The Selection series 1-3. Кира Касс

      “But when he saw all the money that I’d spent on him, it upset him. He’s very proud. He wanted to spoil me, not the other way around, and I guess he saw then that he’d never be able to. So he broke up with me instead ….

      “One week later, my name got called.”

      I heard Maxon whisper something unintelligible.

      “The last time I saw him was at my send-off,” I choked. “He was with another girl.”

      “WHAT?” Maxon shouted.

      I buried my head in my hands.

      “The thing is, it drives me crazy because I know other girls are after him, they always were, and now he has no reason to turn them down. Maybe he’s even with the girl from my send-off. I don’t know. And I can’t do anything about it. But the thought of going home and watching it … I just can’t, Maxon ….”

      I wept and wept, and Maxon didn’t rush me. When the tears finally started to slow, I spoke.

      “Maxon, I hope you find someone you can’t live without. I really do. And I hope you never have to know what it’s like to have to try and live without them.”

      Maxon’s face was a shallow echo of my own pain. He looked absolutely brokenhearted for me. More than that, he looked angry.

      “I’m sorry, America. I don’t …” His face shifted a little. “Is this a good time to pat your shoulder?”

      His uncertainty made me smile. “Yes. Now would be a great time.”

      He seemed as skeptical as he’d been the other day, but instead of just patting my shoulder, he leaned in and tentatively wrapped his arms around me.

      “I only really ever hug my mother. Is this okay?” he asked.

      I laughed. “It’s hard to get a hug wrong.”

      After a minute, I spoke again. “I know what you mean, though. I don’t really hug anyone besides my family.”

      I felt so drained after the long day of dressing and the Report and dinner and talking. It was nice to have Maxon just hold me, sometimes even patting my hair. He wasn’t as lost as he seemed. He patiently waited for my breathing to slow, and when it did, he pulled back to look at me.

      “America, I promise you I’ll keep you here until the last possible moment. I understand that they want me to narrow the Elite down to three and then choose. But I swear to you, I’ll make it to two and keep you here until then. I won’t make you leave a moment before I have to. Or the moment you’re ready. Whichever comes first.”

      I nodded.

      “I know we just met, but I think you’re wonderful. And it bothers me to see you hurt. If he were here, I’d … I’d …” Maxon shook with frustration, then sighed. “I’m so sorry, America.”

      He pulled me back in, and I rested my head on his broad shoulder. I knew Maxon would keep his promises. So I settled into perhaps the last place I ever thought I’d find genuine comfort.

      

      WHEN I WOKE THE NEXT MORNING, my eyelids felt heavy. As I rubbed the tiny ache out of them, I felt glad that I’d told Maxon everything. It seemed so funny that the palace—the beautiful cage—was the one place I could actually let myself be open about everything I’d been feeling.

      Maxon’s promise settled in during the night, and I felt sure that I’d be safe here. This whole process of Maxon whittling down thirty-five women to one was going to take weeks, maybe months. Time and space were just what I needed. I couldn’t be sure I’d ever get over Aspen. I’d heard my mom talk about your first love being the one that sticks with you. But maybe I’d be able to just feel normal sooner rather than later with this time in between us.

      My maids didn’t ask about my puffy eyes, they just made them less swollen. They didn’t question my mess of hair, they just smoothed it. And I appreciated that. It wasn’t like home, where everyone saw that I was sad and didn’t do anything about it. Here I could feel that they were all worried about me and whatever it was I was going through. In response they handled me with extreme care.

      By midmorning I was ready to start my day. It was Saturday, so there was no routine or schedule, but it was the one day a week we were all required to stay in the Women’s Room. The palace saw guests on Saturdays, and we had been warned that people might want to meet us. I wasn’t too excited about it, but at least I got to wear my new jeans for the first time. Of course, they were the best-fitting pair of pants I’d ever owned. I hoped that since Maxon and I were on such good terms, he’d let me keep them after I left.

      I went downstairs slowly, a little tired from a late night. Before I even got to the Women’s Room, I heard the buzz of talking girls, and when I walked in, Marlee grabbed me and pulled me toward two chairs in the back of the room.

      “There you are! I’ve been waiting for you,” she said.

      “Sorry, Marlee. I had a long night and slept in.”

      She turned to look at me, probably noting the leftover sadness in my voice, but sweetly decided to focus on my jeans. “Those look fantastic.”

      “I know. I’ve never felt anything like them.” My voice lifted a bit. I decided to go back to my old rule: Aspen wasn’t allowed here. I pushed him away and focused on my second-favorite person in the palace. “Sorry to keep you waiting. What did you want to talk about?”

      Marlee hesitated. She bit her lip as we sat down. There was no one else around. She must have a secret.

      “Actually, now that I think of it, maybe I shouldn’t tell you. Sometimes I forget that we’re competing against each other.”

      Oh. She had secrets of the Maxon variety. This I had to hear.

      “I know just how you feel, Marlee. I think we could become really close friends. I can’t bring myself to think of you as an enemy, you know?”

      “Yeah. I think you’re so sweet. And the people love you. I mean, you’re probably going to win ….” She seemed a little defeated at the idea.

      I had to will myself not to wince or laugh at those words.

      “Marlee, can I tell you a secret?” My voice was full of gentle truth. I hoped she would believe my words.

      “Of course, America. Anything.”

      “I don’t know who will win this whole thing. Really, it could be anyone in this room. I guess everyone thinks that it’ll be them, but I already know that if it can’t be me, I’d want it to be you. You seem generous and fair. I think you’d be a great princess. Honestly.” It was almost all the truth.

      “I think you’re smart and personable,” she whispered. “You’d be great, too.”

      I bowed my head. It was sweet of her to think so highly of me. I felt a bit uncomfortable when people talked about me that way, though … May, Kenna, my maids … it was hard to believe how many people thought I’d be a good princess. Was I the only one who saw how flawed I was? I was unrefined. I didn’t have it in me to be bossy or overly organized. I was selfish and had a horrible temper, and I didn’t like being in front of people. And I wasn’t brave. You had to be brave to take this job. And that’s what this was. Not just a marriage, but a position.

      “I feel that way about a lot of the girls,” she confessed. “Like everyone has some quality that I don’t that would make them better than me.”

      “That’s the thing, Marlee. You could probably find something special about everyone in this room. But who knows exactly what Maxon is looking for?”

      She shook her head.

      “So let’s not worry about that. You can tell me anything