The Elite (The Selection 2)

I put on my robe and ran my fingers through my hair, wanting to look half as put together as he did. I wasn’t sure exactly how to talk about this, because I was essentially about to ask Maxon if he knew he was sitting on top of something that was much less altruistic than the public had been led to believe. Just as I was starting to wonder what was taking him so long, he knocked on the door.

I rushed over to open it and was greeted by the lens of his camera. It clicked a still of my shocked smile. My expression dissolved into something that expressed how unamused I was by this little stunt, and he captured that, too, laughing.

“You’re ridiculous. Get in here,” I ordered, grabbing him by the arm.

He followed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“You took your time,” I accused, settling on the edge of the bed. He came to sit beside me, far enough away that we could face each other.

“I had to stop by my room.” He placed his camera safely on my bedside table, flicking at my jar with the penny in it. He made a sound that was almost a laugh and turned back to me, not explaining his detour.

“Oh. So how was your trip?”

“Odd,” he confessed. “We ended up going to the rural part of New Asia. Father said it was some local dispute; but by the time we got there, everything was fine.” He shook his head. “Honestly, it made no sense. We spent a few days walking through old cities and trying to speak to the natives. Father is quite disappointed with my grasp of the language and is insisting I study more. As if I’m not doing enough these days,” he said with a sigh.

“That is kind of strange.”

“I’m guessing it was some sort of test. He’s been throwing them at me randomly lately, and I don’t always know they’re happening. Maybe this was about decision making or dealing with the unexpected. I’m not sure.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Either way, I’m sure I failed.”

He fidgeted with his hands for a minute. “He also really wanted to talk about the Selection. I think he felt like distance would do me good, give me perspective or something. Honestly, I’m tired of everyone else talking about a decision that I’m supposed to make.”

I was sure the king’s idea of perspective meant getting me out of Maxon’s head. I’d seen the way he smiled at the other girls at meals or nodded to them in the hallways. He never did that to me. I felt instantly uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say.

It appeared Maxon didn’t either.

I decided I couldn’t ask him about the diary yet. He seemed so humble about these things—the way he led, the kind of king he wanted to be—that I couldn’t demand answers from him that I wasn’t anywhere close to sure he had. A tiny corner of my brain couldn’t shake the worry that he knew more than he’d ever shared, but I needed to know more myself before I spoke.

Maxon cleared his throat and pulled a little string of beads out of his pocket.

“As I said, we were walking through a bunch of towns, and I saw this in an old woman’s street shop. It’s blue,” he added, pointing out the obvious. “You seem to like blue.”

“I love blue,” I whispered.

I looked at the little bracelet. A few days ago, Maxon was walking on the other side of the world, and he saw this in a shop … and it made him think of me.

“I didn’t find anything for anyone else, so maybe you could keep this between us?” I nodded my head in agreement. “You never were the type to brag,” he mumbled.

I couldn’t stop staring at the bracelet. It was so understated, with polished stones that weren’t quite gems. I reached out and ran a finger over one of the oval-shaped beads, and Maxon wiggled the bracelet in his hand, which made me laugh.

“Do you want me to put it on?” he offered.

I nodded and stretched out the wrist that didn’t have Aspen’s button on it. Maxon placed the cool stones against my skin and tied the little ribbon that held them together.

“Lovely,” he said.

And there it was, pushing up through all the worries: hope.

It lifted the heavy parts of my heart and made me miss him. I wanted to erase everything since Halloween, go back to that night, and hold on to those two people on the dance floor. And then, at the same time, it made my heart plummet. If we were back at Halloween, I wouldn’t have a reason to doubt this gift.

Even if I let myself be everything my father said I was, everything Aspen said I wasn’t … I couldn’t be Kriss. Kriss was better.

I was so tired and stressed and confused, I started crying.

“America?” he asked hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” he asked quietly. I mentally noted that he was doing much better around crying girls these days.

“You,” I admitted. “I’m just really confused about you right now.” I wiped away a tear on one side of my face, and, so gently, Maxon’s hand moved to wipe the tears on the other.

In a way, it was strange to have him touch me like that again. At the same time, it was so familiar that it would have seemed wrong if he hadn’t. Once the tears were gone, he left his hand there, cupping my face.

“America,” he said earnestly, “if you ever want to know anything about me—what matters to me or who I am—all you need to do is ask.”

He looked so sincere that I nearly did ask. I almost begged him to tell me everything: if he’d always considered Kriss, if he knew about the diaries, what it was about this perfect little bracelet that made him think of me.

But how did I know it would be the truth? And—because I was slowly realizing he was the steadier choice—what about Aspen?

“I don’t know if I’m ready to do that yet.”

After a moment of thought, Maxon looked at me. “I understand. I think I do anyway. But we should talk about some serious things very soon. And when you’re ready, I’m here.”

He didn’t press me; instead he stood, giving me a small bow before grabbing his camera and making his way to the door. He looked back at me one last time before disappearing into the hall, and I was surprised by how much I ached to see him go.

CHAPTER 25

“PRIVATE LESSONS?” SILVIA ASKED. “As in, several a week?”

“Absolutely,” I replied.

For the first time since I arrived, I was truly grateful for Silvia. I knew that there was no way she’d be able to resist having someone willing to hang on her every word; and if she was making me do extra work, it meant I could keep myself busy.