Free The Vault of Dreamers by Caragh M. O'brien Page B

have chocolate cake. Check out that frosting.” She passed me a piece
     and started in on her own. “I’m starving,” she said. “Who knew anxiety could make
     me so hungry?”
    “You weren’t seriously worried for yourself,” I said.
    “Are you kidding? I’ve been a mess,” she said. “Plus of course I just started my period.
     Whoops! Too much info. Man, this is good.”
    Following her cue, I tried a forkful of cake, and the sweetness dissolved in my mouth.
     It was insanely good, a taste of pure happiness, with a thin, gooey line of bittersweet
     frosting between the spongy layers of cake.
    “You should have seen the losers,” Janice said. “Number fifty-one was destroyed. It
     was awful. Dean Berg’s saying goodbye to them.”
    “Where’s Burnham?” I asked.
    “I don’t know.” Janice pulled out her phone. “It’s my mom,” she said, looping her
     blond hair to one side. “Excuse me.” She snagged another piece of cake as she shifted
     away to talk.
    I scanned the crowd and absently rubbed my arms with the towel I’d kept. Henrik and
     Paige stood talking in the far corner, but I couldn’t find Burnham. I wanted to celebrate
     with him, especially since he’d helped me at lunchtime, but instead I felt a letdown.
     I didn’t see any of the students I’d shot for my footage, either. In terms of passing
     the cuts, it hadn’t made a difference for any of them, but I had to think it had helped
     me. That hadn’t been my intention when I’d started out, not consciously, so it shouldn’t
     have made me uneasy. But now it did. Ellen wasn’t going to be easy to forget.
    “My parents say congratulations,” Janice said, coming back over. “Have you talked
     to yours yet?”
    “No,” I said. I didn’t have a phone, but there were a couple of landline phones in
     the student union next door.
    “Here. Use this,” Janice said, handing me her phone.
    “Really?”
    “Go ahead,” she said. She was still smiling happily, and another girl came up to give
     her a hug.
    I took her phone and dialed my home number. Turning away to face the rainy windows,
     I waited while it rang.
    “Ma?” I said.
    “Rosie! We’re so excited!” my mom said. Her voice came over the sound of partying
     in the background. “You made it! We’ve got the McLellens and all the neighbors here.
     We’re so proud of you!”
    I felt a mix of pride and loneliness. “I’m happy, too. Is Dubbs there?”
    “Who was that boy? Are you seeing him?” Ma asked.
    I glanced down at my wet boots and stuck a finger in my other ear.
    “Maybe. I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t really talk now. The cameras, you know.”
    “Oh, yes!” she said. “Oh! There you are on the TV right now, in that towel, talking
     on the phone. Isn’t that amazing? Can you wave?”
    I waved.
    She squealed.
    “Ma, I’ve got to go,” I said. “Give my love to Dubbs, okay?”
    From the background, my stepfather yelled something that was greeted by shouts of
     laughter.
    “We’re so excited for you, Rosie,” Ma said. “Be a good girl, okay? Wait, your father
     wants to talk to you.”
    A clicking and mumbling ensued. “Rosie!” my stepfather called into the phone.
    “Hi, Larry,” I said.
    “You’re a big star now, huh kid? What happens next?”
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “How do you win? When’s the next elimination? Next week?”
    How he could possibly not know this was unbelievable to me. It was as if he’d paid
     zero attention to what I’d been doing, all that time I’d talked about the show and
     prepared and applied.
    “There are no more eliminations,” I said. “These were the fifty cuts, just now, tonight.
     That’s it. Now we stay on for the rest of the school year.”
    “But then, how do you win? How do you get the big bucks?” he asked.
    “It’s not about winning,” I said. “It’s about getting an education.”
    “Don’t pull that,” he said. “You said there was money.”
    He’d paid