Selection

WHEN WEGOT THELETTER in the post, mymother wasecstatic.

She had already decided thatall our problems weresolved, gone

forever. The big hitch in her brilliant planwas me. I didn’t think I

wasa particularly disobedient daughter, but this was whereI drew

theline.

I didn’t want to beroyalty. And I didn’t want to bea One. I

didn’tevenwant to try.

I hid inmy room, the only placeto avoid thechattering of our full

house, trying to come up with an argument that would sway her.

So far, I had asolid collection ofmy honest opinions . . . I didn’t

think there wasasingle oneshe would listen to.

Icouldn’tavoid her much longer. It

wasapproaching dinnertime,

and as the oldestchild left in the house,cooking duties fell onme. I

pulled myself out of bed and walked into thesnake pit.

I gota glarefromMombut no words. We did asilent dancethrough the kitchen and dining roomas we

prepared chicken, pasta,and appleslices,and set thetablefor

five. IfI glanced up fromatask, she’d fixme with afiercelook as

ifshecould shame meinto wanting thesamethings she did. She

tried thatevery so often. LikeifI didn’t want to take on a

particular job becauseI knewthefamily hosting us was

unnecessarily rude. Or ifshe wanted meto do a massivecleaning

whenwecouldn’tafford to havea Six comeand help.

Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t. And this was one

area whereI was unswayable.

Shecouldn’tstand me when I was stubborn. But I got it from

her, so sheshouldn’t have been surprised. This wasn’t justabout

me, though. Momhad been tenselately. Thesummer wasending,

and soonwe’d befaced with cold. And worry.

Momset down the pitcher ofteain thecenter ofthetable with

an angry thud. Mymouthwatered at thethought oftea with lemon.

But I would haveto wait; it would besuch a wasteto have my

glass nowand then haveto drink water withmymeal.

“Would it kill you to fill out theform?”shesaid, no longerableto

contain herself.“The Selection could bea wonderful opportunity

for you, forall of us.”

I sighed aloud, thinking that filling out that formmightactually be

something closeto death.

It was no secret that therebels—the underground colonies that

hated Illéa, our largeand comparatively young country—made

theirattacks on the palace both violentand frequent. We’d seenthemin action inCarolina before. One ofthe magistrates’ houses

was burned to the ground,and a handful ofTwos had theircars

vandalized. There waseven a magnificent jailbreak once, but

considering they only released ateenage girlwho’d managed to get

herself pregnantand a Sevenwho wasafather to nine, Icouldn’t

help thinking theywerein theright that time.

But beyond the potential danger, I felt likeit would hurtmy very

heart to even consider the Selection. Icouldn’t help smiling as I

thoughtaboutallthereasons I had to stay exactlywhereI was.

“Theselast fewyears have been very hard on your father,”she

hissed.“If you haveany compassion atall, youmight think of him.”

Dad. Yeah. I really did want to help Dad. And May and Gerad.

And, I supposed,evenmymother. When shetalked about it that

way, there was nothing to smileabout. Things had been strained

around herefor far too long. I wondered ifDad would seethisasa

way back to normal, ifany amount ofmoney could makethings

better.

It wasn’t that our situationwas so precarious that we wereliving

in fear ofsurvival oranything. We weren’t destitute. But I guess we

weren’t that far offeither.

Ourcaste was just threeaway fromthe very bottom. We were

artists. And artistsand classicalmusicians were only threesteps up

fromdirt. Literally. Our moneywas stretched as tightasa high

wire,and our income was highly dependent on thechanging

seasons.

I remembered reading in atimeworn history book that all the major holidays used to be cramped into the winter monthSomething called Halloween followed byThanksgiving, then

Christmasand NewYear’s. All back to back.

Christmas was stillthesame. It’s not like you could changethe

birth date ofa deity. But when Illéa madethe massive peacetreaty

withChina, the NewYearcamein January or February,

depending on the moon. Alltheindividualcelebrations of

thankfulnessand independencefromour part ofthe world were

nowsimply the GratefulFeast. Thatcamein thesummer. It wasa

timeto celebratetheforming ofIlléa, to rejoicein thefact that we

werestill here.

I didn’t knowwhat Halloweenwas. It never resurfaced.

So at least threetimesa year, the wholefamilywould befully

employed. Dad and Maywould maketheirart,and patrons would

purchasethemas gifts. Momand I would performat parties—me

singing and her on piano—not turning down asinglejob ifwe

could manageit. When I was younger, performing in front ofan

audienceterrified me. But nowI just tried to equate myselfto

background music. That’s what we werein theeyes of our

employers:meant to be heard and notseen.

Gerad hadn’t found his talent yet. But he was only seven. Hestill

had alittletime.

Soon theleaves would change,and our tinyworld would be

unsteady again. Five mouths but only four workers. No guarantees

ofemployment untilChristmastime. When I thought ofit that way, the Selection seemed likearope,

something sureIcould grab onto. Thatstupid lettercould liftmeout ofthe darkness,and Icould pullmy family alongwithme.

I looked overatmymother. Fora Five, she wasalittle on the

heavy side, whichwas odd. She wasn’ta glutton,and it’s not like

we had anything to overeatanyway. Perhaps that’s just the way a

body looksafter fivechildren. Her hair was red, like mine, but full

of brilliant whitestreaks. Those had appeared suddenly and in

abundanceabout two yearsago. Linescreased thecorners of her

eyes, though she was still pretty young,and Icould seeas she

moved around the kitchen thatshe was hunched overas ifan

invisible weight rested on her shoulders.

I knewshe had alot to carry. And I knewthat was why she had

taken to being particularlymanipulative withme. Wefoughtenough

without theextrastrain, butas theempty fall quietly approached,

she became muchmoreirritable. And I knewshethought I was

being unreasonable now, to notevenwant to fill outasilly little

form.

But there werethings—important things—in this world that I

loved. And that piece of paper seemed likea brick wall keeping

meaway fromwhat I wanted. Maybe what I wanted was stupid.

Maybeit wasn’teven something Icould have. Butstill, it was mine.

I didn’t think Icould sacrifice my dreams, no matter howmuchmy

familymeant to me. Besides, I had given themso much already.

I was the oldest oneleft nowthat Kenna was married and Kota

was gone, so I had stepped into my roleas quickly as Icould. I

did my best to contribute. Wescheduled my homeschooling

around my rehearsals, which took up most ofthe day sinceI was

trying to master severalinstrumentsas wellas singing.But with theletter here, none ofmywork mattered anymore. In

mymom’s mind, I wasalready queen.

IfI was smart, I would have hidden thatstupid notice before

Dad, May,and Gerad camein. But I didn’t knowMomhad it

tucked away in herclothes,and mid-mealshe pulled it out.

“‘To the House ofSinger,’”shesang out.

I tried to swipeitaway, butshe was too quick for me. They

would allfind outsooner or lateranyway, but ifshe did it likethis,

they’d all be on her side.

“Mom, please!”I pleaded.

“I want to hear!”May squealed. That was no surprise. My little

sister looked just like me, only on athree-year delay. But where

our looks were practically identical, our personalities wereanything

but. Unlike me, she was outgoing and hopeful. And currently very

boy crazy. This wholethingwould seemincredibly romanticto her.

I feltmyself blushwith theembarrassment. Dad listened intently,

and Maywas practically bouncingwith joy. Gerad, sweet little

thing, hejust kepteating. Mothercleared her throatand went on.

“‘Therecentcensus hasconfirmed thatasingle woman between

theages ofsixteen and twenty currently resides in your home. We

would liketo make you aware ofan upcoming opportunity to

honor the great nation ofIlléa.’”

May squealed again and grabbed my arm.“That’s you!”

“I know, you little monkey. Stop before you break my arm.”But

shejust held my hand and bounced some more.

“‘Our beloved prince, Maxon Schreave,’”Momcontinued,“‘is

coming ofagethis month. As he ventures into this newpart of hislife, he hopes to moveforward with a partner, to marry atrue

Daughter ofIlléa. If youreligible daughter, sister, orchargeis

interested in possibly becoming the bride ofPrince Maxon and the

adored princess ofIlléa, pleasefill out theenclosed formand return

it to your localProvince Services Office. One woman fromeach

province will be drawn at randomto meet the prince.

“‘Participants will be housed at thelovely Illéa PalaceinAngeles

for the duration oftheir stay. Thefamilies ofeach participant will be

generouslycompensated’”—she drewout the words foreffect —“‘for their serviceto theroyalfamily.’”

I rolled my eyesas she went on. This was the way they did it

with sons. Princesses born into theroyalfamilyweresold offinto

marriagein an attempt to solidify our young relations with other

countries. I understood why it was done—we needed allies. But I

didn’t likeit. I hadn’t had to seesuch athing,and I hoped I never

would. Theroyalfamily hadn’t produced a princess in three

generations. Princes, however, married women ofthe peopleto

keep up the morale of our sometimes volatile nation. I think the

Selectionwas meant to drawus togetherand remind everyonethat

Illéaitselfwas born out of next to nothing.

Neither option seemed very good to me. And theidea of being

entered into acontest for the wholecountry to watch as this stuck-

up little wimp picked the most gorgeousand shallowone ofthe

bunch to bethesilent, pretty facethatstood beside himonTV. . .

it wasenough to make mescream. Could anything be more

humiliating?

Besides, I’d been in the homes ofenoughTwosand Threes to

besureI never wanted to beamong them, letalonea One. Except

for thetimes whenwe were hungry, I was quitecontent to bea

Five. Momwas thecasteclimber, notme.

“And ofcourse he would love America! She’s so beautiful,”

Momswooned.

“Please, Mom. Ifanything, I’maverage.”

“You are not!”May said.“BecauseI look just like you,and I’m

pretty!”Her smile was so wide, Icouldn’tcontainmy laughter.

And it wasa good point. Because May reallywas beautiful.

It was morethan her face, though, morethan her winning smile

and brighteyes. May radiated an energy,an enthusiasmthatmade

youwant to be wherever she was. Maywas magnetic,and I,

honestly, wasn’t.

“Gerad, what do you think? Do you think I’mpretty?”Iasked.

Alleyes fell on the youngestmember of our family.

“No! Girlsare gross!”

“Gerad, please.”Momgavean exasperated sigh, but her heart

wasn’t in it. He was hard to get upset with.“America, youmust

knowyou’rea very lovely girl.”

“IfI’mso lovely, howcome no oneevercomes by to ask me

out?”

“Oh, they come by, but I shoo themaway. My girlsaretoo

pretty to marry Fives. Kenna gota Four,and I’msure you can do

even better.”Momtook asip of her tea.

“His nameis James. Stop calling hima number. And since when

do boyscome by?”I heard my voice getting higherand higher. I’dnever seen asingle boy on our steps.

“Awhile,”Dad said, making his firstcomment on all ofthis. His

voice had a hint ofsorrowto it,and he was staring decidedly at his

cup. I was trying to figure out what upset himso much. Boys

coming by? Momand mearguing again? Theidea ofme not

entering thecontest? Howfaraway I’d beifI did?

Dad and I wereclose. I think by thetimeIcamealongMom

wasalittle worn out, so Dad took care ofme most ofthetime. I

gotmy temper frommymom, but I gotmy compassion frommy

dad.

Hiseyescame up for the briefest ofmoments,and I suddenly

understood. He didn’t want to ask this ofme. He wouldn’t want

meto go. But hecouldn’t deny the benefits ifI managed to makeit

in,even fora day.

“America, bereasonable,”Momsaid.“We haveto bethe only

parents in thecountry trying to talk our daughter into this. Think of

the opportunity! You could be queen one day!”

“Mom. Even ifI wanted to be queen, which I thoroughly don’t,

therearethousands of other girls in the provinceentering this thing.

Thousands. And ifI somehowwas drawn, there would still be

thirty-four other girls there, no doubtmuch betteratseduction than

Icould ever pretend to be.”

Gerad’sears perked up.“What’s seduction?”

“Nothing,”weallchorused back.

“It’s ridiculous to think that, with all ofthat, I’d somehow

manageto win,”I finished.

Mymother pushed herchair outas shestood and leaned acrossthetabletoward me.“Someoneis going to, America. You haveas

good achanceasanyoneelse.” Shethrewher napkin down and

went to leave.“Gerad, when you finish, it’s timefor your bath.”

He groaned.

May atein silence. Gerad asked for seconds, but there weren’t

any. When they got up, I started clearing thetable while Dad sat

theresipping his tea. He had paint in his hairagain,asmattering of

yellowthatmade mesmile. Hestood, brushing crumbs off his shirt.

“Sorry, Dad,”I murmured as I picked up plates.

“Don’t besilly, kitten. I’mnotmad.”Hesmiled easily and putan

armaround me.

“I just . . .”

“You don’t haveto explain it to me, honey. I know.”He kissed

me onmy forehead.“I’mgoing back to work.”

And with that I moved to the kitchen to startcleaning. I wrapped

mymostly untouched plate undera napkin and hid it in thefridge.

No oneelseleftmorethan crumbs.

I sighed, heading to my roomto get ready for bed. The whole

thingwas infuriating. Why did Momhaveto pushmeso much? Wasn’tshe happy?

Didn’tshelove Dad? Whywasn’t this good enough for her?

I lay onmy lumpymattress, trying to wrap my head around the

Selection. I guess it had itsadvantages. It would be niceto eat well

fora whileat least. But there was no reason to bother. I wasn’t

going to fallin love with Prince Maxon. Fromwhat I’d seen on the

Illéa Capital Report, I wouldn’teven likethe guy.

Itseemed likeforever untilmidnight rolled around. There wasa

mirror bymy door,and I stopped to makesure my hair looked as

good as it had this morning and put on alittlelip gloss so there’d

besomecolor onmy face. Momwas pretty strictaboutsaving

makeup for whenwe had to performor go out in public, but I

usually snuck some on nights liketonight.

As quietly as Icould, Icrept into the kitchen. I grabbed allmy

leftovers, some bread that wasexpiring,and an appleand bundled

itall up. It was painfulto walk back to my roomso slowly, now

that it was late. But ifI’d doneitearlier, I would havejust been

antsy.

I opened mywindowand looked out into our little patch of

backyard. There wasn’tmuch ofa moon out, so I had to letmy

eyesadjust beforeI moved. Across thelawn, thetree housestood

barely silhouetted in the night. Whenwe were younger, Kota

would tie up sheets to the branches so it looked likeaship. He

was thecaptain,and I wasalways his firstmate. My duties mainly

consisted ofsweeping thefloorand making food, whichwas dirt

and twigs stuffed into Mom’s baking pans. He’d takeaspoonful of

dirtand “eat”it by throwing it over his shoulder. This meant that

I’d haveto sweep again, but I didn’tmind. I was just happy to be

on theship withKota.

I looked around. Allthe neighboring houses were dark. No one

was watching. Icrawled out ofthe windowcarefully. I used to get

bruisesacross my stomach fromdoing it the wrongway, but nowit

waseasy,atalent I’d mastered over the years. And I didn’t want

to mess up any of the food I scurried across thelawn inmy cutest pajamas. Icould haveleft

my day clothes on, but this felt better. I supposed it didn’tmatter

what I wore, but I felt pretty inmy little brown shortsand fitted

whiteshirt.

It wasn’t hard anymoreto climb theslats nailed into thetree with

only one hand. I’d developed thatskillas well. Each step up wasa

relief. It wasn’tmuch ofa distance, but fromhereit felt likeallthe

commotion frommy house was milesaway. HereI didn’t haveto

beanyone’s princess.

As Iclimbed into thetiny box that was my escape, I knewI

wasn’talone. In thefarcorner, someone was hiding in the night.

My breath sped; Icouldn’t help it. I setmy food down and

squinted. The person shifted, lighting an all but unusablecandle. It

wasn’tmuch light—no onein the house would seeit—but it was

enough. Finally theintruder spoke,asly grin spreading across his

face.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”