The Selection Stories Collection (29 page)

BOOK: The Selection Stories Collection
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“Let’s do that. I could use something relaxing. What kinds of movies do you like best?” he asked as we started walking toward where I guessed the stairwell to the basement was.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t get to watch a lot of movies. But I like romantic books. And comedies, too!”

“Romance, you say?” He raised his eyebrows like he was up to no good. I had to laugh.

We turned a corner and continued to talk. As we approached, a mass of the palace guard pulled to the side of the hall and saluted. There had to be more than a dozen men standing in the hallway. I was used to them by now. Even the sight of a collection that big couldn’t distract me from the fun time I was about to have with Maxon.

What did stop me was when I heard the gasp that escaped someone’s mouth as we passed. Maxon and I both turned.

And there was Aspen.

I gasped, too.

A few weeks ago, I’d heard some administrator in the palace talk about the draft in passing. I had wondered about Aspen, but seeing as I was running late to one of Silvia’s many lessons, I didn’t really have a chance to speculate much.

So he’d been taken by the draft after all. Of all the places he could have gone. . .

Maxon caught on. “America, do you know this young man?”

It had been more than a month since I’d seen Aspen, but this was the person I’d spent years committing to memory, the person who still visited my dreams. I would know him anywhere. He looked a little bigger, like he’d been fed, really fed, and was working out a lot. His scraggly hair had been cut short, practically all gone. And I was used to seeing him in secondhand clothes that were barely being held together by threads, and here he was in one of the brilliant, fitted uniforms of the palace guard.

He was alien and familiar at once. So many of the things around him seemed wrong. But those eyes . . . those were Aspen’s eyes.

My eyes fell to the name tag on his uniform:
OFFICER LEGER.

I doubted a second had passed.

I kept myself composed enough that no one saw the storm raging inside—a miracle in and of itself. I wanted to touch him, kiss him, scream at him, demand he leave my sanctuary. I wanted to melt away and disappear, but I felt so very
here
.

None of it made sense.

I cleared my throat. “Yes. Officer Leger comes from Carolina. He’s actually from my hometown.” I smiled at Maxon.

No doubt Aspen would have heard us laughing as we rounded the corner, would have noted that my arm was still draped on the prince’s. Let him make of that what he would.

Maxon seemed excited for me. “Well, how about that! Welcome, Officer Leger. You must be happy to see your Champion Girl again.” Maxon held his hand out, and Aspen shook it.

Aspen’s face was like a stone. “Yes, Your Majesty. Very much so.”

What did that mean?

“I’m sure you’re pulling for her, too,” Maxon encouraged as he winked at me.

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Aspen bowed his head a bit.

And what did
that
mean?

“Excellent. Since America is from your home province, I can’t think of a better man in the palace to leave her with. I’ll make sure you’re put on her guard rotation. This girl of yours refuses to keep a maid in her room at night. I’ve tried to tell her....” Maxon shook his head at me.

Aspen finally seemed to relax a bit. “I’m not surprised by that, Your Majesty.”

Maxon smiled. “Well, I’m sure you all have a busy day ahead of you. We’ll just be off. Good day, officers.” Maxon gave a quick nod and pulled me away.

It took all the strength in my body not to look back.

In the dark of the theater, I tried to figure out what to do. Maxon had made it clear from the night I’d told him about Aspen that he hated anyone who would treat me with so little care. If I told Maxon that the man he’d just assigned to watch over me was that very person, would he punish him somehow? I wouldn’t put it past him. He’d invented an entire support system for the country based on my stories of being hungry.

So I couldn’t tell him. I wouldn’t tell him. Because as mad as I was, I loved Aspen. And I couldn’t bear him being hurt.

Then should I leave? The ambivalence pulled at my heart. I could escape Aspen, get away from his face—a face that would torture me every day when I saw it and knew it was no longer mine. But if I left, I’d have to leave Maxon, too. And Maxon was my closest friend, maybe even more. I couldn’t just go. Besides, how would I explain it without telling him Aspen was here?

And my family. Maybe the checks they got were smaller, but at least they were getting them. May had written saying that Dad was promising our best Christmas ever this year, but I was sure that came with the stipulation that another Christmas might never be as good. If I left, who could say how much money my past fame would bring for my family? We had to save up as much as we could now.

“You didn’t like that one, did you?” Maxon asked nearly two hours later.

“Huh?”

“The movie. You didn’t laugh or anything.”

“Oh.” I tried to remember one little piece of information, a single scene that I could say I’d enjoyed. Nothing registered. “I think I’m just a little out of it today. Sorry you wasted your afternoon.”

“Nonsense.” Maxon waved away my lackluster attitude. “I just enjoy your company. Though perhaps you should take a nap before dinner. You’re looking a little pale.”

I nodded. I was considering going to my room and never coming back out.

CHAPTER 21

I
N THE END, I DECIDED against hiding in my room. Instead I chose the Women’s Room. Usually I darted in and out all day, visiting libraries, taking walks with Marlee, or even heading back upstairs to visit my maids. But now I was using the Women’s Room like a cave. No men, not even guards, were allowed inside without the queen’s express permission. It was perfect.

Well, it was perfect for three days. With this many girls, it was only a matter of time until someone had a birthday. Kriss’s was on Thursday. I guessed she’d mentioned it to Maxon—who seemed to never pass up an opportunity to give someone something—and the outcome was a mandatory party for all the Selected. As a result, Thursday was a mad rush of girls in and out of one another’s rooms, asking what they were wearing or guessing at how grand it would be.

It didn’t appear that gifts were required, but I figured I’d do something nice for her all the same.

On the day of the party, I donned one of my favorite day dresses and grabbed my violin. I crept down to the Great Room, looking around corners before I committed to walking on. Once I made it to the room, I did another sweep, surveying the guards who lined the walls. Mercifully, Aspen was nowhere to be seen, and I had to chuckle at the presence of so many men in uniform. Were they expecting a riot or something?

The Great Room was decorated beautifully. Special vases hung on the wall, displaying huge arrangements of yellow and white flowers, and similar bouquets sat in bowls around the room. Windows, stretches of wall, and pretty much anything that didn’t move was draped in garlands. A few small tables had been set out, and they were covered with bright linens. Little bits of glittering confetti sparkled on the table-tops. Ornate bows adorned the backs of chairs.

In one corner, a massive cake that matched the colors of the room waited to be cut. Next to it, a small table held a few gifts for the birthday girl.

A string quartet was set up against the wall, effectively making my attempt at a gift meaningless, and a photographer wandered the room, capturing moments for the public eye.

The mood in the room was playful. Tiny—who had so far only managed to get close to Marlee—was talking to Emmica and Jenna and looking more animated than I’d ever seen her. Marlee hovered near a window, looking like one of the many guards dotting the wall. She made no effort to leave her chosen spot but stopped anyone who passed by to chat. A group of Threes—Kayleigh, Elizabeth, and Emily—all turned and waved and smiled. I returned the gesture. Everyone seemed so friendly and happy today.

Except for Celeste and Bariel. Usually they were inseparable, but today they were on opposite ends of the room, with Bariel speaking to Samantha, and Celeste sitting alone at a table, clutching a crystal glass of deep red liquid. I’d obviously missed something between yesterday’s dinner and this afternoon.

I gripped my violin case again and walked toward the back of the room to see Marlee.

“Hi, Marlee. This is something, isn’t it?” I asked, setting down the violin.

“It sure is.” She hugged me. “I hear Maxon’s coming by later to wish Kriss a happy birthday in person. Isn’t that sweet? I’ll bet he has a present, too.”

Marlee went on in her typical enthusiastic way. I still wondered what her secret was, but I trusted her enough to bring up the subject if she really needed to talk about it. We spoke of little nothings for a few minutes until we heard a general clamor at the front end of the room.

Marlee and I both turned, and while she remained calm, I was completely deflated.

Kriss’s dress choice had been incredibly strategic. Here we all were in day dresses—short, girlish things—and she was in a floor-length gown. But the length meant little. It was that her dress was a creamy, almost white color. Her hair was done up with a row of yellow jewels pinned into a line across the front in a very subtle resemblance to a crown. She looked mature, regal, bridal.

Even though I wasn’t entirely sure where my heart was, I felt a pang of jealousy. None of us would ever get a similar moment. No matter how many parties or dinners came and went, it would be rather pathetic to try to copy Kriss’s look. I saw Celeste’s hand—the one that wasn’t clutching her drink—ball into a fist.

“She looks really pretty,” Marlee commented wistfully.

“Better than pretty,” I replied.

The party continued on, and Marlee and I mostly crowd-watched. Surprisingly—and suspiciously—Celeste clung to Kriss, talking up a storm as Kriss circled the room, thanking everyone for coming, even though we really had no choice.

Eventually she made it to the back corner where Marlee and I were standing, soaking up the warm sun from the windows. Marlee, true to form, threw her arms around Kriss.

“Happy birthday!” she squealed.

“Thank you!” Kriss replied, returning Marlee’s affection and enthusiasm.

“So you’re nineteen today, right?” Marlee asked.

“Yes. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate. I’m so glad they’re taking pictures. My mother will love this! Even though we do pretty well, we’ve never had money to have something like this. It’s so beautiful!” she gushed.

Kriss was a Three. There weren’t nearly as many limits to her life as mine, but I’d imagine anything close to this scale would be hard to justify.

“It is impressive,” Celeste commented. “For my birthday last year, I had a black and white party. Any trace of color, and you weren’t even allowed in the door.”

“Wow,” Marlee whispered, obvious envy in the tiny word.

“It was fantastic. Gourmet food, dramatic lighting, and the music! Well, we flew in Tessa Tamble. You’ve heard of her?”

It was impossible not to know Tessa Tamble. She had at least a dozen hit songs. Sometimes we saw videos of hers on TV, though that was frowned on by Mom. She thought we were infinitely more talented than anyone like Tessa, and it irked her to no end that she had fame and money when we didn’t for doing essentially the same thing.

“She’s my favorite!” Kriss exclaimed.

“Well, Tessa’s a dear friend of the family, so she came in and did a concert for my party. I mean, we couldn’t have a bunch of dreary Fives sucking all the life out of the room.”

Marlee gave me a quick sideways glance. I could tell she was feeling embarrassed for me.

“Oops,” Celeste added, looking at me. “I forgot. I meant no offense.”

The sticky sweetness of her voice was infuriating. Once again I was tempted to hit her.... Better not to push it.

“None taken,” I replied, as composed as I possibly could. “Exactly what do you do as a Two, Celeste? I mean, I’ve never heard your music on the radio.”

“I model,” she answered in a tone that implied I should have known that. “Haven’t you seen my ads?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Oh, well, you are a Five. I guess you can’t afford the magazines anyway.”

It hurt because it was true. May loved to sneak peeks at magazines when we managed to go by a store, but there was absolutely no reason for us to buy them.

Kriss, taking on the role of host again, switched directions.

“You know, America, I’ve been meaning to ask what your focus was as a Five.”

“Music.”

“You should play for us sometime!”

I sighed. “Actually, I brought my violin to play for you today. I thought it would make a nice gift, but you’ve already got a quartet, so I figured—”

“Oh, play for us!” Marlee begged.

“Please, America, it’s my birthday!” Kriss echoed.

“But they’ve already given you a—” It didn’t matter how I protested. Kriss and Marlee had already shushed the quartet and made everyone come to the back of the room. Some girls fanned their dresses out and sat on the floor, while others pulled a few chairs toward the corner. Kriss stood in the middle of the crowd, clutching her hands with excitement, as Celeste stood by, holding the crystal glass she had yet to take a sip from.

BOOK: The Selection Stories Collection
4.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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