The Elite (Selection)

at his home; I wondered whether that made him even more homesick than I was.
    He cleared his throat and went on. “But there are other things that I wasn’t expecting to like, too. I really enjoy the discipline of it and the routine. I like knowing that I’m doing something necessary. I feel so … content. I’ve been restless for years, counting stock or cleaning houses. Now I feel like I’m doing what I was meant to do.”
    “So that’s a big yes? You love it?”
    “Completely.”
    “But you don’t like Maxon. And I know you don’t like the way Illéa is run. We used to talk about it back home, and then that whole thing with the people in the South losing their castes. I know that bothers you, too.”
    He nodded. “I think it’s cruel.”
    “Then how are you okay with protecting it? You fight against rebels to keep the king and Maxon safe. They’re the ones who make everything happen, and you don’t like any of what they do. So how do you love your job?”
    He chewed as he thought. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t make sense, but … okay, like I said, there’s the sense of purpose. And feeling challenged and engaged, the ability to do something more with my life. Maybe Illéa isn’t perfect. In fact, it’s far from it. But I have … I have hope,” he said simply.
    We were both quiet for a moment while the word washed over us.
    “I have this feeling that things have gotten better than they were, though I honestly don’t know enough about our history to prove that. And I have this feeling that things will get even better in the future. I think that there are possibilities.
    “And maybe this is silly, but it’s my country. I get that it’s broken, but that doesn’t mean these anarchists can just come and take it. It’s still mine. Does that sound crazy?”
    I nibbled my bread and reflected on Aspen’s words. They took me back to our tree house and all the times I would ask him questions about things. Even if I disagreed, it helped me understand them better. But I didn’t disagree on this point. In fact, it helped me see what was probably hiding in my heart all this time.
    “It doesn’t sound crazy at all. It sounds completely reasonable.”
    “Does that help with whatever you’ve been thinking about?”
    “It does.”
    “Are you going to explain any of it?”
    I smiled up at him. “Not yet.” Though Aspen was smart, and he might have already guessed. The wistful look in his eyes suggested that he probably had.
    He looked away for a moment, running his hand down my arm, finishing by playing with the button bracelet around my wrist. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”
    “A big one.”
    “Sometimes I feel like we’re a knot, too tangled to be taken apart.”
    I nodded. “It’s true. So much of me is tied up in you. I feel kind of lost without you.”
    Aspen pulled me close, running a hand over my temple and down my cheek. “We’ll just have to stay tangled then.”
    He kissed me gently, like, if he pushed too hard, the moment might shatter and we’d lose everything. Maybe he was right. Slowly, he lowered me to the mattress of pillows, holding on to me, tracing curves as he kissed me on and on. It was all so familiar, so safe.
    I ran my fingers through Aspen’s cropped hair, remembering the way it used to fall and tickle my face when he kissed me. I noted his arms around me, so much fuller than they used to be, so much sturdier. Even the way he held me had changed. There was a newfound confidence there, something instilled in him through becoming a Two, becoming a soldier.
    Too soon it was time to leave, and Aspen walked me to the door. He gave me a lingering kiss, making me a little light-headed. “I’ll try to get another note to you soon,” he promised.
    “I’ll be waiting.” I leaned into him, holding on to him for one long moment. Then, to keep us safe, I left.
    My maids prepped me for bed, and I went through it in a daze. It used to feel like the Selection was one choice: Maxon or Aspen. And as if that was some decision my heart could make simply, it grew into so many more things. Was I a Five or a Three? When this was over, would I be a Two or a One? Would I live out my days as an officer’s wife or a king’s? Would I slide quietly into the background in which I’d always been so comfortable or force myself into the spotlight I’d always feared? Could I happily do either? Could I not hate whoever Maxon ended up with if I chose Aspen? Could I not hate