The one who got away: A Selection fanfic

Chapter 5

****Hi! This chapter is dedicated to famjam31, who was the first (and so far only) comment. Okay, I have a challenge for whoever is reading this! The first comment that is 3 sentences or longer (and no, 'Update! Update! Update!' Or a comment of similar caliber does NOT count) will get the next two chapters dedicated to them, AND the next chapter I will try to get posted one day after the winning comment (or maybe, just maybe, within less than one day of the it). ONTO THE STORY!!!!!!****

Maxon POV

I was walking to my office when I heard voices coming from the schoolroom. "-was very poor, and we needed the Selection money, but I didn't want to enter." America's melodic voice came floating out into the hall. I was intrigued, so I stood just outside the doorway to listen. "But why not?" Anna wanted to know. It sounded like America wasn't sure how to answer her question. "Um, I was in love with someone else, but we, uh, broke up." My hands balled into fists. The guard who had caused me to make the biggest mistake of my life. On second thought, not marrying Kriss meant no Anna and Daniel. Anna's gasp brought me out of my thoughts. "But I ended up entering, and I got chosen." "Oh. Did Daddy not like you or something?" Danny asked. Ha. More like the exact opposite. I liked her -no, loved her- maybe a bit too much, so much that I felt like I couldn't breathe when she was gone. "Actually, when your father and I met, I wasn't very nice at all." The understatement of the century. She had called the Crown Prince of Illèa shallow, and she had kneed him in the royal jewels. But he had forgiven her. He loved her, even then, even when he himself didn't know it yet. "Then one day, the guy from home showed up and became a guard." America continued. "Did you still love him?" Anna asked. It was the question that I, too, had wondered about for seven years. "No, not really." America said. Then why didn't she tell me about him? "Then why didn't you tell Daddy?" I held back a chuckle. Like father, like daughter. "Because we were still freinds, and I didn't want him to get fired." Oh. That made sense. She had once told me that she knew his family on a personal level, and that when someone loses their main provider, it's basically a death scentence for Fives and below. "Oh." That was Anna again. America let out a sigh. "Your father and I fell in love. I loved him more than anything." She said, her voice faltering on the last word. "He told me that he was going to propose to me. Then, right before the planned proposal, he found out abouthe guard. He was mad at me for not telling him, so he proposed to your mother instead of me." That was pretty much the whole story in a nutshell. I peeked into the room. There they were, sitting on a window seat. The children clung to her, and she stared out at the gardens. From my angle, I could see a small crystalline tear trickling down her cheek. "Do you still love him?" Anna's normally loud, chatty voice was subdued. America glanced at her. "Yes." She said softly, so I had to strain to hear. I wondered if she knew that I still loved her, too. "Well, children, I have to prepare for tomorrow's lesson. And, it's about your bedtime. Why don't you have the maids help get you ready for bed. Then you can ask either your mother or father to say goodnight." "Mother doesn't want to." Daniel said quietly. "Hmmm. Then once your daddy is done with work, he can come see you." She helped the children off the seat and they walked out of the classroom. I don't know why, but I suddenly came up behind her and covered her eyes with my hands. "Excuse me, Officer whoever-you-are, kindly remove your hands." She said stiffly. I laughed "Who are you calling Officer?" Gasping, she quickly turned her head. "Maxon -I mean, Your Highness." I gave her a mock pout. "America, you know my name is Maxon." She grinned. "I knew you smelled like him." She mumbled to herself. "What?" I asked. She blushed. "Um, you don't smell like any particular scent or anything, you just smell like Maxon." "I bet I smell really bad." I said. "No, you smell perfect." She was shaking her head. "Now I have work to do." She said. "Let me stay. I can help you." I whined. America rolled her eyes. "The first thing you can do is grab my teacher's manual." America pointed to a drawer. "In there." I opened the drawer, and saw the booklet near a package of correcting pens. On the front cover it said 'This book belongs to _________' and in the empty space, America had written 'America Schreave'. She had crossed out the 'Schreave' and wrote 'Singer' instead. Tear blots stained the cover. "Maxon? Hello?" America's voice made me look up. "Uh, here." I said lamely, handing her the manual. Her confused eyes softened as she glanced down at the words. America sits down slowly, and I sit in the empty space. Her eyes start to get watery. "America. You know how bad I am with crying women." She bites her lip. "I'm not crying," she says defensively, "I just have something in my eye." I raise my eyebrows. "America," I say sweetly, "I know you better than that. Why do you keep crying?" She studied the booklet in her hands and sighs. "Sometimes, I trick myself into thinking that you ended up choosing me." She gestured to the writing. "There are nights when I dream that, we, uh, got married, and I wake up, expecting to feel your arms around me." America looks away. I put my arms around her, and, just like in both of our dreams, we sit there, on the window seat, just like we used to do seven years ago.