The Elite (Selection)

third floor. Unlike the other floors, guards stood at the landing, preventing me from simply walking to Maxon’s door.
    “I need to speak to the prince,” I said, trying to sound firm.
    “It’s very late, miss,” the one to the left said.
    “Maxon won’t mind,” I promised.
    The one to the right smirked a little. “I don’t think he’d appreciate any company right now, miss.”
    My forehead creased in thought as I played that sentence in my head again.
    He was with another girl.
    I had to assume it was Kriss, sitting there in his room, talking, laughing, or maybe giving up on her no-kissing rule.
    A maid came around the corner with a tray in her hands, passing me as she descended the stairs. I stepped to the side, trying to decide if I should push the guards to let me through anyway or give up. As I went to open my mouth again, the guard cut me off.
    “You need to go back to bed, miss.”
    I wanted to yell at them or do something because I felt so powerless. It wouldn’t help, though, so I left. I heard the one guard—the smirking one—mumble something as I walked away, and that made it worse. Was he making fun of me? Feeling sorry for me? I didn’t need his pity. I was feeling bad enough on my own.
    When I got back to the second floor, I was surprised to see that the maid who had passed me was there, kneeling as if she was adjusting her shoe but clearly doing nothing of the sort. She raised her head as I approached, picking up her tray and walking toward me.
    “He’s not in his room,” she whispered.
    “Who? Maxon?”
    She nodded. “Try downstairs.”
    I smiled, shaking my head in surprise. “Thank you.”
    She shrugged. “He’s not anywhere you couldn’t find him if you looked anyway. Besides,” she said, her eyes full of admiration, “we like you.”
    She moved away, heading down to the first floor very quickly. I wondered exactly who “we” was, but for now, her simple act of kindness was enough. I stood for a moment, leaving some space between the two of us, and headed downstairs.
    The Great Room was open but empty, as was the dining room. I checked the Women’s Room, thinking that would be a funny place to go on a date, but they weren’t there either. I asked the guards by the door, and they assured me that Maxon hadn’t gone into the gardens, so I checked a few of the libraries and parlors before guessing that he and Kriss must have either parted ways or gone back to his room.
    Giving up, I turned a corner and headed for the back stairwell, which was closer than the main one. I didn’t see anything; but as I approached, I heard the distinct hiss of a whisper. I slowed, not wanting to intrude and not completely sure where the sound was coming from.
    Another whisper.
    A flirtatious giggle.
    A warm sigh.
    The sounds focused, and I was certain where they were coming from. I took one more step forward, looked to my left, and saw a couple embracing in the shadows. After the image settled and my eyes adjusted to the light, a shock went through me.
    Maxon’s blond hair was unmistakable, even in the darkness. How many times had I seen it just so in the dim light of the gardens? But what I’d never seen before, never imagined before, was how that hair would look with Celeste’s long fingers, nails painted red, digging into it.
    Maxon was all but pinned to the wall by Celeste’s body. Her free hand was pressed against his chest, and her leg was wrapped around his, the slit of her dress revealing her long leg, tinted slightly blue in the dark of the hall. She pulled back slightly, only to fall back into him slowly, teasing him it seemed.
    I kept waiting for him to tell her to get off him, to tell her she wasn’t what he wanted. But he didn’t. Instead he kissed her. She lavished in it and giggled again at his affection. He whispered something in her ear, and Celeste leaned in and kissed him, deeper, harder than before. The strap of her dress fell off her shoulder, leaving what seemed like miles of exposed skin down her back. Neither of them bothered to fix it.
    I was frozen. I wanted to scream or cry, but my throat felt constricted. Why, of everyone, did it have to be her?
    Celeste’s lips slid off Maxon’s and settled onto his neck. She gave another obnoxious giggle and kissed him once more. Maxon closed his eyes and smiled. With Celeste no longer blocking him, I was in Maxon’s line of sight.
    I meant to run. I meant to disappear, to evaporate. Instead I stood there.
    So when