We present an extract from You Could Be So Pretty, the new novel by 'Queen of YA Fiction' Holly Bourne.
In Belle and Joni's world there are two options for girls:
One, follow the rules of the Doctrine: be a Pretty, apply your Mask, win admiration and attention, work hard to be crowned at the Ceremony.
Be a Belle.
Or two, fight the rules: be an Objectionable, leave your face bare, be sneered at or ignored, work hard to avoid the disgust in their eyes and hope to one day escape.
Be a Joni.
But maybe there is a third option...
BELLE
I wake up how I wake every day – exhausted and hungry, with the ghost of my mother's scream vibrating around my head.
"Belle?" she calls up the stairs – happy and energised and not screaming on the bathmat. "Are we doing Body Prayer together or not?"
"Coming." I allow myself thirty more seconds to lay back and fully rid myself of my recurrent nightmare. I hate waking up. Sleep’s my only distraction from the gnawing in my stomach. I imagine a breakfast of scrambled egg, yellow and rich with melted butter, seeping into thick white bread. Then I chastise myself. I am so greedy, so disgusting. I should not desire such things.
"Belle? Come on. You need as much time to Mask today as possible."
I’m so grateful to my mother for keeping me in line. I jump out of my bed and into my Body Prayer clothes. I sync my Device to The Ranking as I run downstairs, so everyone can see how much Sin I burn. It’s particularly important to post today, it being The Selection and all. There are only eight weeks of lessons left before The Ceremony, and today at school everyone is voting to select the shortlist of potential winners. As Mother has reminded me for months – years, even – this is the most important day of my life. I feel lightheaded as I jump off the last step and clutch the banister for a second. Sometimes I eat a banana before Body Prayer, but it’s such a waste to do that when you can burn off more Sin on an empty stomach.
"Honestly, Belle, come on."
My mother marches into the hallway, her arms crossed over her hard torso.
"I said I’m coming."
She smiles and strokes my cheek, softening. "Sorry, my Bella Donna. I just want to make sure today goes perfectly for you. Remember, I’ve turned down two Mask appointments so I can focus solely on you today."
"I know, I know, thank you." Like I had any choice in that.
"Come on, let’s sweat out that Sin. It’s the most important day of your life to date."
"I know."
She picks the hardest intensity prayer and, as the world wakes up around us, Mum and I fall into perfect synchrony, the spring air seeping through the open windows. Sweat pours from my skin until I’m slippery with it. My legs burn like fires are raging inside of them. We jump so far and so high that the house shakes and it’s just as well Father isn’t here, like he usually isn’t. He’s constantly away, driving long distances to help the Industry. Once our Sin has been suitably burned, we turn to muscle-pulling, leaning over in an array of stretches to yank our sinew as lean and long as possible.
"Have you picked your final Look?" Mother asks, reaching down to touch her toes.
"I think so. It’s a bit warm for the denim but I reckon I can pull it off."
She flips herself upright, takes me in and smiles again, touching my cheek once more. "Oh, I’m so excited for you. I’d do anything to relive my Just Right years."
"Let’s just hope I get nominated."
I ride another nausea wave at the thought of not getting enough votes today and failing to fulfil The Doctrine’s destiny for me. I must win The Ceremony. I must be the prettiest. I must Have It All.
"Of course you will. You’re my daughter after all." She wrinkles her nose. "But you can never be too careful. Come on, I’ll let you shower first."
Everyone always wants to know my morning ritual so they can copy it, but, as today is so busy, I’ll explain briefly. I wake up, I do my Body Prayer, I wash, scrape off my top layer of skin, then scythe off any new bodily growths. I strip my hair, apply colour balance and nourishment mask, then rinse. After drying myself off, I brush my body to stop Sin Dimples forming, then I apply my creams. There’s the compression one, then the nourishment one, and finally I apply skin camouflage. While they’re settling in, it’s time for my face. I pour acid onto my fingers and dab it on, then face nourisher, then light blocker, before adding a pre-Mask. Then it’s back to my hair which takes another forty-five minutes to sculpt perfectly around my face. Mother comes in to do my Mask today. She blends three different colours of face camouflage and begins to artfully dab it on, painting a new face over mine, and adding illuminator so I glow out light. Then it’s onto my eyes and eye framers, rosy cheeks, more illuminator. We will do lips after we’ve had breakfast. God, I’m so hungry. After a small meal that hardly touches the sides of my stomach, I get into my chosen Look, set up the Halo and let Mum take photos for The Ranking. It’s The Selection Day, so I have to get my poses perfect. I squeeze every muscle in my body so they’re taut, and then arch my back, point my toe forward, hold my breath till I’m practically blue, and ensure my hand is on my hip with my arm bent away from my body. The Doctrine insists this must look effortless, so I arrange my Masked face into a relaxed smile and look off to the side, hiding my wince of pain. We finally upload, deleting any visible Sin that crept in, then we sit together on my bed and refresh our devices, seeing the Validation come in, counting it up, working out if I’m getting the most. Very quickly it’s clear we’ve totally smashed it. I’m Number One in my class’s ranking so far, and very far ahead. Vanessa, my best friend, hasn’t uploaded her Selection Day Look yet, but it would take a lot to beat me.
"We did it!" I shriek, feeling the familiar mixture of relief and self-esteem flood through me. I am the prettiest. I got it right today. I have the crown for another twenty-four hours, and these twenty-four hours are the most vital.
My mother high-fives me, jubilance radiating from her face – or maybe that’s just the Halo I’ve left on. "A team effort. I have no doubt you’ll be selected for The Ceremony today, but still…it’s always better to smash it." She strokes the curl flowing down across my forehead. "You’re so lucky," she sighs. Her face falls – though only metaphorically, due to all the Immobilizer in it. "So young still. I used to have hair this silky, before I had to start covering it…"
My stomach twists under my cropped top, tugging out last night’s nightmare.
"…but, hey, your mother still hasn’t become An Invisible, has she?"
I shake my head. "You’re still the most beautiful mother in town."
And we hug delicately so as not to ruin each other’s hair.
You Could Be So Pretty is published by Usborne
