Chapter Three

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I woke up the next morning with a stifled yawn and my back soar. After entering in the oh so wonderful Selection, I headed straight to work while Dad took the boys back home. I stayed out till around dinnertime at 7 then headed home too. A bowl of leftover soup waited for me, it was one of the only things we could afford to make and we were grateful nonetheless. It was food, I think that was all that mattered to me and the boys.

With a giant groan and a sigh I hopped out of bed and ran my fingers through my hair, they honestly worked better than my crappy hairbrush. I pulled on another set of work clothes before grabbing the handle on my old, squeaky, door.

 I made my way out into the hallway and spotted Trae waiting outside the closed bathroom door. I walked over to him and sat beside him against the wall, we both had our knees pulled up to our chests and our heads against the flat surface.

"I think you're gonna win." He states.

 I glance over at my little brother in almost complete awe, he's never said anything hopeful to me before. Mostly little sarcastic remarks or funny jokes like brothers do, but the way he said this made it feel different. His eyes were closed, he wasn't looking at me, and he was just breathing softly as he waited to use the restroom.

"What makes you think I'll even be picked?" I question.

"For one, you're beautiful Syd, if the people who chose don't pick you off that then they're idiots. Two, you're likable, the people of Illea would love you instantly. You're a great person and if a family of Ones don't see that then it's not worth it, and you win anyways. It's a win-win situation Syd." Trae says. 

"Hmm, I didn't think about it like that." I reply. He still wasn't looking at me, I've never seen him so calm in my entire life. Max was kind of acting the same way yesterday too. What's going on with them? I feel like they care more about this dumb competition more than me. . .

Suddenly, the door opened and Trae's twin walked out with a wet towel in his hand and only a pair of denim jeans on. He got up and went straight in, shutting the door behind him and starting the water in the shower. Max lingered around probably trying to find the words to say so I just patted on the spot next to me on the hardwood floor. He sat exactly like Trae did but he kept his eyes open and watched me.

"You hear all that?" I ask, he nods. "Neither of you even know Prince Jackson, what makes you think he'll like me. Besides that I can be very likable."

"Just a feeling." Max shrugs. "But when you do write us about how the Palace is, don't talk about the food."

"Yeah, I promise." I laugh at his brotherly smile, but as we smile at each other my eyes avert to his bare right shoulder. Specifically to the scar that was clearly visible with his shirt off. I reached out instantly to touch it. "Max, what the hell happened?"

"I'm pretty sure it's a birth mark, don't worry about it too much. It's not like I'm running around somewhere in the woods with a bunch of crazy people." He quickly states. So fast and smooth that I almost believed him, almost. But it sounded too rehearsed. 

I don't know what, but something is happening to my brothers. They're lying to me. Keeping secrets. Getting hurt? I realize that I've been doing the same thing since Mikaylah was killed but. . . they're my little brothers. My responsibility. I should be watching them more closely, I will.

"I got a job a few blocks down into the Sixes territory at Mrs. Johnson's house, so I better get going. I'll catch ya later, okay?" Max talks as he stands up from the floor then walks down the hall and into his room without hearing my response. I furrow my eyebrows while staring at the two closed doors in the hallway, a sigh leaves my lips. 

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I shake any thoughts out of my head and stand up after a few seconds. My eyes glance over my shoulder at the wall I was leaning up against and stared at the photos of my family, the entire family. It was the only one that existed and the only one that ever would. My Mother, Dad, Mikaylah at the age of 5 and me at 4, the boys were barely 1 when the photo was taken. Beside that picture of us in the backyard was one of just the Twins at 12 playing soccer outside. Me and Mikaylah are sitting down in one staring at the pretty purple and blue flowers that grow in the front of our house. My hand touches that picture, my fingers grazing on my sisters 8 year old face, she was so small, too gentle. 

It's all my fault. Ev-everything that happened that night. . . it's my fault.

*

I looked up at the semi-tall, two story house with what looked like a fresh coat of baby blue paint and very nice grass with rose bushes up front. Instantly, I bit my lip already feeling nervous and out of place at this Two's house. My feet carried me up the little pavement leading to the door then I had to force myself to ring the doorbell. It took a while but someone did eventually answer the door. 

It was a boy. An extremely tall, brown haired, hazel eyed teenage boy, and he was staring at me like I was insane. His eyes were wide and his face was red. The boy was wearing a pair of khaki pants and a navy blue polo t-shirt, he was also holding a piece of paper and a pen in his left hand. 

I'd seen the paper before, not the exact form, but the stationary. It was from the Palace. He must be 18 then, which means that he has to sign up to be a soldier. I guess us girls could have it worse. At least we aren't forced to sign-up for anything.

"Who are you? Not to be rude, sorry, it's jus- I mean- like, uhhh. . . "

"I'm a Seven, is that what you mean?" I ask not feeling offended at all and I made sure not to come off as rude. But, I mean, I wouldn't expect a Two to understand how it is for a Seven, I can't even imagine how a One would react to someone like me.

"Yeah, " He sighs. "Sorry, I've just never met anyone lower than a Four so, uhh,  your appearance was kind of-"

"Different, yeah, I get that a lot. Not all of us can be high class and celebrities, Two." I use a nickname to tease him and he immediately reddens even more. "I'm here because someone called about needing a tree trimmed in their backyard. This is 4290 East Railroad Street, right?"

"You're gonna cut the tree?!" He sounded appalled or maybe stunned that me, a tiny 17 year old girl, was gonna use a chainsaw. I nodded and kept myself from laughing. 

"Yeah, okay. Well the tree's in the backyard, but you already knew that. Come on." He finally walks out of the door frame then shuts the front door behind him. I follow behind him as we walk around the side of the house and to the back. My eyes widen and I realize what the guy was thinking about, this tree is the biggest tree I've ever had to work with.

"My name's Jacob Turner by the way, not Two, Seven." He tells me before walking off leaving me with my mouth open at his sudden confident remark to my joke. 

"Two fits you." I whisper to myself then turn back to the tree. 

A sigh escapes my lips as I inspect it from the top down then I drop my bag onto the ground. I unzip it and take out my rope and cables, I place the chainsaw aside until I need it. This job is gonna take me all afternoon. . . if it doesn't kill me first.

I had taken off my long sleeve I had put on over my short sleeve white shirt before leaving the house, it was windy a few hours ago when I got here. That and it's a pretty long walk in my province from the Seven's to the Two's. The Two was definitely right about this tree though, it's tough and the branches are super thick. I've been working on it for at least 2 hours straight, almost 3 now that I think about it. 

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