The Pledge (The Pledge 1)

But Max beat him to it, taking the strap before Aron had the chance as he slid it from my shoulder. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to walk with Charlie today.” He said my name as if we were old friends, in need of catching up.

Aron glared at Max but spoke to me. “What do you want to do?”

I glanced at Max. Where he seemed cautious with Brooklynn, I felt him opening up as he looked back at me. I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

But I shrugged anyway. “It’s okay. You two go ahead.”

Brooklynn’s shoulders fell, and I realized she would probably be mad at me again. Still, I watched them go, Aron dutifully carrying her book bag.

“You ready?” Max asked, as he slipped my bag over his shoulder. It looked ridiculously small on him, and I was almost amazed that his arm even fit through the strap.

When he started walking, I fell into step beside him, wondering what his friends—who also wore the dark green uniforms of soldiers—planned to do while we walked. But then they started moving too, matching our pace while maintainin Bght heistep besig their distance from across the street. It was eerie, like having a long-distance shadow.

“Do they always follow you?” I asked, watching as people moved out of their path.

Max shrugged beside me, as if his answer meant nothing. “We usually stay together, but I’ve asked them not to bother us. I told you, they’re harmless.”

Examining the two men, I doubted the truth of his words but trusted the sincerity in his tone. As long as they stayed away from us, on their side of the street, I supposed that their presence was nothing but odd. Besides, it was far too easy to forget their existence at all whenever I looked at Max.

I would have to stop doing that: looking at him.

His hand slipped through my elbow, resting just inside the crook of my arm as he led the way. It was a familiar gesture, as if we were comfortable with each other. But that wasn’t true. . . . I could feel electric currents shooting up to my shoulder and all the way down to my toes. There was nothing comfortable between us.

And touching him—I would have to stop doing that as well.

But not now. Later, perhaps.

I wasn’t sure how, but I managed to remember the questions I’d meant to ask him. I turned my head to the side and studied his profile. “How did you find me? How did you know where I go to school?”

He didn’t hesitate. “There aren’t that many vendor schools in the city, and this was the closest one to your family’s restaurant.”

He was right, School 33 was one of only three inside the Capitol’s walls; the rest were scattered throughout the country.

“So, why then? Why me?”

“I already answered that. You fascinate me.” He gazed down, and with his free hand reached over to brush a strand of stray hair from my cheek. His fingers left a fiery path on my skin. “You are beautiful,” he breathed in that unfamiliar language. And, of course, he had no way of knowing that I’d understood what he’d just said.

“You can’t do that.”

“What?”

“Speak to me like that.” I refused to look away now that he’d challenged me with his words, even though the meaning made me flush.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s illegal. I’m a merchant; you force me to break the law when you speak to me in anything other than Parshon or Englaise. You know that.” I glared at him, daring him to argue.

“I don’t force you not to look away. You make your own choice; any lawbreaking is your own decision.” I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me, and I felt suddenly trapped by my own actions. His uniform stared back at me.

I stopped walking, and his hand fell from my arm. I narrowed my eyes. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” I accused. “You came to me. I didn’t seek you out. I didn’t find you fascinating—”

He stopped too. “Charlie, I was only teasing. Relax, I’m not worried about what you hear and what you don’t. I just want to know you.” His eyes flashed with something real, something honest. Something intense. Then his lips curved into a sly grin. “And are you trying to tell me you aren’t a little bit fascinated by me?”

I was confused. Normally I felt more in control of myself, of my emotions. Yet with Max it was different. I was unsure of everything, because he was right. I was fascinated. And it went far beyond attraction.

But before I could question him about his language, he caught me off guard, turning quickly and ducking his head low as a group of men passed us on the sidewalk. I glanced at the men, wanting to see why Max would avoid them.

They were military men, five in all, dressed in the blue wool uniforms of the guard. They were lower ranking than Max’s soldier grade, and they straightened in a show of respect as they passed, despite the fact that Max refused to acknowledge—or even look up in—their presence.

He kept his head, and his eyes, averted, an action that had nothing to do with his class, since men of the military didn’t abide by the class system. As long as they were enlisted, class held no meaning; rank was the only true divider.

One of the men’s eyes fell on me in a way that made me squirm inside—in the same way the bouncer’s gaze had that night at Prey. Although in Max’s presence, the glance was brief, and for that at least, I was thankful. I wasn’t like Brooklynn in that regard. I preferred to go unnoticed.

For several moments we stood there, waiting in tense silence, until the men had gone.