“So the contest is a beauty pageant?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. Absolutely not. 

“No. The BL is only one of the deciding factors. There’s also a personality test, to see how well you would rule the Republic of Therncolaos.” Oh yeah. That’s the name of the country we’re part of. I almost forgot about it, because we’re all marooned on this island. 

“And what’s this CW percentage?” I ask, holding up the paper. 

“Chance of Winning,” Jackson explains. “You got 36%. You could help lift the island out of the darkness and make it better for everyone. I know you want that.” 

“Me, as governor?” I ask. Jackson nods. Flint glances at me, then back down at his hands. Will I even get to see him if I live on the mainland? And see Ember? They’re my closest friends. 

“Of course, they won’t let me put an Iron in the running,” He says, resting his head on his hand. “So I’ll have to elevate your family to Golds.” Mom’s jaw drops. 

“Golds,” She mutters, her eyes wide. 

“ I’m sorry I can’t get anything higher for you. It’s simply not legal,” Jackson says. 

“Golds,” Her eyes fill with tears. 

“Thank you, sir,” Dad says, as Mom stands up and walks around the kitchen, crying tears of joy. Casey grins at me. 

“I can go to school for a few more years,” She says, her eyes welling up too. “You have to do it, Olive,” She says. Jackson looks at me expectantly. I squeeze Casey’s hand, and nod. He smiles. 

“You won’t regret it,” He says. Flint stands up and walks over to the living room, too quickly for him to be happy. I get to my feet and follow him, standing next to him, looking out the front window at the dim street. 

“How do you feel about this?” I ask, and he takes my hand, still not looking at me. 

“It’s a great opportunity, and your entire family will be happy,” He lists, rubbing my burns. “It’s just…” He sighs and trails off. 

“What?” I ask. Flint squeezes my hand. 

“You’ll live in a Gold neighborhood,” He says. “I won’t get to walk you home anymore.” He says quietly. I walk closer, and hug him, closing my eyes. Flint puts his arm around my waist and pulls me closer, his breathing uneven. He pulls away for a second, and kisses me gently. I hear Casey whistle, and we’re brought back down to Earth. 

“I should probably go home and help Mom,” He says, and looks over at my family. “Um, do you want to sneak out and stay in my room again tonight?” He asks, his hand on my waist. Jackson is talking to Casey. 

“Why?” I ask. My house is just fine. Flint tilts his head. 

“Well, we’re dating, and I really like cuddling you,” He says, chuckling. I freeze, my brows furrowed. 

“We’re dating?” I ask, in a hushed tone. He laughs. 

“Yeah, you’re my girlfriend,” He says, smiling. I blink, and look over at the table. Casey wiggles her eyebrows at me. Oh. 

“Um, we’ll talk about this later,” I mumble. “I’ll sneak out, we can meet in your backyard.” He nods, looking slightly concerned. I walk over to the table. 

“I’ll send someone to your house tomorrow to oversee relocation to your new Gold house,” Jackson says, standing up and grabbing his coat. He shakes my parents’ hands, and leaves with a smile. As soon as he leaves, Mom orders Casey and me to get ready for bed. 

“You have a big day tomorrow, and I don’t want you tired to miss a second of it,” She says, tucking Casey in and walking out. 

“Please make this not just a dream,” Casey says, looking out the window at the stars. I look out, and also wish upon a star for the same thing. Once Casey is asleep, I climb out the window and run. Flint is pacing in his backyard. 

“So, when did we agree that we were dating?” I ask. He furrows his brows. “Okay, wrong question. Um, we’re just friends. That’s all I ever see you as,” I explain. His eyes widen. 

“Olive, I’ve been kissing you every day since you were Casey’s age. We hold hands everywhere. Last night, you slept in my bed. How is any of that just friends?” He asks. 

“I just assumed you’re a really touchy person, that’s how you interact with people.” I shrug. 

“Do you see me do any of that with Ember, my best friend?” Flint asks. I pause. She’s his best friend. “Do you even know anything about dating?” He asks. “Where did you get the idea that kissing isn’t romantic?” 

“Well, I…my parents aren’t in love. I don’t know what romantic looks like,” I mutter. “And you can’t get mad at me for not knowing anything about this. My dad had his accident so I dropped out of school at thirteen to work. I haven’t spent time with anyone but you and Ember since I was young.” Flint sighs, and takes my hand. 

“Let’s just go inside, Olive, we can finish talking in the morning,” He says, yawning. 

“No. Now that I know how you see us, I’m not going to get into bed with you. I don’t need more problems that could result from that,” I argue. 

“Oh, so your parents gave you the sex talk, but not the dating talk?” He asks. I shrug. 

“They wouldn’t know about healthy relationships enough to teach me,” I mutter. “I’m going home. You’re just my friend, and if you really want me to like you in a different way, you’ve got to work. You can’t just take advantage of me anymore.” 

I walk out of the backyard, jerking my scarred wrist away from him. He- he never even saw me as a best friend. He just wants to date me. I fold my arms, and lock my window as soon as I get home, drawing the curtains. 

“Olive!” Casey screams, shaking me out of bed. “Olive, it wasn’t a dream!” She yells, tears of happiness in her eyes. I sit up. “Mom says to gather things we want to keep, so the men can pack them.” 

I sit up, and look around the room. The sun shines through the window, brighter than usual. I stretch, and climb down from my bed, and see a large box that sits in the middle of the room. 

Casey pulls things, mementoes, off of our shelves, and puts them in the box. I look on the shelf for anything I own. The only thing is my empty glass jar, where I used to keep Flint’s necklaces. I pause, remembering last night, and put the jar away. 

I put the empty jar into the box, and look through my clothing piles for anything I might want to keep, though Iron clothing is not the kind of thing one holds onto. I lift up a gray shirt, and something falls out of it. I pick up the necklace from Flint, and shove it into my pocket to give back to him. 

Once Casey has everything, I close the box and help her carry it out of the bedroom, leaving my ratty clothing in there. A blonde woman looks up from Mom’s teacups at us, and hugs us randomly. 

“Mom, your hair,” I say, looking at her. She used to have red hair like the Coppers she was raised as, but now her hair is the color of honey. 

“We have to change it to blend in with the other Golds,” Mom says, then pushes Casey and I out the door. “The hairstylist will work with you,” She says. 

We close the door behind us, and look around. The street is filled with vans, and all sorts of big vehicles. A Copper woman with her red hair short and spiky around her head grabs our hands, and pulls us into the back of one of the vans. It has been made into a salon, something I pass every day on the way to work. I never thought I’d be in one. 

Two other Copper hairstylists are in there, a male and female. The male takes Casey to a chair in front of a mirror, and the woman with the spiky hair sits me down in the chair closest to the door. She combs my hair out, making an angry face when she finds yet another knot. 

“Sorry,” I say, as she complains under her breath at the state of my hair. Once it’s all combed out, she sighs. 

“You’re a Gold now, and you need to keep your hair long, and well-maintained.” I nod. She wets my hair, and cleans it, then rinses it off. “Now I’m going to bleach your hair,” She says. “Hold still.” 

I lean back, and she takes a bottle of white liquid, and pours it in my hair. It smells like it kills anything it touches. I wrinkle my nose, as she rubs it through my hair, then wraps my hair up in aluminum foil to let the bleach sit. 

I look over at Casey, who is annoying her hairstylist with endless questions. She’s much too curious to have to quit school for work. Her being a Gold is a good thing. 

“What’s that?” She asks, her hair wrapped up with bleach like mine. The hairstylist sighs, and puts the can into her hand. 

“It’s hairspray,” He says. 

“What does it do?” She asks, reading the label. 

“It holds a hairstyle in place,” He says, checking under the foil.

“And what’s your name?” She asks. The hairstylist stares at her for a second. 

“Aaron,” He answers. Casey’s legs swing, because the tall chair doesn’t let them reach the ground. 

“I’m Casey,” She says. Aaron rolls his eyes at my hairstylist, who smirks, chuckling. 

“Can I have the less annoying one, Nicki?” He asks. Nicki sighs. 

“Fine,” She says, walking over to Casey. Aaron pulls my hair out of the towel after half an hour, then has me lean back for washing, and lets it fall onto my shoulders. I gasp. 

My hair is completely blonde. It looks so abnormal, since I’m used to a neutral gray. I reach up to feel it, to see if it’s real, but Aaron slaps my hand away and pulls out a hair dryer. I know it’s a hair dryer because Casey asked a while ago and I was eavesdropping. Listening to other people’s conversations is very useful. 

As Aaron dries my hair, I watch every glimpse of the person I used to be slipping away. Where’s the girl who flipped out and yelled at her Supervisor once a week? Where’s the girl who gave up school early because her father got hurt in a work accident? 

“Scared of the change?” Aaron asks, over the loud noise of the hair dryer. I nod, my eyes filled with tears. 

“I think I’m a different person,” I whisper. Aaron laughs. 

“Oh, this is just the tip of the iceberg, girl,” He says, chuckling. “You’ll change so much, your best friends won’t even recognize you.” Now I start crying fully.