Did you get to choose any classes this year? - at my school we get to choose all of our classes for senior year so long as they meet specific criteria. I guess last year I was feeling suicidal and decided to take AP English 12 and AP Psychology which are two of the hardest classes my school has. they haven't been that bad and my best grades are actually in those classes (probably because i care about them the most). i begrudgingly took calculus and I'm really bad at it. which author is ever good at math though? i took physics too which i really like. I'm bad at that too but i love the challenge of it...plus it makes a lot more sense than calc. i took Spanish V which honestly hasn't been as awesome as i hoped it would be. oh well, i still love Spanish and I'm Spanish Club president so i kind of half to like it. other than that i have a dry schedule; orchestra, chorus, advanced strength training and gym. that's it. it's a tough schedule this year which is actually kind of a good thing because it prevents me from getting senioritis. anyway, now that I've written a book to answer your question...haha...

Cupcakes or cakes? - CUPCAKES ALL THE WAY! I like to think of myself as a cupcake connoisseur. haha.

What's your favorite snack? - Broccoli or kettle corn. the broccoli isn't me trying to sound like some stuck-up health freak like my friends think I am when I say that. I truly do love broccoli. I eat probably two heads of broccoli (and one bottle of ranch dressing...whoops) in a week.

How old is Christian supposed to be? - Two to two and a half. I honestly have been too lazy to do the math.

"Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they need to run free until they find someone just as wild to run with them." - Carrie Bradshaw

He gave her a withering look. "Well, unlike some, I did not want to spill the secrets of the Masons. Aspen is busy doing work back in Dakota." He stared icily at Sawyer's back as the young man guided them to the guest rooms on the second floor. "It seems I am the only one here to value the secret of the brotherhood."

America bit her tongue, not wanting to fight with him just yet. But she knew it was coming; their argument over him being dishonest with her was inevitable. "I made him tell me. Don't get mad at him, get mad at me."

"Oh, I am mad at you. I thought I told you to stay put in Honduragua," Maxon snapped.

They started climbing a large staircase as she answered, "Haven't you learned by now that I never do what you tell me to do? You should know that I am unable to just sit around and do nothing."

He laughed spitefully. "So you decide to put your own life in danger and go on a cross-country adventure to accomplish something I am already working to accomplish?"

"Not quite. You are trying to get our son back; I am trying to get my country back."

"Your country?" he repeated.

Sawyer spun suddenly when he reached the landing of the steps. "No wonder you two hate each other! Did you argue like this when you were married or were actually civil?"

They both frowned. "I don't hate him," she quickly defended.

At the same time, he said, "Nobody said I don't love her."

She blushed and looked away quickly. "We're just not getting along. Every couple has a rough patch. This is ours."

Sawyer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right." He turned and led them down to the end of the hallway where there was a door by itself. "This is Maxon's suite, reserved for him. Both of you are to stay in here." He left them after unlocking the door and opening it for them.

She walked toward the bed where her backpack was waiting. "Someone's brought my stuff up here already. How lovely," she commented, sitting on the settee at the end of the bed.

Maxon stood with his hands on his hips and sighed. Looking between the roaring fire in the fireplace and his wife, he finally said, "I'm going to take a shower." He picked up his own backpack and made his way to the bathroom. She heard the water start running but he came out shortly after, holding the bottle of shampoo waiting for him in the bathroom. "We can't use this." He set it down next to her.

She chuckled. "Why not?" She read over the label and didn't find anything terrible about it.

"It will wash the dye right out of our hair," he reminded her, flicking a blonde curl out of her face.

She passed the shampoo back to him. "Then ask for different shampoo." She collapsed on the bed, effectively ending the conversation.

He went back in the bathroom and didn't come out again for another twenty minutes. She was reading Sam's journal when he perched on the edge of the bed to towel out his hair just like he always did before their lives were ruined. She watched the muscles in his back move and she had the strongest urge to reach out and trace the scars she knew were hiding underneath his soft gray cotton shirt. She quickly snapped her eyes back to the journal.

"What're you reading?" he asked her, his voice muffled by the towel.

She hesitated as a voice in her head screamed God America this is the love of your life, your soul mate! Maxon knows every single thing about you and still loves you hopelessly. Just talk to him. Talk to him like you always talked to him before. The only problem was that she did not know how to go back to that light and easy – borderline flirty – conversation. "Umm…a Mason's journal from 2031," she finally told him honestly.

He turned and looked at it. "Who wrote it?"

"Samuel Snyder." She moved closer to him and passed it to him.

He flipped through and shrugged before giving it back. "That's a very presidential name," he commented, walking back to the bathroom to hang up his towel. He came back and laid down on the bed, both arms behind his head. "So what's up?"

She sighed and put the journal down. "Really, you're going to act nonchalant now?"

"What? I'm just being myself."

"And who is that? Maxon or Dax?" she snapped. He looked away but not too fast for her to catch the hurt that flickered in his eyes. "Sorry, that was harsh."

They were quiet for a few minutes before he said, "I was just trying to protect you. I realize now that it was stupid but at the time…I don't know. You'd had such a hard time accepting me before that I didn't want to tell you about Dax and you not trust me anymore."

"How real are you?" she asked.

"The only difference between myself and Dax is my name. That's it, I promise." He looked genuinely sorry, his eyes a warm golden brown that melted her heart. "So how bad have you been lately?"

She narrowed her gaze on him. "What? I've been an angel."

"Please. You don't find Sawyer Chollier by being an angel. You were doing some digging from people that do not give up information easily." He pulled a pillow from behind his head and started playing with the fringes.

She looked away from him as she said quietly, "I may have killed a man."

He sat up abruptly. "Killed? Like, he's dead?"

"Desperate times…"

"You don't sound that remorseful."

She shrugged. "I don't know. He was being a jerk about everything and I've been more of a fallen angel lately."

He nodded. "Well, if it's any consolation, I've killed a couple people too. But they were soldiers and they deserved it. They also never saw it coming."

"I reminded him of his young granddaughter and then shot him in the face from two feet away," she told him quickly, trying to keep her voice light.

"Can't say I didn't know you had it in you; you've always kind of had that psychopath thing going."

She laughed and swatted at him with a pillow. "Shut up." She laid back against the pillows, her thigh touching his hip. She could feel heat radiating from the spot where they touched. "Have you made any progress with Christian?"

He quickly flipped over on his stomach and picked at one of his nails. "I really don't want to talk about it. I know he's our son but since we're actually getting along right now, I want to take advantage of the opportunity and enjoy it."

There were so many things wrong with their relationship. She hated him almost as much as she loved him but she loved him nonetheless. "Kiss me," she whispered to him, beckoning by reaching her mouth closer to his.

He lifted his chin up, not thinking twice about it, and touched his lips lightly to hers. They kissed gently, pulling away to look at each other every couple seconds. Then it got deeper. His hands tangled in her knotty hair but he quickly pulled away. "I'm really tired of the blonde hair."

She nodded. "Brown doesn't suit you either."

He got up and pulled her up with him by the hand. They walked to the bathroom and abandoned their clothes on the floor as they got in the shower, the water steaming. She grabbed the shampoo and massaged his scalp, watching the brown drip through her fingers like melted chocolate. Then they switched and he ran his hands through her wet hair, getting all of the blonde out.

Somewhere in that time they started to kiss. Next thing America knew she was being carried to the bed by her husband, wrapped warmly in a towel. She smiled as he laid her down and pulled the covers up to her ears, very distinctly remembering him defending himself saying You thought…for heaven's sake. I'm a gentleman! She expected nothing less from him.

She felt the mattress dip as he lay down next to her and folded her into his strong arms. Those arms that once enchanted her and consumed a large part of her thoughts. For a time in her life, she was the only one that got to be held in those arms. Not that she was questioning his loyalty but she wondered if he had contemplated going back to some of the other Selected recently. As jealousy tugged at her heart, she pulled him closer possessively. No, Maxon would always be hers. She would always be Maxon's. It could be no other way.

So i have exciting news...drum roll...I GOT ACCEPTED INTO PENN STATE! like, I've already put my deposit down and everything. I'm pretty stoked and cannot wait until august now! anyway, now that I've celebrated with you guys properly, go ahead and review and send me questions!