.

“So, uh, do you not like rides?” 

“Not particularly,” he said and hesitated. “Do you... like rides, I mean?”

I nodded, feeling a little better now that he was attributing to the conversation. I could tell he was at least trying now.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m willing to try any of them I guess.” I thought for a moment, and asked him with another smile, “So, if you don’t like rides, what do you like to do at a carnival?”

“I haven’t been to one in a while, but I guess I just like to walk around and do the games... I just always lose.”

Part of me wondered if he even remembered the beginning of this date, where we talked about this very subject. Then again, it looked as if this night was being split in two: “the before” and “the after.” 

The “before” was before the bumper cars, when he was slightly scary and very indifferent. And the “after” was after the bumper cars because now at least, it seemed like he was making an attempt to not make this night worse.

Something was different now. He was being a little nicer and willing to participate, so I decided to roll with it.

I smiled at him. “Well, like you said earlier, they are designed for you to lose. Maybe we can try to win one tonight?”

He nodded and gave me a smile, which only made my smile bigger. Finally! I got him to smile!

“Sure.” He eyed the various stalls. “Where should we start?”

I felt confident again, and that was nice. I looked around at all of the different stalls. It needed to be one that was possible to win, but didn’t involve too much skill. A good game of chance, so that if we didn’t win, it wouldn’t hurt our ego too bad.

“Hmm... what about that one?” I pointed to the game where you throw ping pong balls over cups that are different colors. “That one is entirely chance. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Alright,” he said and walked toward the game. After staring at it distrustfully for a moment, he nodded. We paid for the game and the employee handed us three ping pong balls. “You first?”

“Sure.” I took one of the balls and tossed it at the cups. It doesn’t hit a winner. “Dang. Your turn.”

I picked up another ball and held it out to him with a smile.

He took the ball with a nod. He adjusted the way he's standing, spreading his feet, which was honestly kind of cute. I was going to feel bad if we didn’t win. He threw the ball.

I got excited when it nearly made it, but the ball bounced off the rim and into a losing cup.

“I told you they're designed for you to lose.”

“Oh! You were so close! Do it one more time!”

He reached for a ball but shook his head. “You're probably luckier than I am.” He held it out to me with a nervous smile.

I laughed and shook my head to tell him he was wrong, which he was, by the way. It was all chance, but I decided to not fight him on it and grabbed the ball from his hand. 

I playfully waved my hand in front of my face, pretending to be extremely focused and serious. I brought my arm back, making a dramatic pose, and tossed it. It skipped a few of the cups, landing in a winner. I jumped in excitement, but at the last second, the ball jumped out, just like Arin’s had done before. I turned to him with a sheepish smile.

“Okay, so, maybe they are designed for us to lose.” I can’t help but laugh.

He actually laughed at that, which made me happier. 

“Sometimes I'm actually right about things,” he said with a shrug. 

“Hmmm…” I squinted playfully. “I guess so.”

Arin and I started walking away from the booth.

“Where to next?” he said softly, looking down at the ground.

I look around, trying to think of something. “We could... grab a snack... there’s a house of mirrors... walk around some more... I’m fine with whatever. What do you think?”

I smiled at him again, and his eyes went to mine.

“Well, what's your favorite thing to do at carnivals?” 

There it was again. The “before” part of this day was now a distant memory. It didn’t seem like he remembered me saying I’ve never been to a carnival before.

I didn’t really care though. The “after” had actually been kind of nice so far.

My answer to his question was honestly probably the rides. But, I knew if I suggested it, he would feel pressured to do it, and I didn’t want him to do something he didn’t enjoy.

“I don’t know…” Just then, I thought of something, and my eyes lit up. “Do you like cotton candy?”

“Oh, um, sometimes. Would you like some?” His eyes went toward the part of the pier that stretched out into the water. “There's a little stand down that way.”

I grinned, but I felt like I was being kind of intense about cotton candy and needed to justify myself.

“Sure! I haven't had cotton candy in years!”

“I guess it's been a while for me too.” He started walking towards the shop, motioning for me to follow him, giving me, what appeared to be, a genuine smile.

I followed him happily.

“I just feel like it's hard to be unhappy when there's cotton candy in the picture.”

“Maybe you're onto something,” he said and glanced at the ground.

There was a small smile playing on his lips, making me think that he might be remembering something.

“Brings back good memories?” I asked with a kind smile.

“Some…,” he admits, blinking a few times when he looks over at me. “Does it for you?”

I thought back to me as a child, running through the streets of Lauderdale, searching for something to eat or somewhere to sleep for the night. I probably would have cried if I had tried cotton candy back then.

But, even then, before I was homeless, my parents were Sixes. There wasn’t much money for luxuries like sweets.

I shrugged with a small, thoughtful smile. “Honestly, not really. I only tried it for the first time a couple years ago.”

I looked at the ground, thinking for a moment about how screwed up it was that I was eighteen before I ever had something so simple, so common, as cotton candy. I looked back up to him. 

“Ah, well... at least you've found them now,” he said, and I nodded. We got up to the stand, and he pointed to the list of flavors. “Pick what you like.”

I looked over the list and pointed to one. “Hm... maybe just the classic blue?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Arin ordered the cotton candy and paid. 

“Thank you,” I said genuinely. 

He quietly nodded in response and then took the cotton candy from the employee and handed it to me. “Here you go.”

I took it with a smile, immediately pinching off a piece and eating it. Immediately, my mouth was absorbed with the sugary sweetness. It was delicious.

“Oh, yes. This is everything,” I said, laughing a little, and I held it out to Arin. “Want some?”

I was expecting him to take some, considering how he seemed like the idea of cotton candy was pleasant to him. But, instead, an odd, lost look crossed his face, and he shook his head. 

“No thanks, I'm fine.” He glanced around at the stalls and took a deep breath.

I nodded, but I couldn’t help but frown. I watched as he looked around, wondering what exactly was going through his head. 

“Are you okay?”

He looked back to me and gave me a smile. “Yeah, I'm fine. Are you doing okay?”

I gave him a kind smile and nodded, though I wasn’t sure I believed him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, this has been fun.”

His smile brightened, making me happy. 

“I’m glad. Things haven’t gone that smoothly recently, so I appreciate hearing that.”

I wondered what that meant, but I didn’t feel like it was right to pry.

“Of course! I'm sorry to hear that... but hopefully things continue to get better for you.”

I smiled and ate more of my cotton candy.

“I'm sure they will.” 

He eyed the cotton candy, smiling just a little. I pinched off another piece and put it in my mouth. I saw his stare on the cotton candy and smiled again, even though I’m sure my entire mouth was blue and I looked like an idiot.

I waved the cotton candy in front of him and, being careful not to push him, playfully said, “Are you sureee you don't want some?”

“Really I'm good. It's all yours.” He held up his hands. “I'm happy you like it.”

I silently hoped I didn’t look like a cotton candy crazy person.

“Alright.”

Arin and I walked around a little more after that, looking around at the different booths. I wasn’t going to lie, it wasn’t the perfect first date. But, considering how rough it had started, I didn’t think it ended too bad.

Arin was sensitive and, clearly, he had a lot of guarded feelings about The Selection and the people participating. We didn’t really learn too much about each other. But, at least, if anything, I had fun. I hoped he did too.