Kiera Cass - The Selection

I didn’t hear what any of the girls said after me, though I stared at the two seats. That interview had become way more personal than I’d intended it to be. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Maxon. Instead I sat there replaying my words again and again in my head.

The knock on my door came around ten. I flung it open, and Maxon rolled his eyes.

“You really ought to have a maid in here at night.”

“Maxon! Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that in front of everyone. It was so stupid.”

“Do you think I’m mad at you?” he asked as he walked in and shut the door. “America, you call me by my name so often, it was bound to slip out. I wish it had been in a slightly more private setting,” he said with a sly smile, “but I don’t hold that against you at all.”

“Really?”

“Of course, really.”

“Ugh! I felt like such an idiot tonight. I can’t believe you made me tell that story!” I slapped him on the side gently.

“That was the best part of the whole night! Mom was really amused. In her day the girls were more reserved than even Tiny, and here you are calling me shallow … she couldn’t get over it.”

Great. Now the queen thought I was a misfit, too. We walked across my room and ended up on the balcony. There was a small, warm breeze blowing the scent of the thousands of flowers in the garden toward us. A full moon shone down on us, adding to the lights around the palace, and it gave Maxon’s face a mysterious glow.

“Well, I’m glad you’re so amused,” I said, running my fingers across the railing.

Maxon hopped up to sit on the railing, looking very relaxed. “You’re always amusing. Get used to it.”

Hmm. He was almost being funny.

“So … about what you said…,” he started tentatively.

“Which part? The part about me calling you names or fighting with my mom or saying food was my motivation?” I rolled my eyes.

He laughed once. “The part about me being good…”

“Oh. What about it?” Those few sentences suddenly seemed more embarrassing than anything else I’d said. I ducked my head down and twisted a piece of my dress.

“I appreciate you making things look authentic, but you didn’t need to go that far.”

My head snapped up. How could he think that?

“Maxon, that wasn’t for the sake of the show. If you had asked me a month ago what my honest opinion of you was, it would have been very different. But now I know you, and I know the truth, and you are everything I said you were. And more.”

He was quiet, but there was a small smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

“Anytime.”

Maxon cleared his throat. “He’ll be lucky, too.” He got down from his makeshift seat and walked to my side of the balcony.

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend. When he comes to his senses and begs you to take him back,” Maxon said matter-of-factly.

I had to laugh. No such thing would happen in my world.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. And he made it pretty clear he was done with me.” Even I could hear the tiny bit of hope in my voice.

“Not possible. He’ll have seen you on TV by now and fallen for you all over again. Though, in my opinion, you’re still much too good for the dog.” Maxon spoke almost as if he was bored, like he’d seen this happen a million times.

“Speaking of which!” he said a bit louder. “If you don’t want me to be in love with you, you’re going to have to stop looking so lovely. First thing tomorrow I’m having your maids sew some potato sacks together for you.”

I hit his arm. “Shut up, Maxon.”

“I’m not kidding. You’re too beautiful for your own good. Once you leave, we’ll have to send some of the guards with you. You’ll never survive on your own, poor thing.” He said all this with mock pity.

“I can’t help it.” I sighed. “One can never help being born into perfection.” I fanned my face as if being so pretty was exhausting.

“No, I don’t suppose you can help it.”

I giggled. I didn’t notice for a moment that Maxon didn’t seem to think it was funny.

I stared out at the garden and saw out of the corner of my eye that Maxon was looking at me. His face was incredibly close to mine. When I turned to ask just what he was looking at, I was surprised to see that he was close enough to kiss me.

I was even more surprised when he did.

I pulled away quickly, taking a step. Maxon stepped back as well.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, blushing.

“What are you doing?” I asked in a shocked whisper.

“Sorry.” He was slightly turned away, obviously embarrassed.

“Why did you do that?” I put my hand to my mouth.

“It’s just … with what you said earlier, and then seeking me out yesterday … just the way you acted… I thought maybe your feelings had changed. And I like you, I thought you could tell.” He turned to face me. “And… Oh, was it terrible? You don’t look happy at all.”

I tried to wipe whatever expression I had off my face. Maxon looked mortified.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just… I’m sorry, America.” He breathed a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his hair a few times, leaning against the railing.

I didn’t expect it, but a warmth filled me.

He’d wanted his first kiss to be with me.

I thought about the Maxon I knew now—the man full of compliments, the man prepared to give me the winnings of a bet I lost, the man who forgave me when I hurt him both physically and emotionally—and discovered that I didn’t mind that at all.

Yes, I still had feelings for Aspen. I couldn’t undo that. But if I couldn’t be with him, then what was holding me back from being with Maxon? Nothing more than my preconceived ideas of him, which were nothing close to who he was.

I stepped up to him and rubbed my hand across his forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m erasing that memory. I think we can do better.” I pulled my hand down and propped myself up beside him, facing toward my room. Maxon didn’t move … but he did smile.

“America, I don’t think you can change history.” All the same, his expression looked hopeful.

“Sure we can. Besides, who’d ever know about it but you and me?”

Maxon looked at me for a moment, clearly wondering if this was really okay. Slowly, I saw a cautious confidence creep into his face as he looked into my eyes. We stayed that way for a moment before I could remember just what I had said.

“One can never help being born into perfection,” I whispered.

He came close, wrapping an arm around my waist so that we faced each other. His nose tickled mine. He ran his fingers across my cheek so gently it seemed he was afraid I would break.

“No, I don’t suppose you can,” he breathed.

With his hand holding my face toward his, Maxon lowered his lips to mine and gave me the faintest whisper of a kiss.

Something about the tentativeness of it made me feel beautiful. Without a word, I could understand how excited he was to have this moment, but then afraid at the same time. And deeper than any of that, I sensed that he adored me.

So this was what it felt like to be a lady.

After a moment, he pulled back and asked, “Was that better?”

I could only nod. Maxon looked like he was on the verge of doing a backflip. There was a similar feeling in my chest. That was so unexpected. This was all too quick, too strange. The confusion must have shown on my face, because Maxon got serious.

“May I say something?”

I nodded again.

“I’m not so stupid as to believe that you’ve completely forgotten about your former boyfriend. I know what you’ve gone through and that you’re not exactly here under the normal circumstances. I know you think there are others here more suited for me and this life, and I wouldn’t want you to rush into trying to be happy with any of this. I just… I just want to know if it’s possible…”