Hey so this is the next chapter! I recently had a friend read the selection (per my request a.k.a constant nagging) and she is obsessed! We talked about it all of yesterday and I was just instantly inspired to write the next chapter. Now, I don't remember if Kriss's parents are mentioned (I know her father is a professor and they are both 3s) but if her mother was mentioned, just ignore her for the sack of the chapter. As always, please read and write a review (they really help me out and make me want to update faster), or favorite and follow it if you feel the need. (and if the mother is that big of a deal, I can edit it and rewrite). Enjoy!

I had gotten my card last, apparently. Last but not least, my maids reminded me, but somehow that didn't make me feel any better. It's like I was just an afterthought, like "Oh, there were three, wait, what's the last girl's name? Oh, yeah, America. Can't forget that loser."

Maxon had not talked to me since Kriss caught us earlier this morning. I was embarrassed, devastated, confused; I didn't know what to think about the whole situation. Kriss had not come back to her room either so I hadn't apologized, yet.

I felt awful. Even though, I did not regret practically making out with Maxon, because who could regret that— I did feel awful for how she found out. I had been in her shoes, and I know how terrible that was. My heart dropped to my shoes, and I didn't think that I could ever forgive him. Fortunately, everything worked out.

But Poor Kriss.

My maids had just finished laying out my clothes for tonight when I told them that they could leave. I was having a migraine and having to make conversation with them would just make me feel worse.

It was ten minutes after they left when I heard sharp footsteps coming down the hall. It had to be Kriss. Ignoring my headache, I ran to the door and into the hall just before she reached her room.

She was not in the mood to see me.

"Kriss, can I talk to you for a second?"

"You don't have to, Maxon explained everything to me after you left." He voice was cold; I didn't think that her voice could ever be that menacing. She looked at me like I was dead, and maybe to her, I was. I understand. I had betrayed her trust, and to her, was caught kissing the love of her life.

"What did he say?" I tried to sound empathetic, I did, but maybe, just maybe, my question came out more inquisitive towards Maxon than Kriss.

She really didn't want to answer me, I could tell, but the soft, sweet side of Kriss couldn't stop the words from coming out. "He apologized, of course, and said that it meant nothing. I forgave him. "

Ouch, she knew how to play. The only person who I considered manipulative in this competition was Celeste, but Kriss had never come close to that thought. She was too nice. Maybe that was her edge, maybe that was the way she got people to trust her? Act nice, but play the game like a pro. I completely underestimated her. How could I have done that?

"That's good that you forgave Maxon. He didn't do anything wrong and you shouldn't be so mad at him." I chose my words carefully and they felt like bile in my mouth.

"You're right. But, just so you know, I'm still mad at you."

I saw it coming, but that still felt like a punch to the gut. "I get it, I do. But, Kriss, this is a competition, you can't take it so seriously."

"You're not serious about this? One of the three of us will be married to Maxon, quite soon. And I don't think this is a game. No, America, not at all. My heart is on the line. More importantly, Maxon's heart is on the line. We are responsible for the future of this country, Miss America, and if you do not believe that this is completely serious than why are you here? Why?" she repeated. "Because you are helping out your family? Trying to appease the public? Why is it you are here, America, if you are not taking this seriously?"

"I am here for Maxon. Not for the crown—is that why you're here?"

Her eyes rolled around in their sockets and I started to sense the fear of god. I wasn't raised with any sort of religious background but I was praying to anything that would listen to help me out. The sweeter they are, the more of fury they have when thwarted. Nostrils flaring, eyes fixed on me as if they could kill me with just one blink, lips snarling. She looked ready to pounce.

The tables have turned. I was the squirrel and she was the rabid dog.

"You bitch. You have been the clear favorite this entire time and when one of us—me—finally stands a chance to win his heart, you accuse me of only staying here for the crown. You have no idea what kind of life I have had, or what I look for in my future, so I'll give you a little clue. I watched my mother die from a stab wound when I was seven. There was a robber in our house and my brave mother caught him. He spooked and attacked her. My father and I were gone but we arrived just in time to see her lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood, dying. I might have been a three, but like I've told you before, America, I have had plenty of suffering. I don't need to explain myself to you, especially since I am not in the wrong, here. My heart belongs to Maxon, he is mine and I am his, and it won't take him long to realize that. I am, in no way, here for the crown. I am head-over-heels in love with Maxon. Despite what I have gone through, not only from my past, but during this competition, I understand what I want in life: Maxon. Not the crown." She paused to steady herself. Her hands had ben so emphatically expressing themselves that they were still high in the air when she finished. They dropped. She brushed off the wrinkles of her dress and took a deep breath. I could almost see fire spewing out of her nostrils. "Finally, in case, you didn't already realize it, we are no longer friends in this competition. We can be cordial, smile nice for the cameras, but when they go away, so do the niceties. You betrayed my trust and you can't regain it. Now, excuse me, America, but I have to get ready to meet with the Queen." She didn't even allow me a second to explain myself, to apologize for what she saw. But, as all of my friendships seemed to do; this one had run its course. I didn't feel happy or sad about it, I understood. I felt numb. It was bound to happen, and with only three of us left, it was bound to happen soon. I just did not expect this soon.

But, as Elise had mentioned earlier, before she was kicked out, we were competitors. I was so sure of the way Maxon felt about me, or at least I tried to be, that the other girls didn't seem to even come into the equation. When I was with him, all that mattered was he and I.

She walked into her room with the regality of a queen, as I stood in the hall, wordless, the five I've always been. However, I would get past this, like I always had. I was strong, a fighter—I was named America, after all. I did not need women like her in my life, women who would turn their backs on me at the flip of a coin.

I walked back to my room, yearning to keep a clear head for tonight. Kriss wouldn't ruin this for me.

She wanted a competition? She was going to get one.