The Elite (Selection)

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.
    Thinking about Maxon and Aspen and the diary and the girls was too much right now. Protocol was black-and-white. The steps for proposing a law were orderly. These were things I could master.
    Silvia looked at me, still slightly stunned, before she broke into a huge smile. Embracing me, she cried out, “Oh, this will be wonderful. Finally one of you understands how important this is!” She held me at arm’s length. “When do you want to start?”
    “Now?”
    She was bursting with delight. “Let me go get some books.”
    I dove into her studies, so grateful for the words and facts and statistics she crammed into my head. If I wasn’t with Silvia, I was reading up on something she’d assigned me as