The Selection (The Selection #1)(36)

I was glad I’d saved May’s for last.

Her letter was absolutely giddy. She admitted how jealous she was that I was eating like that all the time. She also complained that Mom was bossing her around more. I knew how that felt. The rest was a barrage of questions. Was Maxon as cute in person as he was on TV? What was I wearing now? Could she come and visit the palace? Did Maxon have a secret brother who would be willing to marry her one day?

I giggled and embraced my collection of letters. I’d have to make the effort to write back soon. There had to be a telephone around here somewhere, but so far no one had made us aware of it. Even if I had one in my room, it would probably be overkill to call home daily. Besides, these letters would be fun to hold on to. Proof I’d really been here when this whole place would be a memory.

I went to bed with the comforting knowledge that my family was doing well, and that warmth lulled me into a sound sleep that was only hitched by a twinge of nerves at being alone with Maxon again. I couldn’t quite pin down the reason, but I hoped it was all for nothing.

“For the sake of appearances, would you please take my arm?” Maxon asked as he escorted me from my room the next day. I was a little hesitant, but I did.

My maids had already put me in my evening dress: a little blue thing with an empire waist and capped sleeves. My arms were bare, and I could feel the starched fabric of Maxon’s suit against my skin. Something about it all made me uncomfortable. He must have noticed, because he tried to distract me.

“I’m sorry she didn’t cry,” he said.

“No you’re not.” My joking tone made it clear I wasn’t too upset about losing.

“I’ve never gambled before. It was nice to win.” His tone was slightly apologetic.

“Beginner’s luck.”

He smiled. “Perhaps. Next time we’ll try to make her laugh.”

I instantly started running scenarios through my mind. What from the palace would make May just die with laughter?

Maxon could tell I was thinking about her. “What’s your family like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that. Your family must be very different from mine.”

“I’d say so.” I laughed. “For one, no one wears their tiaras to breakfast.”

Maxon smiled. “More of a dinner thing at the Singer house?”

“Of course.”

He chuckled quietly. I was starting to think maybe Maxon wasn’t nearly the snob I’d suspected he was.

“Well, I’m the middle child of five.”

“Five!”

“Yeah, five. Most families out there have lots of kids. I’d have lots if I could.”

“Oh, really?” Maxon’s eyebrows were raised.

“Yes,” I answered. My voice was low. I couldn’t quite say why, but that seemed like a very intimate detail about my life. Only one other person had really known about it.

I felt a spasm of sadness but shoved it away.

“Anyway, my oldest sister, Kenna, is married to a Four. She works in a factory now. My mom wants me to marry at least a Four, but I don’t want to have to stop singing. I love it too much. But I guess I’m a Three now. That’s really weird. I think I’m going to try to stay in music if I can.

“Kota is next. He’s an artist. We don’t see much of him these days. He did come to see me off, but that’s about it.

“Then there’s me.”

Maxon smiled effortlessly. “America Singer,” he announced, “my closest friend.”

“That’s right.” I rolled my eyes. There was no way I could actually be his closest friend. At least not yet. But I had to admit, he was the only person I’d ever really confided in who wasn’t family or someone I was in love with. Well, Marlee, too. Could it be the same way for him?

Slowly we moved down the hallway and toward the stairs. He didn’t appear to be in any sort of rush.

“After me there’s May. She’s the one who sold me out and didn’t cry. Honestly, I was robbed; I can’t believe she didn’t cry! But yeah, she’s an artist. I … I adore her.”

Maxon examined my face. Talking about May softened me a bit. I liked Maxon well enough, but I didn’t know how far I wanted to let him in.

“And then Gerad. He’s the baby; he’s seven. He hasn’t quite figured out if he’s into music or art yet. Mostly he likes to play ball and study bugs, which is fine except that he can’t make a living that way. We’re trying to get him to experiment more. Anyway, that’s everyone.”

“What about your parents?” he pressed.

“What about your parents?” I replied.

“You know my parents.”

“No, I don’t. I know the public image of them. What are they really like?” I pulled on his arm, which was quite a feat. Maxon’s arms were huge. Even beneath the layers of his suit, I could feel the strong, steady muscles there. Maxon sighed, but I could tell I didn’t really exasperate him at all. He seemed to like having someone pester him. It must be sad to grow up in this place without any siblings.

He started thinking about what he was going to say as we stepped into the garden. The guards all wore sly smiles as we passed. Just past them a camera crew waited. Of course they would want to be present for the prince’s first date. Maxon shook his head at them, and they retreated indoors immediately. I heard someone curse. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to being followed around by cameras, but it seemed strange to dismiss them.