Hi all!
New Year's chapter! I seriously hope this lived up to your expectations.
And thank you soooo much for reviewing everybody! It makes my day!
***Clarkson is not portrayed like the one we know in The Selection. (at least not yet, I'm still deciding)***
I'm not finished with Maxon's POV, so you'll have to wait a bit. But this chapter's 3k+ words! The longest I've ever written for anything! (6 pages+)
*Maxon's POV will be updated in this chapter
Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: all Selection rights belong to Kiera Cass
"Kitten, are you ready?" I heard dad say from the living room.
"Almost," I said, fumbling with the snowflake earring.
The sweat on my hands made my fingers slip. My heart was beating fast and my stomach was dropping. Why was I so nervous? It was only New Year's Eve Dinner with the Schreaves.
Maxon's parents said they missed mine, so they took perfect opportunity of tonight.
I sighed.
Thoughts were flooding through my mind. If Maxon hadn't come to the same high school as me, would he still remember me? Would I still remember him? Would we have even been able to meet each other again?
I shook my head, trying to clear it, but I could only hear it pounding furiously as I nervously fumbled with the clasp of the necklace.
I took a look in the mirror. The simple black dress pinched in at my waist and flowed until my mid-thigh. It was the most expensive dress that I owned, but it was worth it because it was beautiful. I took a breath.
"Okay," I tried to say, but nothing came out. "I'm ready," I said louder.
I stepped out of my room and saw May bouncing around.
"Oooh, you look so pretty!" she said.
I rolled my eyes and said, "You're even more beautiful."
She really was. She shone inside and out. Her beaming personality, floral white dress, and flowing red hair made her seem and look like an angel.
"Oh, hush. You both look lovely," mom said, turning into the hall. "Now, hurry up before we're late."
The one minute drive was really unnecessary, but it was better than having a group of shivering people showing up at a rich family's house.
"Remember to be nice," mom told us, specifically looking at May and my younger brother, Gerad, as we pulled up into the driveway.
I fiddled with my fingers. This place was grander than I had remembered, with small warm lights on the driveway leading up to the front door, and a little garden off to the side, pine trees with snow dusted atop them, decorating the outside like a winter wonderland.
This house was smaller than Celeste's place, but seemed more luxurious than it. I thought back to that night. After we got here, Maxon explained that he would never ask me to go to a party again. Ever. I cried for a long time, wondering what if? But after I calmed down, he told me he mischievously got Celeste to trust him even more, just by talking to her. That girl was very hard to figure out. She wanted to appear naïve, yet also a wicked mastermind.
I was drawn back to reality when I heard a car door open. I took a deep breath and opened mine. I tried to calm my quickening heart rate as we walked the length of the driveway. Gerad ran up to the door and rang the bell twice. Oh my God, I am so nervous.
There was silence as we waited.
Gerad was about to press it once more when the door swung open, greeting us with the warm, delicious aroma of apple pie.
"Shalom! Magda!" someone's voice boomed enthusiastically. I assumed it was Mr. Schreave, because from what my mom told me, he was very generous and warmhearted. Last time I went to this house, neither of Maxon's parents had been there, so I wouldn't really know it was a servant or someone else; I just had to guess.
Mr. Schreave shook hands with my dad.
"Clarkson!" my dad replied.
"Oh, Clarkson! It's been so long!" mom said, hugging him.
This was all so peculiar. They hadn't seen each other in well over ten years, but it seemed like they were only separated for one month.
"How are you?" Mr. Schreave asked.
Dad nodded and said, "Very well, thank you. And you?"
"Marvelous!" he said. "And are these all your children?"
"Yes," mom said, proudly beaming.
His eyes scanned us, looking first at Gerad, May, then me.
"And is this America?" he asked, stopping at me.
I smiled and nodded, wondering how he knew or even remembered.
"Maxon talks about you all the time," he said. Something in my heart fluttered at the mention of that name. It shouldn't have, though. Everything I had been feeling for Maxon was so complicated and overwhelming; I wasn't sure if I wanted to feel that way.
"I do not," Maxon said, coming down the small landing. I swear his eyes widened when he saw me. It was like he was seeing me for the first time. I couldn't help but feel the same way. I caught myself staring at his messy blond hair flopped as he walked, the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt, and the undone buttons at the top. Something about all that was just so...appealing. Oh my God. I can't be falling for him. I just can't. Wouldn't we just be better off as friends?
"Speak of the devil," Mr. Schreave said.
I laughed nervously.
Before Maxon had a chance to say anything though, I saw Mrs. Schreave hurriedly scurrying to where we were standing, wiping her hands on her apron.
She gasped.
"America Singer. Is that you?" she asked.
I laughed and nodded.
"Oh, it's been so long. You're so grown up and beautiful!" she exclaimed.
She wrapped me in a hug.
"You know, I remember when you and Maxon were in kindergarten. You were so cute together! You know what? I have some pictures I can show you later."
"Mom, I'm sure America doesn't want to spend her New Year's Eve looking at some old photos," Maxon said.
"No. I don't mind," I said with a smile, actually wanting to look at them.
He just smiled and shook his head.
I thought I was in heaven. The dinner was so scrumptious. The grilled chicken and rice were unlike anything I had ever had. Compared to the food, though, the conversations were drab, so I zoned out.
The duration of the meal was the adults talking about boring politics. May kept a conversation going between us kids about school or something like that. I wasn't really paying attention. I was stuck in my own world, wondering how uninteresting life would be if I was an only child like Maxon.
Surely, my parents would be able to focus more on me, right? But, it would also be so lonely. There would be no one to talk to at home or make fun of. There would also be no older brother or sister to look up to, or a younger sibling to be a role model to. Wow. My life would be so... euch.
I suddenly felt a small kick at my foot, and I looked to see Gerad nodding to my plate. My eyes popped out, because lo and behold, it was the one and only strawberry tart. They were quite pricey treats, at least in our eyes, so it was a marvel for me to see one before me.
I picked it up, eager to eat it, but afraid to ruin such beauty of a delicacy. Oh well, it's now or never. I bit into it, and the sweet taste of the tart flooded my mouth. It was perfect. I must have rolled my eyes a bit, because I saw Maxon look at me with a smirk.
I scrunched my nose at him. I mean, these chances to eat strawberry tarts were rare, and this was the most decadent one I had ever had. Ugh. I should have taken the ones from Celeste's house. I remembered those looked as equally delicious. But, she or someone else probably would have put drugs or something in it, because after all, it was a high school party.
Before I knew it, Maxon was already gone from the table, and May said, "Hurry up, Ames!", distracting me from my thoughts. "We're gonna watch reruns of 'Friends'!" she said.
I widened my eyes. "Really?" I said, stuffing the rest of the tart in my mouth. There was no denying that 'Friends' was my favourite show of all time.
She nodded and pulled my hand.
I ran over with her to the living room and plopped down on the plushy couch next to Maxon.
When I was settled in, he said, "You were so quiet during dinner."
I shrugged, ignoring his comment for two reasons. One, I was still eating my strawberry tart, and even though I might not have been born into the best conditions, I still knew my manners. And two, I couldn't just say, 'Oh yeah, I was just thinking about how lonely your life is.'
And thank the Lord I was spared by my brother.
"May! Move over!" Gerad said, as if he suddenly appeared.
"Go sit over there!" my sister said, pointing to a solitary sofa.
Gerad huffed, walked over there, and sat down. I smiled. He was always so obedient.
"I wish I had siblings," Maxon suddenly said.
I chewed and swallowed the remnants of the tart as quickly as I could and said, "Why?"
He frowned like it should've been obvious and said, "Because they seem like so much fun. I remember I used to beg my parents for a younger sibling, but they said they were perfectly content with just me. To this day, it's a mystery I think I'll never solve. Anyway, your brother and sister seem so...energetic and...fun, I guess." He leaned back into the seat. "Don't you also have an older sister or something?" he asked.
I nodded. "And an older brother," I said, slightly regretting what I just said.
He widened his eyes and said, "Five! I forgot your family was so big."
I smiled and nodded again.
Then he said, "Can you tell me about them?"
I don't know why, but I nodded. There was nothing to hide, but it just seemed odd in this type of setting. Nonetheless, I spoke. "Kenna, she's the oldest, moved out three years ago. She lives quite far away now. I miss her a lot, but I'm proud of her. She now has a pretty good pay working as a designer. She and her husband, James, are expecting a child, a girl." I smiled at the pictures that came into my head. Last time she visited us, she had a small, adorable baby bump. It had been four months since then, and I've been waiting for her phone call every day now.
"And then there's Kota," I continued, something cold in my voice. I didn't want to talk about him, but I just shook my head and mumbled, "I don't even know…" I sighed. "He left us for money. He left us when we needed help." I didn't say anything more, because I couldn't. He betrayed us when we were helpless and desperate for food and money to pay the bills. He had some job offering that he couldn't resist turning down, so he took it and forgot about us, his family. He took all the money for himself, not even sparing a single cent for us. We were freezing and starving that cold winter.
I didn't want to think about it anymore.
"Anyway, after that, there's me," I said. He smiled.
"America Singer, my best friend," he said. I rolled my eyes.
"And then there's May," I said, gesturing to her. I saw she was already absorbed in the show that I hadn't even noticed was playing. Not wanting to distract her, I started whispering, "She's like a little ball of energy, and I love her so much. I swear once you get to know her, you're gonna wish you could've met her sooner."
"And lastly, there's Gerad," I said, nodding to the baby of the family. "He is the most perfect little brother anyone could ask for. He's really loyal and trust my word, once he's given a task, he never backs down. He's just so determined."
He nodded understandingly.
"That's all of my siblings for you. Now, don't bother me while I watch," I said jokingly.
"Whatever you say," he replied with the same attitude.
I tried watching the episode, but all I processed were people moving and the faint, distant sounds of doors opening and closing on the TV. I looked at the clock. 10:45. One and a quarter hours to midnight. I could do this. I tried concentrating on the show again, but my mind was just too clustered with thoughts about my family, Maxon, Celeste, the plan. The plan...
I didn't even know how the rest of it was going to work. Maxon just told me to leave it all up to him, to not worry about it.
I gave up trying to understand the episode and the plan, and closed my eyes. I wished things were simpler, that there was no bitchy Celeste. That way, I would be worry free, and prancing around in seventh heaven. But, reality was far from where my dreams were.
A sudden tap on my shoulder made me jump slightly.
"Oh, sorry, my dear," a kind voice said from behind. Oh, that's where Maxon got the 'my dear' from.
I turned around to see Mrs. Schreave standing there with a light blue photo album in her arms.
"It's okay," I said with a smile.
"If it's an inconvenient time, I could come back later," she said.
I shook my head, "No, I wasn't really watching anyway."
She smiled and handed the book to me. "Just put it on the table when you're finished," she said before walking away, back to where the rest of the adults were conversing.
The album was quite heavy, telling me it was filled with many pictures, meaning many memories.
I cautiously opened the cover, like it was a treasure chest filled with secrets. Before lifting the thin sheet of paper that separated the picture from my eyes, I looked next to me and saw that Maxon was looking expectantly between me and the photo.
I smiled and flipped the fragile sheet, revealing an image of both of us laughing our heads off. I have to admit, he was adorable when he was younger. At first, I only focused on the people, but then, something about this picture seemed off. He was in swimming trunks, and I was in a swimsuit. I looked at the background and saw sand and a sea. A beach?
"Do you remember that?" Maxon asked quietly.
I shook my head.
"Do you remember how I said our parents are really close?" he asked.
I nodded. I never really understood why they were. Something about the Schreaves had always made mom and dad so...eager. It was like they worshipped them. I remember when mom cried for days this one week, which I would now guess was because of the Schreaves moving away. Ever since they came back, it's been a puzzle to me why they've affected her so much.
"Well, it was during the last summer before we moved. We got these ten tickets to go to the Caribbean or something like that. Mom told me she won some contest, and this was the really big prize. Anyway, she was going to invite my aunt and her family, but her husband's mother fell ill so she couldn't go. So I guess she asked you guys instead. I don't remember much of that vacation, but what I do recall is that all of us had a great time," he finished with a smile.
I nodded and flipped the page. On the small pictures were us playing with the sand, splashing waves in the sea, sipping mocktails while looking at the sunset. It really looked like we had the life.
That was all way back when we were so young, so free. We didn't have everything blocking us from what we really wanted. What I wanted right now was to have no grudge with Celeste, be an infinitely popular musician, and Maxon. Wait, what? I widened my eyes. Oh my God. No. I tried to remind myself that he was just another guy. They come and go, right?
There was something in my head telling me that liking him would just lead to an endless chain of disasters.
I pretended that nothing had been going on in my head and flipped the page. More pictures of the beach. More pictures of me and Maxon. My mind was going crazy; there was too much happening.
I looked back to him, sitting on the couch. He wasn't looking at the pictures anymore; his eyes were on the show in front of us.
I flipped more and more pages, trying to distract myself. After a great deal of beach photos, they transitioned to ones in the park. We were on the swings, our parents pushing us. In the next few, we were running around with some other kids, presumably playing a game of tag.
The images changed scenes again, moving onto a school. There were a few solo pictures of Maxon in the classroom, with his baby cheeks and brightly adorable brown eyes. So much has changed since then. I forgot what his personality was like back then, but I'm sure that something has changed him from the bubbly, carefree boy in these pictures to the protective young man he is now.
I flipped the page and realized I had gotten to the end of the album. I was disappointed there weren't any more photos. I closed the book and leaned back onto the couch.
I tried to seem interested in the show that was surprisingly still playing. Or maybe it had switched episodes, I don't know.
My mind was too clouded with questions and thoughts. Does he remember what I was like back then? What made our parents so close to one another? Is there some dramatic back story we have to figure out first? Why is Maxon so eager to help me? It's been around four or five months since we've been reunited, and all of a sudden, he wants to protect me. Does he like me? Oh my God, that's so weird. Obviously he doesn't like me. But do I like him? No. I can't. I don't want to.
I felt a tap on my arm and turned to see none other than Maxon.
"Can you come with me?" he whispered.
I looked at him skeptically, then at the clock. 11:55. Wow. Can one hour really go by that quickly? There were only five minutes left until the new year. I frowned and turned back to him. All he did was nod.
This better be good. I set the photo album down and stood up. He waited for me and gave me a small smile. I nodded and followed him as he started walking. After a while, I eventually felt the familiar halls leading to his room. Going to a guy's bedroom at night sounded dangerous, but this was Maxon. He would never do anything like that. Nonetheless, my stomach fluttered with butterflies.
At last, we stood in front of a large set of double doors. He opened the door and I saw a vast bed with a wide mahogany closet next to it. Last time I was here, I didn't get to admire how grand his room was.
To my right, there was a collage of pictures. I looked at it in admiration. It was stunning. I knew Maxon loved taking pictures, but I didn't know his passion was this strong. I walked over to it, and saw pictures upon pictures of his house, the gardens, and us. There were also some of people from his old prestigious private schools. But what stood out most was that there were so many pictures of me, Marlee, Carter, and him together.
I touched the polaroid of all of us outside the school. There were no words to describe how amazed I felt. I wished I could also do this, print snapshots of my life and look at them whenever I wanted to.
"There's something I want to give you," he suddenly said.
I turned around, away from the wall, and watched as he took a flat rectangular box off his nightstand and walked over to me.
He mumbled something unintelligible and took a deep breath.
He opened the box and I gasped. Oh. My. God. Maxon… This was better than good. This was marvelous. On the black velvet lay a necklace with a water blue crystal. It was breathtaking.
"It's a late Christmas present," he said.
It was too beautiful. It must have been expensive. "Maxon… I can't have this," I said.
He shook his head. "Please, you should."
I took one look at him. He was just so caring, kind, and thoughtful. Accepting this would be the least I could do.
"Okay," I said, my voice shaky. I watched him take it out of the box, the silver of the chain gleaming into my eye, the jewel glimmering. I swept my hair to the side nervously and undid the clasp of the necklace I was wearing. When it was off, I toyed with the charm in between my fingers. I felt his shaky hands brush against my neck, and I got unexpected shivers.
He finished and walked me to his full length mirror, his hands hovering around my arms. I looked at my reflection, and my breath caught in my throat. For the first time ever, I thought I looked pretty. But even more than that, I felt pretty, because he made me feel like I was shining. It was like a piece of my heart had been filled, but I was so afraid of this feeling.
He smiled when he saw the girl in the mirror.
"Thank you, Maxon," I whispered.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the grandfather clock rung, announcing the arrival of the new year.
The mood instantly changed. This new feeling was so scary, yet so magical, so enchanting. I had never expected any of this to happen. I never thought that I would feel so relaxed and happy with Maxon here.
I couldn't lose this moment. I wondered if he could hear my heart beating loud and fast. I took a deep breath and turned to him. Was this really happening?
I felt like I was on cloud nine. This euphoric state I was in was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I raised my head to his so we were nose-to-nose. I counted the eleventh ring of the clock.
He held my waist gently and cupped my cheek, closing the gap between our lips, just as the twelfth bell rung. I felt like there were fireworks bursting in my heart. This feeling of endearment was overwhelming. But the sweetness was more wonderful than anything I had ever experienced. I felt like a princess who get swept up in her knight in shining armour's arms. In this moment, I wondered if it could actually be possible, Maxon and I. He pulled back and I melted just looking into his chocolate brown eyes, warmth flooding through my body. He pulled me closer, smiled, and whispered, "Happy New Year, my dear."
I really hope you enjoyed!
Please, please, please tell me what you think. Did you like their kiss?
Anyway, have a Happy New Year!
Bye!
Hi! I'm so sorry for the delay! D:
And I'm just putting this as a separate chapter.
Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: all Selection rights belong to Kiera Cass
I paced back and forth in my room, nervously awaiting the Singers' arrival. I stopped in front of the mirror. Did I really need the tie? It was only a dinner with family friends. But America would be there.
America. Not even one week ago, the Queen Bee Celeste invited me to that trashy party, and I brought America along. That was the biggest regret of my life. She was too dear and wonderful for me to lose. The plan for the party didn't work, as I lost her in the crowd immediately after we went in. However, I did find Celeste and discovered she had a particular fondness for me. I managed to get her to leak that she and America had been in the same elementary school ever since first grade. I wondered if she had always been that tyrannical towards her.
I took a deep breath. I decided the tie was really unnecessary, so I removed it and lay it on my bed. I walked back to the mirror and looked at myself. What was she doing to me? No girl had ever had such an impactful effect on me. The other girls from my former private school were either too conservative or too wild. But America, she seemed like a perfect mix of those two. However, I felt like it was imperative that I protect her more than anyone else, with what Celeste has done to her. The wicked girl had made my best friend to be vulnerable and scared. I hated to see her that way.
Sometimes, I wondered what America and I were. We were friends, but it seemed a little more than that; just a pinch, though. But her behaviour towards me was always changing, making it difficult to know whether or not she felt the same as I did.
But, she did kiss me on Christmas. Even if it was on the cheek, it was the best present I had ever received. That was enough for that small spark of hope. I just hoped that the little flame wouldn't dwindle and extinguish.
"Maxon!" father said from downstairs.
"Yes, father?" I asked, peeking at the necklace one last time before closing the case and stepping out of my room.
"Are you all set?" he asked as I came down the stairs.
I think I nodded.
"Good," he said. "If you need me, I'll be in my study until they arrive."
I nodded again.
I watched as he stepped inside the office and closed the glass panelled door.
My parents were always so busy that I sometimes wondered if they had time for anything other than work. Besides holidays, I haven't seen them have any time off. My father worked as a very high ranking official in the government, but he hadn't really said anything else about his job. According to him, the information was all confidential.
My mother, on the other hand, ran many charity events and fundraisers. She was all about helping people.
"Maxon, honey!" mom called from the kitchen.
I unstuck myself from my cemented position and jogged to her. Mmm… Something smelled good.
She was stirring something in a pot.
"Yes, mom?" I asked, kissing her cheek.
She smiled and asked, "Do you think the Singers would like apple pie or strawberry tart?"
I shrugged and said, "I guess both. I think we'd just have to ask them. But I know for a fact that America would like the strawberry tart."
"Oh, there you go talking about her again. She's definitely changed you for the better," she said.
I rolled my eyes. I switched the topic and said, "Why are you even fretting about what they want to eat, mom?"
She shook her head, smiled, and said, "Don't worry about it, darling."
Someday I would figure this out.
The doorbell rung twice, alarming me. My heart began to beat faster. The bell's echo ran through the house, making this anticipation even worse.
Mom's gentle touch came to my arm, and she said, "I'll be there in just a moment. You go ahead."
I nodded as I heard the door open.
I heard people coming in. I took a deep breath, calming myself. But how could I when America was here? Oh, that girl was messing with my head.
I walked toward the foyer and saw dad talking to her.
I heard him say, "Maxon talks about you all the time."
I smiled to myself and said out loud, "I do not."
Father turned around, giving me a clear view of America. My eyes popped out. She was so stunning and beautiful. Her red hair fell into waves, just like a waterfall, beneath her hood. Her blue eyes pierced my gaze, and I felt bewitched by the icy beauty of them. Her rosy cheeks from the cold made her look like a porcelain doll. But maybe she was one, because I knew she was too precious to break.
I must have been staring for too long, but thankfully, mom swept into the scene and saved me.
She gasped and moved to America.
"America Singer. Is that you?" she asked.
America laughed and nodded.
"Oh, it's been so long. You're so grown up and beautiful!" she beamed. I hadn't realized that she also missed or even remembered America, but with my constant chittering, she probably freshened up her memories.
Mom enveloped her arms around America, as if she was her daughter. I couldn't help but imagine if she was to become mom's daughter-in-law. Oh, what was I thinking? I shouldn't get ahead of myself. She probably wouldn't even accept that necklace I searched through five stores for.
Mom said, "You know, I remember when you and Maxon were in kindergarten. You were so cute together! You know what? I have some pictures I can show you later."
I internally groaned. She always had a knack for embarrassing me. "Mom, I'm sure America doesn't want to spend her New Year's Eve looking at some old photos."
To my surprise, America smiled and said, "No. I don't mind."
I shook my head and tried to hide my smile. The smile of hope.
"So, Maxon, can you describe school in one word for me?" May asked. May. America Singer's fourteen year old sister. She was as charismatic as a five year old, but as witty as an adult genius.
"Torturous," I said with a smile. She laughed, and Gerad did too. Gerad. America's fourth grade younger brother.
May cleared her throat and used her fork as a fake microphone and, like a reporter, said, "Gerad, can you explain school in one word?"
"The most disgusting thing on earth," he said.
"One word," May said, tutting him and giving him a fakely disappointed look.
"Okay," he said. He pretended to throw up, and earned a genuine disappointed glance, but this time from his mother.
He shied away, and May rolled her eyes at him.
She cleared her throat once more and said, "America, tell me one thing you actually like about school."
We all looked at America, expecting her to give an answer, but all she did was stare at her plate and move the food around.
Gerad, who was sitting beside her, tapped her.
She didn't respond. She was stuck in her own little world, the one where thoughts crowded her mind. I had seen this happen many times during lunch. We would be in a conversation, but America would be lost in her thoughts. The best way out was to just let time take over. Eventually, she would have nothing to think about.
Gerad shrugged, and May said, "Moving on… Is high school hard, Maxon?"
Wow. That was vague.
"Depends," I said.
"On what?" she asked.
"A lot of things. If you're striving for popularity or good grades or maybe clubs and things like that," I said. That was the most terrible explanation I had ever given.
She nodded in understanding. There was a bit of awkward silence as we ate our food.
"Hey, do you want to watch something on TV later?" I asked them.
Gerad immediately popped up and said, "Yes!"
May followed suit and nodded in agreement.
I laughed and asked, "Do you want to watch Friends?"
May widened her eyes and said, "Are you kidding me? Yes, yes, yes!"
She started gushing about all her favourite characters and how she wished she could meet them all.
Before long, dessert was served. I got myself a plate of apple pie, whilst I put a strawberry tart on a plate for America. I pushed it in front of her, but she was still lost in thought. Wow, how long can one possibly think for?
She finally picked it up when Gerad gave some unbeknownst signal. She looked at it, seemingly inspecting it, and finally bit into it. Her eyes rolled up in delight, and I smirked. When she caught my gaze, she scrunched her nose at me.
I shook my head and brought my dessert over to the living room, excusing myself first. I set up the show.
Soon after, America, with her mouth full of tart, finally came to join us, in her tow, a bouncing May.
"You were so quiet during dinner," I stated my observation.
She sat down next to me and merely shrugged.
"May! Move over!" Gerad's little voice squeaked out.
May snuggled closer to America and said, "Go sit over there!", pointing to a lone seat at the end of the coffee table.
He breathed out angrily, but plopped onto the sofa nonetheless.
I turned to America and said, "I wish I had siblings."
She covered her mouth, chewed the rest of the tart as quickly as she could and said, "Why?"
Wasn't it obvious? Apparently to her, it wasn't, so I said, "Because they seem like so much fun. I remember I used to beg my parents for a younger sibling, but they said they were perfectly content with just me. To this day, it's a mystery I think I'll never solve." Correct that. It's a puzzle I think I'll never complete. I've asked mom once, but she clammed up, telling me to not bother about it. And when I tried to ask father, he got furious. But once or twice, I looked for clues. About two years ago, I found an ultrasound tucked away in a box at the back of their closet after doing some snooping. And it wasn't mine. It was labeled, 'Desiree'. I researched what that name meant after, and I found out it meant, 'the one desired'. I guessed mom and dad didn't get their wanted baby after all. But, I couldn't jump to conclusions. There were so many factors that should be considered. "Anyway, your brother and sister seem so...energetic and...fun, I guess." I leaned into my seat. "Don't you also have an older sister or something?" I asked, digging through my memories.
She nodded and said, "And an older brother." Something in her tone suggested secrecy.
So, her sister, her brother, her, May, and Gerad. That was five. I widened his eyes and said, "Five! I forgot your family was so big."
She smiled at my bewilderment.
I hesitated before saying, "Can you tell me about them?", not sure if she wanted to share.
Despite my thoughts, she didn't object. She tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear and said, "Kenna, she's the oldest, moved out three years ago. She lives quite far away now. I miss her a lot, but I'm proud of her. She now has a pretty good pay working as a designer. She and her husband, James, are expecting a child, a girl.
"And then there's Kota," she said, a cold tone lacing into her usually warm, melodious voice. She shook her head and mumbled something unintelligible and sighed. "He left us for money. He left us when we needed help." She didn't say anything more. I didn't urge her to, because I didn't want to push her.
She was silent for a while, looking down, and tracing patterns onto her jeans.
She shook her head again and said, "Anyway, after that, there's me."
I smiled and said, "America Singer, my best friend." She rolled her eyes playfully.
I was hoping she would elaborate, but she moved on, "And then there's May," pointing to her sister.
I couldn't help but notice the resemblance between the two. Both with beautiful red hair and shining blue eyes, but America's were more conserved and relaxed, whereas May had a mischievous glint to them. "She's like a little ball of energy, and I love her so much. I swear once you get to know her, you're gonna wish you could've met her sooner," she said.
"And lastly, there's Gerad," she said, nodding her head to her brother, "he is the most perfect little brother anyone could ask for. He's really loyal and trust my word, once he's given a task, he never backs down. He's just so determined."
I nodded. Was this what I was missing my whole life? This special bond that could never be broken?
"That's all of my siblings for you," she said. She grinned and jokingly said, "Now, don't bother me while I watch."
I smiled and said, "Whatever you say."
I folded my hands over my stomach and thought. Just thought.
What had made me like her? I don't know what it was, but something about her just drew me in, made me want to try. I don't even know if she would like me back. But could she? Would she even accept my necklace?
America suddenly jumped up a bit.
"Oh, sorry, my dear," mom said from behind the couch.
America smiled and said, "It's okay."
"If it's an inconvenient time, I could come back later," she said.
America shook her head and said, "No, I wasn't really watching anyway." I guess she was as lost in thought as I was.
Mom smiled and gave a photo album to America. "Just put it on the table when you're finished." I watched her walk confidently back to the kitchen. Sometimes, I wondered how mom could be so strong, especially after her miscarriage. But, maybe it was something that was just made up in my mind. Maybe it wasn't real.
America held the album lightly in her hands.
She opened the cover delicately and looked at me. I smiled reassuringly. She smiled and gingerly peeled the thin layer of paper from the first photo.
That first photo…
It was a snapshot of the two of us at the beach sitting on a towel. Hair soaking, smiles wide, cheeks chubby. Before everything in my life turned confusing. Before I had to move so far away from her and all the memories.
Her brows knit together in confusion as she studied the picture.
"Do you remember that?" I asked quietly.
She shook her head.
I asked her, "Do you remember how I said our parents are really close?"
She nodded puzzledly. Something about that made me think she didn't know why they were. To me, it was also sort of another mystery, but this time, I had no clues. When we moved away, my father kept on consoling my mother, saying that they would be fine without us.
I said, "Well, it was during the last summer before we moved. We got these ten tickets to go to the Caribbean or something like that. Mom told me she won some contest, and this was the really big prize. Anyway, she was going to invite my aunt and her family, but her husband's mother fell ill so she couldn't go. So I guess she asked you guys instead. I don't remember much of that vacation, but what I do recall is that all of us had a great time." I smiled at the end. She didn't know. She didn't know that was the summer I-
She nodded and flipped the page, distracting me. More photos. More memories.
I stopped looking at them because they were so painful. They were the some of the last pictures we had together before we moved away so I could go that prestigious private school, all the way on the other side of the country, he wanted me to go to.
Back then, we were so carefree, running around and laughing without an ounce of worry. But now, everywhere she went, I was scared for America. She was so vulnerable in such a big world. I wanted to protect her, save her, from anything that could hurt her even just one bit. I had already seen the damage Celeste and that guy have done to her, and it made me sick.
Ever since the party, I keep on thinking that it is my sole priority to help her. If something had happened to her, it would have been all my fault, and I would never be able to live with myself then.
Would she be able to defend herself if she was all alone?
I shook my head. Then, my stomach turned to a butterfly haven as I remembered it. The necklace. She liked the colour blue, right? What if she didn't like the necklace? What if she didn't accept it? What if she thought...never mind.
It was 11:55. I took a breath. Now or never.
I tapped her on the shoulder apprehensively.
My heart was beating like a beast had ravaged it. "Can you come with me?" I whispered.
She looked at me suspiciously, then at the clock, and finally back at me. All I did was nod.
She caved and put the album on the coffee table. I stood up and almost held out my hand for her, but decided against it. It wasn't like I was some prince or whatever. Instead, I cast her a smile. She still looked skeptical, but followed me nonetheless.
After a series of twists and turns, we stood in front of my bedroom doors. I was nervous. I don't have to do it. But we were already here.
I pulled down on the handle and pushed the door open. I swear I heard America gasp from amazement. Last time she was here, she probably didn't notice anything because she was so shaken up by what happened.
Her eyes scanned the room and landed on the photo wall. It was like my past laid out in photographs, strung onto a wall. I liked to go there when I just wanted to revisit some old memories.
She was so engulfed in the images that she didn't sense my movements. I went to my nightstand and looked at the black box.
She touched one of the polaroids delicately, admiring it. I tried to speak, but the words got caught in my throat. My nervousness was killing me.
I opened my mouth and managed to say, "There's something I want to give you."
I watched her turn around, and her beauty managed to stun me yet again.
My heart beat even more, if that was possible. I took the box off the small table and walked over to her.
"I hope you like it," I muttered, taking a deep breath.
I lifted the cover cautiously, not sure how she would react. She gasped when she saw what lay inside the box. The blue crystal necklace.
"It's a late Christmas present," I explained.
She didn't pry her eyes from the necklace and said, "Maxon...I can't have this."
I shook my head and said, "Please, you should."
Her eyes moved to mine. I really wanted her to have this. I guess it was a reminder that I would protect her even if I wasn't present physically. It was a reminder that she could do anything. Without fear.
Her shaky voice said, "Okay."
Trying not to let my hands quiver, I took the present out of box, off to its new owner.
She swept her hair to the side and took off the necklace she was wearing now. She played with it in her hands nervously.
My shaking hands brushed against her neck as I put the necklace on her. Unexpectedly, I got tingles from touching her bare skin.
I put my hands around her arms, unsure of what to do next. Oh, the mirror.
I guided her over to it, and occasionally, my hand would accidentally bump into her arm.
She looked at her reflection, and was amazed. But I was awestruck. She was more than beautiful. With her red hair, pale skin, and blue eyes, she looked porcelain. It might be vain of me to say this, but with the necklace, she looked like a princess. A porcelain princess.
The necklace's presence made her something...more. Her eyes brightened. She gazed at it in wonder. I smiled.
"Thank you, Maxon," she whispered.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the distant, echoing sound of a bell filled the room instead.
Something in the air was different. It was like all of our uncertainties were replaced with something closer. Hope.
My mind went numb, lost in this world. I couldn't think as she turned towards me. And she raised her head to mine, the tips of our noses touching. Did she like me? Surely, she had to if she was doing this, right?
In this moment, even if just for a split second, I felt like she wasn't just any girl. She was my girl. My porcelain princess. I held her waist ever so delicately, like she would shatter if I held on any tighter. I put my hand around her cheek and lowered my lips to hers. Was this really happening?
The fire burnt slowly in my heart. With each passing second, the warmth grew even more magical. I couldn't be any happier that my very first kiss was with America Singer. I pulled back and looked into her eyes. They were so full of wonder and curiosity. Could she really be mine?
Her small smile was evident, telling me she was content, so I couldn't help it when I pulled her closer to me, gave my own smile, and whispered, "Happy New Year, my dear."
Hope you enjoyed!
Please, please, please, tell me what you think, because I kinda suck at Maxon's POV :l
And is anyone also having trouble seeing their reviews? Or is it just me?
Bye!