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The Marigolds

Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest pageant girl of them all?

By Kay BurwellPublished 4 years ago โ€ข Updated 4 years ago โ€ข 7 min read
The Marigolds
Photo by Ashton Mullins on Unsplash

Trust yourself, and only yourself.

That's what you learn from being a born and bred pageant girl. Everybody's just looking for somebody vulnerable to ally with. But as soon as you have no use any more, the knife appears. In your back.

I learned that the hard way.

"No, Flavia. You can't compete in the pageant this year. You can't miss Mazarine's wedding. Think of how sad she would be!" Mother says.

I know exactly how sad and dramatic she would be. And I don't care. It's not like she would come to my wedding anyway. Not that I plan on having one. I'd rather stay single my whole life and not have to worry about a significant other or a child.

My little sister Violet tips her bowl of oatmeal back chug-style, spilling the Quaker Oat peaches and cream all over her lap.

Yep, definitely no children.

Plus, I've been preparing for tomorrow for the whole year. I can't just give up on the Queen of the Marigolds contest! I would kill to get that golden crown fashioned after the pretty yellow flowers, even if it's fake. It would look great in my black hair.

"C'mon mom! I can stay here with Leith! I'll take Mazarine somewhere grand and buy her something, too."

"I already said no, Via." She responds with a cold voice. "There's always next year; you won't get to see your sister's wedding ever again." She turns around to take bread out of the toaster.

I glare at her back, taking out my anger. But she knows me too well.

"Oh don't look at me with those piercing eyes Via. Like I just said, there's always next year."

There's no next year. My best friend Leith invited me to go to Paris with her family next summer, and I'm not missing that for the world. Plus, I'll be getting ready for college. I don't have the time.

So it has to be this year. I'm finally old enough, and this is the only time I'll be able to do it. I'm not giving up my only opportunity for my narcissistic sister's wedding to her cocky fiance. Two peas in a pod.

So while my parents are at work and my sister is at daycare, I concoct a plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Was there an easier that we could've done this?"

"Nope" I grunt as I climb out of Leith's trunk. It wasn't easy sneaking here, but it was surprisingly easy to tell my mom I was going into the car when we were about to leave and actually throw my sleeping bag stuffed with pillows in the backseat. Mom'll be convinced I'm sleeping off my anger until maybe 4 hours into the drive to Louisiana. But by then, it'll be too late for them to turn back.

As for how I got into Leith's trunk? Well, we were planning on meeting at the local Starbucks (me on bike, Leith in her car), and we did. But guess who decided to make a quick stop before hitting the road? My parents. We were stowing my bike in the trunk for the weekend, but when the drove by without a moments notice, I had to leap in. They continued to chat for a total of seven minutes before my parents drove off, quick and in a hurry. But I was squished in her trunk... for seven minutes.

Pretty unpleasant, seeing as Leith's trunk smells like hot cheetos and oddly, the color green.

"You really need to clean your trunk." I say to Leith as I hop into the front seat.

"Nevermind that, you and I have to get to the convention center!" Leith replies.

She's competing as well, and we made a pact to not hate each other no matter what happens. We also made a pact to hate the person that wins on the low chance it isn't one of us.

We race to the convention center, needing to get ready for what we've worked forever for.

Once there, we go through the back door, like we were told to. Guess who we run into? Yohana. The exotic girl everybody loves. Nobody can tell where she's from. She won't tell where she's from. But everybody wants to be her friend. And Mazarine succeeded before she left for college and miraculously got a rich and obnoxious boyfriend. Lucky her. Which is exactly how Yohana knows Mazarine is getting married today.

Her eyes widen as she sees me. "Aren't you supposed to be going to Louisiana right now?"

I swallow. "....Yes. But I couldn't miss this for the world! You understand that don't you? Even if you don't, tell my parents and I'll make sure you're never able to show your face in daylight again!"

Yohana raises her eyebrows, shocked. Then she starts chuckling. "It's ok, I understand. I like your spunk. But that doesn't mean I won't beat you."

I'm surprised at her reaction. We've never got along. But in the end, I smirk. "You can try." I waltz by her to Leith, who is carrying all of our dresses and taking them to a room.

"Ready?" She says.

"Ready."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They just started calling names to come out on stage.

We just got our order a while ago, and I'm as nervous as nervous can be. Plus I have to go after Yohana, who's prettier than me, and who's right after the next girl who has to go onstage.

I have, like, ten minutes before I have to go on, and I'm already sweating off my mascara.

I pass my predecessor as I'm looking for water that can hydrate me and hopefully calm my nerves.

"May the best pageant girl win." She grins and twirls. "And I'm pretty sure that it's gonna be me."

I assess her look. "You might want to put on some earrings." Why did I do that? Am I actually helping the competition?

My words are too late to take back. Yohana's hands fly up to her ears, and she cocks a brow. "Wow. Thanks Via." She walks away, in search of the jewelry.

I walk on, and finally find a cooler that thankfully has water. Leith is by it too. She's three people after me, so she has to wait a while.

"May the best pageant girl win." I repeat what Yohana said.

She smiles slowly before copying my words. "May the best pageant girl win."

Her lucky self scored a dress with pockets, and she slips her phone out.

"I gotta make a call real quick." She mumbles and shuffles past me.

A name is called, and I realize it's the person before Yohana. No doubt the tropical girl is right by the stage watching and waiting.

To my surprise, I find my self walking to wish her luck.

Also to my surprise, I find no one there.

"Yohana?" I call a couple times. No answer. I search around, and all I see are the remaining girls, looking as anxious as I am.

I go deeper backstage, thinking maybe she had to throw up and didn't want anybody to see her, but all I see is a few cobwebs in the dark and a creepy closed closet with a banging noise and what sounds like whimpers coming from inside.

It's probably just an air conditioner, I tell myself.

But what if-

"Flavia Nisana Rossi." A voice calls from behind me. But no it can't be. My mom is three hours into her ride to Louisiana. She can't be here. I turn around, hoping somebody is really good at impressions.

There is nobody but my mom. With Leith beside her.

That little-

"I should've known you would do something like this, and Leith was nice enough to not want you to miss your sister's wedding. You might hate her now, but you'll thank her later." She sighs at my hurt face. "Alright. Say your goodbyes. You have five minutes. With any luck we'll get here before 1:00." My mother strides away, leaving Leith and standing across each other, like an old western times movie.

She smirks. "You know you're better than me. We both know that. That's why I couldn't have you ruining my chances. But you have next year, since I'm assuming you won't want to go to Paris with us." She knows what she's doing. She knows I wanted this now, that I needed this now. I needed to become the youngest Rossi girl to win a pageant, because then I'll be congratulated I won't seen as mediocre and below the rest of my cousins. But she ruined that, and I'll never forgive her for it.

"Where's Yohana?" I ask, my throat dry.

"In that closet right there." Leith points behind me. "She's too lovable, I couldn't have her ruining my chances either. I'll let her out after the introductions. She'll be disqualified. " She waves a hand like this is nothing.

She not only did this to me, she also did it to an innocent girl. I knew my friend was a snake, but I never knew she had this much venom. I want to slap her. I want to sic a rabid dog on her. I want to charge at her like the raging bulls our state is known for.

But I do nothing. Instead I walk with my head held high. But as I march past her, she pulls my arm and whispers into my ear, "May the best pageant girl win."

I broke our pact. I will always hate her for this.

Adventure

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