The One (The Selection, #3)(19)

“It’s so beautiful,” I whispered.

Maxon stood behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Leave it to you to find beauty in something others would say ruins a day.”

“I wish I could touch it.”

He sighed. “I know you do, but it’s just not—”

I turned to Maxon, trying to see why he cut himself off. He looked up and down the hall, and I did the same. Besides a couple of guards, we were alone.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand. “Let’s hope we’re not seen.”

I smiled, ready for whatever adventure he had in mind. I loved when Maxon was like this. We wound our way up the stairs, heading for the fourth floor. For a moment, I got nervous, worried he’d show me something similar to the hidden library. That hadn’t turned out so well for me.

We walked down to the middle of the floor, passing one guard on his rounds but no one else. Maxon pulled me into a large parlor and steered me to the wall next to a wide, dormant fireplace. He reached inside the lip of the fireplace and, sure enough, found a hidden latch. He pushed open a panel in the wall, and it led to yet another secret stairwell.

“Hold my hand,” he said, stretching his out to me. I did so, following him up the dimly lit steps until we came to a door. Maxon undid the simple lock, pulled open the door . . . and there was a wall of rain.

“The roof?” I asked over the sound.

He nodded. There were walls surrounding the entrance, leaving an open space about as large as my bedroom to walk on. It didn’t matter that all I could see were walls and sky. At least I was outside.

Positively beside myself, I stepped forward, reaching into the water. The drops were fat and warm as they collected on my arm and ran down to my dress. I heard Maxon laugh once before shoving me out into the downpour.

I gasped, soaked in seconds. Turning around, I grabbed his arm, and he smiled as he pretended to fight. His hair fell in strands around his eyes as we were both quickly drenched, and he was still grinning as he pulled me over to the edge of the wall.

“Look,” he said into my ear.

I turned, noticing our view for the first time. I stared in awe as the city spread out in front of me. The web of streets, the geometry of buildings, the array of colors—even dimmed in the gray hue of rain, it was breathtaking.

I found myself feeling attached to it all, as if it belonged to me somehow.

“I don’t want the rebels to take it, America,” he said over the rain, as if he was reading my mind. “I don’t know how bad the death toll is, but I can tell that my father is keeping it a secret from me. He’s afraid I’ll call off the Selection.”

“Is there a way to find out the truth?”

He debated. “I feel like, if I could get in touch with August, he’d know. I could get a letter to him, but I’m afraid of putting too much in writing. And I don’t know if I could get him into the palace.”

I considered that. “What if we could get to him?”

Maxon laughed. “How do you suggest we do that?”

I shrugged playfully. “I’ll work on it.”

He stared at me, quiet for a minute. “It’s nice to say things out loud. I’m always watching what I say. I feel like no one can hear me up here, I guess. Just you.”

“Then go ahead and say anything.”

He smirked. “Only if you will.”

“Fine,” I answered, happy to play along.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

I wiped the wet hair from my forehead, starting with something important but impersonal. “Did you really not know about the diaries?”

“No. But I’m up to speed now. Father made me read them all. If August had come two weeks ago, I would have thought he was lying about everything, but not anymore. It’s shocking, America. You only scratched the surface with what you read. I want to tell you about it, but I can’t yet.”

“I understand.”

He stared me down, determined. “How did the girls find out about you taking off my shirt?”

I looked at the ground, hesitating. “We were watching the guards work out. I said you looked as good as any of them without your shirt on. It slipped out.”

Maxon threw back his head and laughed. “I can’t be mad about that.”

I smiled. “Have you ever brought anyone else up here?”

He looked sad. “Olivia. One time, and that’s it.”

I actually remembered that, come to think of it. He’d kissed her up here, and she’d told us all about it.

“I kissed Kriss,” he blurted out, not looking at me. “Recently. For the first time. It seems only right that you should know.”

He peeked down, and I gave him a small nod. If I hadn’t seen them kiss myself, if this had been how I found out, I might have broken down. And even though I already knew, it hurt to hear him say it.

“I hate dating you this way.” I fidgeted, my dress getting heavy with water.

“I know. It’s just how it is.”

“Doesn’t make it fair.”

He laughed. “When has anything in either of our lives ever been fair?”

I gave him that. “I’m not supposed to tell you—and if you let on that you know, he’ll get worse, I’m sure—but . . . your father’s been saying things to me. He also took away the payments for my family. None of the other girls has them anymore, so I guess it looked bad anyway.”