The Selection was no longer something that was simply happening to me, but something I was actively a part of. I was an Elite.
Castes never meant that much to me.
He let out a sigh. With my head there against his chest, I could faintly make out the sound of his heart beating through his suit coat. It seemed to be rushing. His hand, gentle as ever, reached to cup my cheek. As I looked into his eyes, I felt that...
Because even though you're dating five other women, I think I'm cheating on you.
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?
If this were a simpler matter, I'd have eliminated everyone else by now. I know how I feel about you. Maybe it's impulsive of me to think I could be so sure, but I'm certain I would be happy with you.
I can’t help it." I sighed. "One can never help being born into perfection.
- 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.
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.
No wonder I’d never had any friends. I was shockingly bad at it.
She couldn’t have been more than twelve years old. In her hands was a sign that said RED-HEADS RULE! with a little crown painted in the corner and tiny stars everywhere. I knew I was the only redhead in the competition, and I noticed that her hair ...
He reached up and tugged his ear. And I did the same.
I let myself be sad. I let myself think of him.
The Swendish queen— whose name I couldn’t pronounce to save my life.
Great. Now the queen thought I was a misfit, too.
So here I was expecting at the very best a cordial welcome from the girls who were prepared to fight me to the death for someone I didn’t want. Instead I was embraced.
Yeah, Mom, I’ll just keep telling the prince that he has absolutely no shot with me and offend him as often as I can. Great plan.
He wasn’t allowed to come with me there—my own rule for this little adventure. No more. Good-bye, Aspen.
