The Selection
Page 59The party continued on, and Marlee and I mostly crowd-watched. Surprisingly—and suspiciously—Celeste clung to Kriss, talking up a storm as Kriss circled the room, thanking everyone for coming, even though we really had no choice.
Eventually she made it to the back corner where Marlee and I were standing, soaking up the warm sun from the windows. Marlee, true to form, threw her arms around Kriss.
“Happy birthday!” she squealed.
“Thank you!” Kriss replied, returning Marlee’s affection and enthusiasm.
“So you’re nineteen today, right?” Marlee asked.
“Yes. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate. I’m so glad they’re taking pictures. My mother will love this! Even though we do pretty well, we’ve never had money to have something like this. It’s so beautiful!” she gushed.
Kriss was a Three. There weren’t nearly as many limits to her life as mine, but I’d imagine anything close to this scale would be hard to justify.
“It is impressive,” Celeste commented. “For my birthday last year, I had a black and white party. Any trace of color, and you weren’t even allowed in the door.”
“Wow,” Marlee whispered, obvious envy in the tiny word.
“It was fantastic. Gourmet food, dramatic lighting, and the music! Well, we flew in Tessa Tamble. You’ve heard of her?”
It was impossible not to know Tessa Tamble. She had at least a dozen hit songs. Sometimes we saw videos of hers on TV, though that was frowned on by Mom. She thought we were infinitely more talented than anyone like Tessa, and it irked her to no end that she had fame and money when we didn’t for doing essentially the same thing.
“She’s my favorite!” Kriss exclaimed.
Marlee gave me a quick sideways glance. I could tell she was feeling embarrassed for me.
“Oops,” Celeste added, looking at me. “I forgot. I meant no offense.”
The sticky sweetness of her voice was infuriating. Once again I was tempted to hit her.... Better not to push it.
“None taken,” I replied, as composed as I possibly could. “Exactly what do you do as a Two, Celeste? I mean, I’ve never heard your music on the radio.”
“I model,” she answered in a tone that implied I should have known that. “Haven’t you seen my ads?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Oh, well, you are a Five. I guess you can’t afford the magazines anyway.”
It hurt because it was true. May loved to sneak peeks at magazines when we managed to go by a store, but there was absolutely no reason for us to buy them.
Kriss, taking on the role of host again, switched directions.
“You know, America, I’ve been meaning to ask what your focus was as a Five.”
“Music.”
I sighed. “Actually, I brought my violin to play for you today. I thought it would make a nice gift, but you’ve already got a quartet, so I figured—”
“Oh, play for us!” Marlee begged.
“Please, America, it’s my birthday!” Kriss echoed.
“But they’ve already given you a—” It didn’t matter how I protested. Kriss and Marlee had already shushed the quartet and made everyone come to the back of the room. Some girls fanned their dresses out and sat on the floor, while others pulled a few chairs toward the corner. Kriss stood in the middle of the crowd, clutching her hands with excitement, as Celeste stood by, holding the crystal glass she had yet to take a sip from.
As the girls settled themselves, I prepped the violin. The quartet of young men who had been playing walked over to support me, and the few waitstaff who had been buzzing about the room became still.
I took a deep breath and brought the violin to my chin. “For you,” I said, looking at Kriss.
I let the bow hover above the strings for a moment, closed my eyes, and then let the music come.
For a while, there was no wicked Celeste, no Aspen lurking in the palace, no rebels trying to invade. There wasn’t anything but one perfect note stringing itself to the next in such a way they seemed afraid they might get lost in time without one another. But they did hold together, and as they floated on, this gift that was meant to be something for Kriss became something for me.
I might be a Five, but I wasn’t worthless.
I played the song—as familiar as my father’s voice or the smell of my room—for a few brief, beautiful moments, and then let it come to its unavoidable end. I gave the bow one last sweep across the strings and lifted it into the air.
I turned to find Kriss, hoping she’d enjoyed her gift, but I didn’t even see her face. Behind the crowd of girls, Maxon had walked in. He was in a gray suit with a box under his arm for Kriss. The girls were kindly applauding, but I couldn’t register the sound. All I saw was that Maxon wore a handsome, awestruck expression, which slowly turned into a smile, a smile for no one but me.
The other girls all clambered to their feet to greet Maxon. In the midst of this, I heard a shocked squeal.
“Oh, no! Kriss, I’m so sorry.”
A few girls had gasped in the same direction, and as Kriss turned my way I saw why. Her beautiful dress was stained down the front from Celeste’s punch. It looked like Kriss had been stabbed.
“I’m sorry, I just turned too fast. I didn’t mean to, Kriss. Let me help you.” To the average person, Celeste’s tone probably sounded sincere, but I could see through it.
Kriss covered her mouth as she started to cry, then ran from the room, which ended the party. To his credit, Maxon went after her, though I really wished he had stayed.
Celeste was pleading her case to anyone who would listen, saying it was a complete accident. Tuesday was nodding, saying she saw the whole thing, but there were so many rolling eyes and sagging shoulders from the rest that her support was pointless. I quietly put my violin away and went to leave.
Marlee grabbed my arm. “Someone should do something about her.”
If Celeste could move someone as lovely as Anna to violence, or think it was acceptable to try and take the dress off my back, or make someone as good as Marlee come close to anger, then she really was too much for the Selection.
I had to get that girl out of the palace.