The Selection Stories Collection

by Kiera Cass

  I obliged, still very nervous.

  “You put up quite a fight yesterday,” she commented.

  I swallowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “You were very close to her?”

  I choked back my sadness. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  She sighed. “A lady ought not to behave in such a way. The cameras were so focused on the action at hand that they missed your conduct. Still, it doesn’t behoove you to lash out like that.”

  It wasn’t the order of a queen. It was the reprimand of a mother. That made it a thousand times worse. It was like she felt responsible for me, and I’d let her down.

  I bowed my head. For the first time, I truly felt bad about how I reacted.

  She reached over and rested her hand on my knee. I looked up to her face, shocked by the casual touch.

  “All the same,” she whispered, “I’m glad you did it.” And she smiled at me.

  “She was my best friend.”

  “That doesn’t stop because she’s gone, sweetheart.” Queen Amberly patted my leg kindly.

  It was exactly what I needed: motherly affection.

  Tears bit at the corners of my eyes. “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered. I nearly let everything spill out right there about how I was feeling, but I was conscious of the eyes of the other girls on me.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t get involved,” she stated, and sighed. “Even if I wanted to, I’m not sure there’s much to say.”

  She was right. What words could undo all that had happened?

  The queen leaned in to me and spoke sweetly. “Still, go easy on him.”

  I knew she meant well, but I really didn’t want to discuss her son. I nodded and rose. She smiled at me kindly and gestured that I was free to go. I wandered over to sit with Elise and Kriss.

  “How are you doing?” Elise asked sympathetically.

  “I’m fine. It’s Marlee I’m worried about.”

  “At least they’re together. They’ll make it as long as they have each other,” Kriss commented.

  “How do you know Marlee and Carter are together?”

  “Maxon told me,” she replied, as if it was common knowledge.

  “Oh,” I said, disappointed.

  “I can’t believe he didn’t tell you, of all people. You and Marlee were so close. Besides, you’re his favorite, right?” she said.

  I glanced at Kriss, then at Elise. They both carried a look of concern in their eyes but also maybe a sense of relief.

  Celeste laughed. “She’s obviously not anymore,” she muttered, not bothering to look up from her magazine. Clearly, my fall was to be expected.

  I changed the subject back to Marlee. “I still can’t believe Maxon put them through that. It was disturbing how calm he was about it.”

  “But what she did was wrong,” Natalie remarked. There wasn’t anything judgmental about her tone, only a quiet acceptance, like she was following instructions.

  Elise spoke up. “He could have had them killed. The law is on his side in that one. He showed them mercy.”

  “Mercy?” I scoffed. “You call having your skin torn apart in public merciful?”

  “Yes, all things considered,” she continued. “I bet if we could ask Marlee, she’d choose caning over dying.”

  “Elise is right,” Kriss said. “I agree that it was absolutely terrible, but I would rather have that than death.”

  “Please,” I sneered, my anger coming to the surface. “You’re a Three. Everyone knows your dad’s a famous professor, and you’ve lived your whole life in libraries, completely comfortable. You’d never survive the beating, let alone a life as an Eight afterward. You’d be begging to die.”

  Kriss glared at me. “Don’t pretend that you know anything about what I can and cannot tolerate. Just because you’re a Five, you think you’re the only one who’s ever suffered?”

  “No, but I’m sure I’ve experienced far worse than you,” I said, my voice rising in anger, “and I couldn’t take what Marlee went through. I’m saying I doubt you’d fare any better.”

  “I’m braver than you think, America. You have no idea the things I’ve sacrificed over the years. And if I make a mistake, I own up to the consequences.”

  “Why should there be any consequences at all?” I posed. “Maxon keeps saying how difficult the Selection is for him, how hard it is to make the choice, and then one of us falls for someone else. Shouldn’t he be thanking her for making his decision easier?”

  Natalie, seeming distressed, tried to interject. “I heard the funniest thing yesterday!”

  “But the law—” Kriss called over her.

  “America has a point,” Elise countered quickly, and the ordered conversation crumbled.

  We were speaking over one another, trying to make our opinions heard, justifying why we thought what happened was wrong or right. This was a first, but something I’d been expecting from the start. With this many girls together, competing against one another, there was no way we wouldn’t fight eventually.

  Then, in a disconnected voice, Celeste mumbled to her magazine as we continued to argue, “Got what she deserved. Whore.”

  The following silence was as charged as our quarrel.

  Celeste looked over her shoulder just in time to see me lunge at her. She screamed as I landed on her, knocking us both into a coffee table. I heard something, probably a cup of tea, smash onto the floor.

  I’d closed my eyes midjump, and when I opened them, Celeste was underneath me, trying to grab at my wrists. I pulled back my right arm and slapped her as hard as I could across her face. The burning sensation in my hand was nearly overwhelming, but it was worth it to hear the satisfying smack that erupted when it made contact.

  Celeste immediately let out a shriek and started clawing at me. For the first time I regretted not keeping my nails long like the other girls did. She made a few cuts on my arm, which only angered me more, and I struck her again. This time I cut her lip. In response to the pain, she reached for something—the saucer from her cup of tea—and slammed it against the side of my head.

  Thrown off, I tried to grab at her again, but people were pulling us apart. I was so consumed, I hadn’t noticed someone calling for the guards. I took a swing at one of them, too. I was tired of being manhandled.

  “Did you see what she did to me?” Celeste cried.

  “You keep your mouth shut!” I screamed. “Don’t you ever talk about Marlee again!”

  “She’s crazy! Don’t you hear her? Did you see what she did?”

  “Let me go!” I said, struggling against the guard.

  “You’re psychotic! I’m going to tell Maxon right now. You can kiss the palace good-bye!” she threatened.

  “No one’s seeing Maxon right now,” the queen said sternly. She looked into Celeste’s eyes and then into mine. Her disappointment was clear. I hung my head. “You’re both going to the hospital wing.”

  The hospital wing was a long, pristine corridor with beds against the walls. Pinned by the head of each bed was a curtain to wrap around for privacy. Cabinets of medical supplies were scattered throughout.

  Wisely, Celeste and I were placed at opposite ends of the wing, with Celeste being closer to the entrance and me near a window in the back. She’d pulled her curtain partially around her bed almost immediately so she wouldn’t have to see me. I couldn’t blame her. I did have a rather smug look on my face. Even while the nurse tended to the sore spot behind my hairline where Celeste had hit me, I couldn’t bring myself to grimace.

  “Now, hold this ice here, and that will help keep the swelling down,” she offered.

  “Thanks,” I replied.

  The nurse looked up and down the wing quickly, seeming to check that no one could hear us. “Good for you,” she whispered. “Most everyone’s been waiting for something like this to happen.”

  “Really?” I asked, my voice as low as hers. I probably shouldn’t have been smiling this much.

  “I can’t be
gin to count the horror stories I’ve heard about that one,” she said, nodding her head toward Celeste’s curtained bed.

  “Horror stories?”

  “Well, she provoked that one girl who hit her.”

  “Anna? How do you know?”

  “Maxon’s a good man,” she said simply. “He made sure she was checked out here before she went home. She told us what Celeste said about her parents. It was so filthy, I can’t repeat it.” The look on her face conveyed her disgust.

  “Poor Anna. I knew it had to be something like that.”

  “One girl came in with her feet bleeding after someone slipped glass in her shoes in the night. We can’t prove it was Celeste, but who else would do something so mean?”

  “I never heard about that.” I gasped.

  “She looked terrified that she might get worse. I suppose she chose to keep her mouth shut. And Celeste hits her maids. Not with anything more than her hands, but they come in for ice from time to time.”

  “No!” All the maids I’d encountered were sweet girls. I couldn’t imagine any of them doing something that would provoke getting hit at all, let alone regularly.

  “Suffice to say, your antics are making the rounds already. You’re a hero around here,” the nurse said with a wink.

  I didn’t feel like a hero.

  “Wait,” I said suddenly. “You said Maxon had Anna checked out before he sent her home?”

  “Yes, miss. He’s very concerned that you’re all taken care of.”

  “What about Marlee? Did she come here? How was she when she left?”

  Before the nurse could answer, I heard Celeste’s pouty voice pierce the room.

  “Maxon, sweetheart!” she called as he marched through the doorway.

  We shared a brief moment of eye contact before he approached Celeste’s bed. The nurse walked away, leaving me alone and aching to know if she’d actually seen Marlee.

  The sound of Celeste’s whiny voice was almost too irritating to bear. I heard Maxon murmur his condolences, comforting the poor thing before extricating himself. He made his way around her curtain and focused his eyes on me, seeming exhausted as he walked down the wing.

  “You’re lucky my father had the cameras barred from the palace, otherwise there’d be hell to pay for your actions.” He ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. “How am I supposed to defend this, America?”

  “Are you going to kick me out, then?” I played with a piece of my dress while I waited for his answer.

  “Of course not.”

  “What about her?” I asked, nodding my head toward Celeste’s bed.

  “No. You’re all stressed after yesterday, and I can’t hold that against you. I’m not sure my father will accept that excuse, but that’s what I’m going to say.”

  I paused. “Maybe you should tell him it was my fault. Maybe you should just send me home.”

  “America, you’re overreacting.”

  “Look at me, Maxon,” I urged. I felt the lump rising in my throat and fought to speak past it. “I’ve known from the beginning I don’t have what it takes, and I thought that I could—I don’t know—change, or somehow make it work; but I can’t stay here. I can’t.”

  Maxon moved to sit on the edge of my bed. “America, you might hate the Selection, and you might be mad about what happened to Marlee; but I know that you care about me enough not to just abandon me in this.”

  I reached for his hand. “I also care enough about you to tell you you’re making a mistake.”

  I could see the pain in Maxon’s face as he held my hand tighter, as if he could hold me there and keep me from disappearing. Hesitantly, he leaned in and whispered, “It’s not always so difficult. And I want to show that to you, but you have to give me time. I can prove that there are good things to this, but you have to wait.”

  I inhaled to contradict him, but he cut me off. “For weeks, America, you’ve asked me for time, and I gave it to you without question because I had faith in you. Please, I need you to have a little bit of faith in me, too.”

  I didn’t know what Maxon could possibly show me that might change my mind, but how could I not give him more time when he’d done that for me?

  I sighed. “Fine.”

  “Thank you.” The relief in his voice was obvious. “I have to get back, but I’ll come see you soon.”

  I nodded. Maxon stood and left, stopping briefly to tell Celeste good-bye. I watched him go and wondered if trusting him was a bad idea.

  CHAPTER 12

  BOTH CELESTE’S AND MY INJURIES were minimal, so we were sent back to our rooms within an hour. They staggered our release times so we didn’t have to leave together, and thank goodness for that.

  As I turned the corner at the top of the stairs, I saw a guard coming toward me. Aspen. Even though he was bigger after being bulked up from training, I knew his walk and his shadow and a thousand other things that were ingrained in my heart.

  As he approached, he stopped to give me an unnecessary bow.

  “Jar,” he whispered, and rose again, continuing on his path.

  I stood there for a split second, confused, and then realized what he meant. Fighting the urge to run, I moved down the hall eagerly.

  I opened the door and was both surprised and relieved to find that all three of my maids were out.

  I went over to the jar on my bedside table and found that the one little penny in there had company. I opened the lid and pulled out the folded sheet of paper. How clever of him. My maids probably wouldn’t have noticed it; and if they had, they never would have intruded on my privacy.

  I unfolded the note and read a very clear list of instructions. It seemed Aspen and I had a date tonight.

  The directions Aspen gave me were complicated. I took a roundabout way to get to the first floor, where I was to look for the door next to the five-foot-high vase. I remembered that vase from walking around the palace before. What flower in the world needed a container that big?

  I found the door and looked around to double-check that no one saw me. I’d never managed to find myself so free from the eyes of the guards. Not a one in sight. I opened the door slowly and crept inside. The moon shone through the window, giving the room sparse light and making me feel a little nervous.

  “Aspen?” I whispered into the darkness, feeling silly and scared all at once.

  “Just like old times, eh?” his voice called, though I couldn’t see him.

  “Where are you?” I squinted, trying to find his form. Then the shadow of the heavy drape by the window shifted in the moonlight, and Aspen appeared from behind it.

  “You startled me,” I complained jokingly.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time, won’t be the last.” I heard the smile in his voice.

  I walked over to him, knocking into every obstacle along the way it seemed.

  “Shhh!” he complained. “The entire palace is going to know we’re in here if you keep pushing things over.” But I could tell he was playing.

  “Sorry,” I said, laughing quietly. “Can’t we turn on a light?”

  “No. If someone sees it shining under the door, we might get caught. This corridor isn’t checked a lot, but I want to be smart.”

  “How did you even know about this room?” I reached out, making contact with Aspen’s arms at last. He pulled me in for a hug and then started walking me toward the back corner.

  “I’m a guard,” he said simply. “And I’m very good at what I do. I know the entire grounds of the palace, inside and out. Every last pathway, all the hiding spots, and even most of the secret rooms. I also happen to know the rotations of the guards, which areas are usually the least checked, and the points in the day when the guards are at their fewest. If you ever want to sneak around the palace, I’m the guy to do it with.”

  “Unbelievable,” I mumbled. We sat behind the broad back of a couch, the floor blanketed in a patch of moonlight. Finally I could make out Aspen’s face.

  I questioned him seriou
sly. “Are you sure this is safe?” If he hesitated at all, I was planning to bolt that very second. For both our sakes.

  “Trust me, Mer. An extraordinary number of things would have to happen for someone to find us here. We’re safe.”

  I was still worried, but I needed to be comforted so badly, I went along.

  He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me in close. “How are you doing?”

  I sighed. “Okay, I guess. I’ve been sad a lot, and angry. Mostly I wish I could undo the last two days and get Marlee back. Carter, too, and I didn’t even know him.”

  “I did.” He sighed. “He’s a great guy. I heard he was telling Marlee he loved her the whole time and trying to help her get through it.”

  “He was,” I confirmed. “At least in the beginning anyway. I got hauled off before it was over.”

  Aspen kissed my head. “Yeah, I heard about that, too. I’m proud you went out with a fight. That’s my girl.”

  “My dad was proud, too. The queen said I shouldn’t act that way, but she was glad I did. It’s been confusing. Like it was almost a good idea but not really, and then it didn’t fix anything anyway.”

  Aspen held me closer. “It was good. It meant a lot to me.”

  “To you?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered, seeming reluctant to share. “Every once in a while I wonder if the Selection has changed you. You’ve been so taken care of, and everything is so fancy. I keep wondering if you’re the same America. That let me know that you are, that they haven’t gotten to you.”

  “Oh, they’re getting to me all right, but not like that. Mostly this place reminds me that I wasn’t born to do this.”

  I ducked my head into Aspen’s chest, the safe place where I’d always hidden when things were bad.

  “Listen, Mer, the thing about Maxon is that he’s an actor. He’s always putting on this perfect face, like he’s so above everything. But he’s just a person, and he’s as messed up as anyone is. I know you care about him or you wouldn’t have stayed here. But you have to know now that it’s not real.”

  I nodded. Maxon with his talk about putting on a calm face. Was that what he was always doing? Was he acting when he was with me? How was I supposed to be able to tell?