Hey guys! First of all, I'd like to apologize for the extremely long wait. I feel terrible for not updating sooner or at least giving you a heads up. Things have just been crazy with graduation, work, family coming in, etc. Hopefully I will be able to update regularly now that things have calmed down. Anyway, here is the newest chapter!
Her yawn is like a song calling to me. I am instantly am next to her, abandoning the wheel and letting the current take us north towards the palace. Marlee stays in place, giving me a nervous grin and I raise my eyebrows at her. America groans and tosses her head to the side so that her nose is touching Marlee's knee. I fight the urge to laugh.
"Mer? America, dear?" I whisper, taking one of her hands in mine. She doesn't respond. "America, wake up," I say, a bit louder this time. She scrunches her face and lets out a sort of grunt, but it sounds kind of cute, since her voice is so melodic.
"What?" she mumbles, her eyes still closed.
"Ames, it's Maxon. I think you should wake up. We have a sort of, um, surprise?" I laugh, not entirely sure if she knows what's going on.
"I'm tired," she grumbles and I roll my eyes. Marlee grins and shrugs her shoulders.
"Fine, sleep if you want. I just figured you'd want to take a walk with me, you know, test out your new leg-"
I don't get to finish. America's eyes shoot open and she sits up immediately, shocking Marlee. "WHAT?" she gasps, not even noticing me, her eyes locked on her outstretched legs. "Oh my fins," she whispers, placing her hands on her thighs, then pulling them away as if she was shocked. "Are they . . . did I? Oh, Triton!" she squeals, looking from me to Marlee and then back to her legs. She runs her hands up and down them before bending her knees and kicking her feet in the air. She turns to me, bright-eyed and red in the cheeks. "It worked?"
"It worked," I smirk.
In a very un-America-like fashion, she crashes into me, knocking me onto the floor and wrapping her arms around me. She's laughing so loudly I can't help but join. I think I even hear Marlee giggling. America presses herself against me and I love the feel of her body, her entire, human body, next to mine. She kisses me and I take her in, rolling us over so that she's now on the floor.
Marlee coughs. I laugh and pull away, realizing how awkward this must be for her. America sits up but looks at her legs confusedly, as if she doesn't know what to do with them while she's sitting. "How about you point me in the right direction and I'll steer?" Marlee suggests. "That way you two can . . . catch up," she says, winking.
"Oh, yeah, um," I say, collecting myself. I quickly teach her how to work the boat and tell her where to go. She's a surprisingly fast learner, and in just minutes we're traveling fast. I join America on the ground, who's leaning against the wall, experimenting with her toes. Her pinky toe wiggles and she grins.
"So," I start, placing a gentle hand on her thigh. She shivers at the touch, but I can tell she likes it. It's something she's never felt before, not with her tail . . .
"So," she smiles, placing a hand over hers. "I guess this means we did it."
I wish I could just say "yes" and make her smile. I wish this could be our happily ever after. But the fact is, we're only halfway there. There's still the Selection and my parents and the entire country . . . we have to figure out a way to actually make this work.
She reads the look on my face and nods slowly. "I know we've still got a long way to go, but at least this means that, no matter what, we'll still be able to see each other, right? We won't have any secret meanings or species barriers," she laughs. "Even if . . even if you have to marry one of the Selected-"
I don't let her finish. It's too painful to think about. "No, don't say that, Mer. I could never marry one of them. I'm going to marry you."
"But how?"
"I don't know," I admit. "But we'll find a way, my dear."
"Maxon! What took you so long! It's nearly time for dinner and you haven't even dressed-" my mother starts when she sees me enter the palace. But she stops when she notices I'm not just with Marlee, but that America's trailing behind. She can't walk very well yet, but she's standing straight enough that nothing looks out of the ordinary. Hopefully my mother won't study her too long. "Who's this?"
"This is my cousin, America," Marlee says, bowing to my mother. "I'm sorry to bring her into your home without your consent, but she was in such a terrible situation that I had nothing else to do." Marlee's quite a good actress; the desperation on her face is very convincing.
"What do you mean?" Mom says, giving me a quizzical look.
"America's family was just in a terrible accident," I explain, placing a gentle arm on my mother's shoulder. "They were all killed, leaving America alone." A look of grief passes over my mother's face as she turns to look at America, who is standing uncomfortably, looking at the ground in a shy manor.
"What about Marlee's family? Why can't they take her in?" Mom questions, narrowing her eyes.
"They're too far away, Your Majesty," Marlee cuts in. "I'm from Kent, and America and her family live here in Angeles."
"And what about her home?"
"Destroyed," I blurt out. "In the fire. That's what the accident was . . . a fire," I lie, realizing we hadn't planned this through completely.
"Poor dear," Mom says, giving a soft smile to America, though I can tell she knows we're lying. Still, she pretends she's gullible and says: "Lady Marlee, why don't you show America where the girls are staying? There are plenty of extra rooms to spare. Help get her settled in, maybe lend her some clothes. Dinner is in 30 minutes and she's welcome to join."
Marlee curtseys and America does (or attempts to do) the same. She wobbles on her unstable legs but Marlee briskly walks next to her and links her arm through America's, steadying her. "Thank you, Your Majesty," Marlee says before walking away, leading America down the hallway. I realize she'll have to drag her up the stairs but maybe it will be good practice for Mer.
"Thank you, Mother. Lady Marlee greatly appreciates it. Her cousin is very dear to her," I say, trying to keep up the façade.
"No need to thank me, Maxon. Just make sure you're a bit more sure of this story when you talk to your father," she says before walking away, leaving me standing alone, confused.
My mother knows I'm lying - it was obvious she could tell. And yet, she didn't bother to ask for the truth, didn't even bother to ask why I needed to lie. She just accepted it, sensed that it was necessary, and moved on.
I take a deep breath, still utterly unsure of what just happened, and head to my room to change for dinner.