Rebecca Ch 5

AU Note: Yay! Double multitasking! I'm at the pointin the school year where everyone's getting sick, including me, and teachers are trying to get a lot of grades in and the students are stressed about getting everything in so they get more sick than they already are, just…ugh. That was a total run on sentence but I'm not changing it.

Anyway, one very smart person asked a very good question and I would like to address it. So Marg, America and Rebecca are going to share the principal role in the story. Although Rebecca doesn't have any dark secrets that America and Maxon she will get pulled into some of their drama as well as causing them drama. You'll see her start to affect palace life as well as the lives of the characters we know and love. Through getting Rebecca's POV we're kind of getting how the people think of America and how they will look at the other girls if they saw all their secrets. America is still a huge part of the story, Rebecca is going to take kind of a Marlee relationship with America, although no one could replace our sweet, misunderstood Marlee.

I hope that kind of helps and if you have any more questions…I'm going to be a teacher for a reason, I love questions.

While I'm on the topic of questions let me answer one of them before it's asked, the words in italics are actually blog posts. Why would they need blogs if they don't have computers? In this world my little world, twos would have laptops and the higher ups would have access to them. The only way the lowers would get a hold of the blogs is if they went to the library and asked to look up something on the librarians computer. But don't you worry dearies, the lowers will find out what's going on in the palace and when they do…let's just say it will have some major repercussions on some of the characters. This will also be the time the palace occupants find out each other's secrets and… EVERYTHING GOES DOWN HILL FROM THERE! MAHAHAHAHA, how do you type an evil laugh?

Without further ado, chapter 5. Enjoy my dears.

I can't tell you how long we sat on that couch talking, but a nearby clock struck five and America freaked out, "We have to go! It's almost time for dinner! Anne's gonna kill me!"

I laughed as she pulled me up onto my feet and ran out the door and down the hall still holding onto my hand. We raced together towards her room, the guards smiling at us, apparently this was pretty normal for them. We raced up twelve stairs and turned the corner and an arm wrapped around America's waist making come to a sudden stop. I skidded to a stop, slightly out of breath to see Prince Maxon holding onto America.

America looked slightly startled, but when she saw that it was him she laughed, "Maxon, I got to go. Silvia's going to kill me if I'm late to dinner again.

He laughed at her, "Who's your friend?"

"Rebecca meet Maxon, Maxon meet Rebecca." She tried to struggle out of his grip, but he held strong. I took a good look at them, red hair and blonde hair, blue eyes and brown, different facial structures, but the same relaxed smile spread across their faces. They were comfortable around eachother, like they had known each other since birth and had been friends until it had grown into something more.

They seemed happy, although it seemed like there was so much more there. They looked like they had told secrets to each other and were still getting used to being able to share with one another. At the same time, there was something holding them back. The journalist in me couldn't wait to figure out what it was.

Unaware of my observations Maxon smiled, "Hi, Rebecca. I'm MAxon"

Boy did I know that, "Really, you know I thought I knew you from somewhere!"

He laughed turning towards America, who had given up on her quest for freedom, and said, "You know who she reminds me of?"

"Me when I first came?"

"Bingo," he touched her nose with his forefinger then seemed to remember something and became very formal, "I'll see you at dinner."

"Okay," she whispered as he let her go.

Then he was gone. We walked the rest of the way to her room in silence, only the sound of her heels clacking were heard. The guards we passed by seemed confused by America's serious and thoughtful face. They were obviously used to her being upright and passionate.

Whatever it was that had torn MAxon away from her, she didn't like it. A guard opened the door for her and she looked up at him. He flashed a goregeous smile at her and she walked in.

Instantly, she was attacked by her maids, who were in such a rush to get her dressed they didn't notice her expression, but I was trained to notice people's body language, I noticed.

A few minutes later she was ready and we walked through the palace again, this time toward the dining hall. She couldn't go into that hall and face the other girls with that sad expression on her face, "Chin up. Storms always run out of rain, and they make the most beautiful flowers. Winds may come and try to blow them away, but the strong always survive."

It was something my mother had always told me when I was down, something I had always held onto when the bullies had come, when my friends were going through hard times.

"What if you're going through a hurricane? What happens to the flower then?"

I thought about it for a while then I said, "Those are the strongest flowers of all, and I can't even begin to describe how gorgeous those flowers are. All the other flowers will look up to that one and say, "I want to be just like that one day. I will be like that, you just watch me." As long as the flower remembers to stay strong during the storm nothing can hurt it."

She smiled at me, the same smile she had when I met her and I sent up a silent prayer up to Mama, wherever she was now.

We entered the dining room and America introduced me to the rest of the girls, or at least two of them. Celeste didn't even look up or acknowledge my exsistance. The other girls smiled at me and I curtsied to them. America told them that I was suppose to help them with anything we needed.

Only then did Celeste look up, "Well then I need her tomorrow."

America looked surprised, "Tommorow's Saturday."

"I still need her, you can't be hogging the Help, America."

Kriss loked at her, "You shouldn't call her part of the Help Celeste. She's a human being, and America doesn't own her just like you or Elise or I do. She owns herself."

"Whatever," she turned towards me, "Be at my room by seven in the morning. No later."

Elise looked at me silently with a look on her face that apologized for their behavior. This job was going to get interesting really fast.

I met the Selected today, if only you all knew! In a couple of weeks Sam, our tech producer, and I will be introducing allllllll the footage and you'll know so much. In the meantime, I have some dirt to dig up.