The Selection Stories Collection (32 page)

“Castes never meant that much to me,” I said quietly. He gave me the smallest smile.

Lucy took in a breath like she was going to ask Aspen a question, but a loud yelling coursed through the chamber. A guard on the far end of the room was barking instructions for us to all silence ourselves.

Aspen walked away, which was good. I feared someone would be able to see something.

“That was the same guard from earlier, wasn’t it?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, it was.”

“I’ve seen him guarding your door lately. He’s awfully friendly,” she commented.

I was sure Aspen would speak to my maids as kindly as he spoke to me when they crossed his path. They were Sixes, after all.

“He’s very handsome,” she added.

I smiled and contemplated saying something, but that same guard instructed us to be quiet. After a few jagged edges of conversation dulled away, an eerie hush fell over the room.

The silence was worse than any sound. Without a single sense to guide me, my imagination took over, producing horrific scenes in my head: rooms demolished, a string of bodies, a merciless army only feet from the door. I found myself clutching the girls nearer to me, as if we could protect one another from whatever would come.

The only stirring was Maxon walking around to check on each of the girls. When he got to our corner, only Lucy was awake with me, and every once in a while, we’d have a quick conversation in breathed words, reading each other’s lips. As Maxon approached, he smiled at the pile of people leaning on me. In that moment, I could see no anger left from our argument, though I really wanted to resolve it. Instead, I saw his grateful smile, simply happy that I was okay. A wave of guilt went through me.... What had I gotten myself into?

“Are you well?” he asked.

I nodded. He looked at Lucy and leaned across me to speak to her. I inhaled. Maxon didn’t smell like anything that could be bottled. Not like cinnamon or vanilla or even, I remembered quickly, like homemade soap. He had his own smell, a mix of chemicals that burned out from him.

“And you?” he asked Lucy.

She nodded, too.

“Are you surprised to find yourself down here?” He smiled at Lucy, making light of what was an unimaginable situation.

“No, Your Majesty. Not with her.” Lucy nodded in my direction.

Maxon turned to look at me, and his face was incredibly close. I felt uncomfortable. Too many people could see us; Aspen included. But the moment passed quickly, and he turned back to Lucy.

“I know what you mean.” Maxon smiled again. He looked like he might say more, but then changed his mind and moved to stand.

I quickly grabbed his arm and whispered, “North or South?”

“Do you remember the photo shoot?” he breathed.

Shocked, I nodded. These rebels were making their way northwest, burning crops and slaughtering people along the way.
Intercept them
, he’d said. These rebels, these murderers, had been slowly coming for us all this time, and we couldn’t stop them. They were killers. They were Southerners.

“Tell no one.” He left, moving on to Fiona, who was holding herself and crying quietly.

I practiced breathing slowly, trying to imagine ways I could escape if they got to us, but I was fooling myself. If the rebels managed to get down here, it was all over. There was nothing to do but wait.

The hours crept on. I had no idea what time it was, but people who had dozed off had woken up, and those of us who had powered through the time were starting to wilt.

Finally, the door opened as some guards left to investigate. More time passed as the palace was swept, and eventually they returned.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” one of the guards called, “the rebels have been subdued. We are asking that everyone please return to their rooms via the back stairs. There’s quite a mess and scores of injured guards. It’s better if you all bypass the main rooms and halls until they can be cleared. If you are a member of the Selection, please proceed to your room and stay there until further notice. I’ve spoken with the cooks, and food will be brought to you within the hour. I’m going to need all medical personnel to report with me to the hospital wing.”

With that, people stood and started moving like nothing had happened. Some people even looked bored. Except for the faces of people like Lucy, it seemed everyone took the attack in stride, as if it were to be expected.

My room had been ransacked. Mattress on the floor, dresses pulled out of the closet, the pictures of my family torn up on the ground. I looked around for my jar, and it was still intact with its penny inside, just hidden under the bed. I tried not to cry, but my eyes kept welling up. It wasn’t that I was afraid, though I was. I just didn’t like that an enemy had put their hands all over my things, had ruined them.

It took quite a while to set things right, since we were all so tired. We managed, though. Anne even found some tape so I could put my pictures back together. I sent my maids to bed the moment I got my tape. Anne protested, but I wouldn’t have any of it. Now that I’d found my ability to command, I wasn’t afraid to use it.

Once I was alone, I let myself cry. The fear, even though it had mostly passed, still had a hold on me.

I pulled out the jeans that Maxon had given me and my one shirt from home and put them on. I felt a little more normal this way. My hair was messy from the events of the night and most of the morning, so I pulled it up into a casual little bun on the top of my head, pieces falling down around my face.

I set the fragments of pictures on the bed, trying to figure out which ones went together. It was like having four puzzles’ worth of pieces all in the same box. I had managed to put only one together when there was a knock at the door.

Maxon
, I thought.
Please be Maxon
. I threw the door open hopefully.

“Hello, dearie.” It was Silvia. She had a little pout on her face that I supposed was meant to be a consolation. She scuttled right past me into my room, then turned and took in what I was wearing.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re leaving, too,” she whined. “Honestly, it was nothing.” She wiped the whole incident away with her hand.

I wouldn’t call it nothing. Couldn’t she tell I’d been crying?

“I’m not leaving,” I said, tucking a hair behind my ear. “Are others going home?”

She sighed. “Yes, three so far. And Maxon, dear boy, told me to let anyone who wants to leave go home. Arrangements are being made as we speak. It’s so funny. It was as if he knew girls would be leaving. If I were in your position, I’d think twice before leaving over all this nonsense.”

Silvia started walking around my room, taking in the decor. Nonsense? What was wrong with this woman?

“Did they take anything?” she asked casually.

“No, ma’am. They made a mess, but nothing’s missing as far as I can tell.”

“Very good.” She walked over to me and handed me a tiny portable phone. “This is the safest line in the palace. You need to call your family and tell them you’re fine. Don’t take too long, now. I still have a few girls to see.”

I marveled at the tiny object. I’d never actually held a portable phone. I’d seen them before in the hands of Twos and Threes, but I never thought I’d get to use one. My hands trembled with excitement. I was going to hear their voices!

I dialed the number eagerly. After everything that had happened, it actually brought a smile to my face. Mom picked up after two rings.

“Hello?”

“Mom?”

“America! Is that you? Are you okay? Some guard called to tell us we might not be able to get ahold of you for a few days, and we knew those damn rebels had gotten through. We’ve been so scared.” She started crying.

“Oh, don’t cry, Mom. I’m safe.” I looked over at Silvia. She looked bored.

“Hold on.” There was a bit of movement.

“America?” May’s voice was thick with tears. She must have had the worst day.

“May! Oh, May, I miss you so much!” I felt the tears rising again.

“I thought you were dead! America, I love you. Promise me you won’t die,” she wailed.

“I promise.” I had to smile at such a vow.

“Will you come home? Can’t you? I don’t want you there anymore.” May was practically begging.

“Come home?” I asked.

I felt so many things. I missed my family, and I was tired of hiding from rebels. I was getting more and more confused over my feelings for Aspen and Maxon, and I didn’t know how to handle them. The easiest thing to do would be to leave. But still.

“No, May, I can’t come home. I have to stay here.”

“Why?” May moaned.

“Because,” I said simply.

“Because why?”

“Just . . . because.”

May was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Are you in love with Maxon?” For a minute I heard the boy-crazy May that I was used to. She’d be fine.

“Umm, I don’t know about that, but—”

“America! You’re in love with Maxon! Oh my gosh!” I heard Dad yelling, “What?” in the background and then Mom’s “Yes, yes, yes!”

“May, I never said—”

“I knew it!” May just laughed and laughed. Just like that, all her fears of losing me vanished.

“May, I have to go. The others need the phone. But I just wanted you all to know that I’m okay. I’ll write you soon, I promise.”

“Okay, okay. Tell me about Maxon! And send more treats! I love you!” she yelled.

“I love you, too. Bye.”

I hung up the phone before she could ask for anything else. The moment her voice was gone, though, I missed her more than I had before.

Silvia was swift. She had the phone out of my hand in a matter of seconds and was walking to the door.

“There’s a good girl,” she said, and disappeared down the hall.

I certainly didn’t feel good. But I knew that once I figured out how to set things right with Aspen and Maxon, I would.

A
MY, FIONA, AND TALLULAH were gone within hours. I wasn’t sure if the speed was due to the efficiency of Silvia or the nerves of the girls. We dropped to nineteen, and it suddenly felt like this was all moving quickly. Still, I couldn’t have predicted how much faster it would become.

The Monday after the attacks, we returned to our routine. Breakfast was as delicious as ever, and I wondered if there would come a time when I wouldn’t appreciate these amazing meals.

“Kriss, isn’t this divine?” I asked as I bit into a piece of star-shaped fruit. I’d never seen it before I came to the palace. Kriss’s mouth was full, but she nodded in agreement. I felt a warm sense of sisterhood this morning. Now that we had survived a major rebel attack together, it felt like these small bonds had sealed into something unbreakable. Beside Kriss, Emily was passing me honey. Next to me, Tiny was asking where my songbird necklace came from with admiration in her eyes. The atmosphere was that of my family dinners a few years ago, before Kota turned into a jerk and we lost Kenna to a husband: full, bright, chatty.

I suddenly knew, just as Maxon had said his mother had done, that I would contact these girls down the road. I would want to know who everyone married and send them Christmas cards. And in twenty-some-odd years, if Maxon had a son, I’d call to ask them about their favorite girls in the new Selection. And we’d remember everything we’d gone through and laugh about it as if it had been an adventure, not a competition.

Oddly enough, the only person in the room who appeared to be distressed was Maxon. He didn’t touch his food but instead gazed up and down the rows of girls with a clear look of concentration on his face. Every once in a while, he paused midthought and seemed to debate with himself over something, and then moved on.

When he came to my row, he caught me looking at him and gave me a weak smile. Except for the quick interlude last night, we hadn’t spoken since our argument, and there were things that needed to be said. This time, I needed to be the initiator. With an expression that said it was a request, not a demand, I tugged my ear. His expression remained strained, but he tugged his ear, too.

I sighed with relief and found my eyes moving toward the doors of the massive room. As I’d suspected, another pair of eyes was looking my way. I’d noticed Aspen when I entered, but I tried not to acknowledge him. I supposed it was impossible to ignore someone you’ve loved that much.

Maxon stood up. The sudden movement made his chair screech in a way that drew our collective attention. As we all turned toward him, he looked like he wished he could sit back down unnoticed. Realizing that wasn’t an option, he spoke instead.

“Ladies,” he said with a bow of his head. He looked genuinely pained. “I’m afraid that after yesterday’s attack, I’ve been forced to seriously reconsider the operation of the Selection. As you know, three ladies asked to leave yesterday, and I obliged. I wouldn’t want anyone here against their will. Furthermore, I don’t feel comfortable keeping anyone in the palace, facing this constant threat of danger, when I feel confident that we don’t have any sort of future together.”

Around the room, the confusion changed to a clear and unhappy understanding.

“He’s not. . .,” Tiny whispered.