His Choice (The Selection)

Chapter Thirteen

By noon, I have already gotten tired of just sitting there and reading magazines. I had adventured upstairs to my room where my maids had cleaned up the mess. They were not there but I called them up. Maybra had gotten there within five minutes.

When I expressed my boredom to her, she gave me a list of suggestions, one of which was going to the gym. I hadn't realized there was a gym in the palace, but I said yes. She found me some athletic shorts and a tank top and sent me downstairs with directions to the gym.

After following her directions and only getting lost in a library once, I found myself where I am currently at, running on a treadmill. At home I always enjoyed running and doing stuff at the gym with Lily. It feels different now when I by myself, my MP3 the only company I have.

As I am about to change the speed settings, a voice behind me says, "Be careful, that thing's dangerous." I look up in the mirror in front of me and see Prince Charles behind me. Stifling a sigh, I switch off the machine, pull out my ear buds. and turn to look at him.

"Prince Charles," I say as I curtsy. Instead of a suit, he has on a gray tee shirt with a football team logo and navy blue basketball pants. He raises his eyebrows. "Sorry. Hi, just Charles." He nods.

"That's better. . . Now, who gave you permission to use my gym?" he asks. I look over towards the door and bite my bottom lip.

"Um. . . My maid, actually. I was bored and she suggested that I come here," I explain. He nods slowly.

"You need to leave," he says. I look over at the door quickly then back at him.

"I what?" I ask. He nods.

"This is my gym. From 12 to 1:30 it is for me and only me," he says. I try to pick up any signs of humor but I detect nothing.

"Okay. I will be here at 1:31, I guess," I say. I hop off the machine, grab my bottle of water and MP3, and begin walking towards the door. His chuckles stop me and cause me to turn around.

"I'm kidding," he says. I release a small sigh through my nose.

"Of course you were," I say. He walks over to a cabinet against the wall and reveals a stereo. He presses a button.

"You're welcome to stay. I could always use a workout buddy," he says. I nod and walk back over to the treadmill. I put my stuff down and turn my MP3 back on. I begin running again.

Charles comes over to the treadmill next to mine. He runs as well but instead of an MP3, he has a remote. He presses a button and music starts blaring around the gym. I sigh and turn mine up. Trying to tune him out, I stare at my reflection.

I notice his reflection staring at mine as I turn up the volume of my music. The volume of the music blaring through the gym gets louder. I raise my eyebrows and turn the volume of mine up again. He smirks and presses a button on the remote, completely drowning my music out.

I pull out my ear buds and put my MP3 in the cup holder on the treadmill. I look over at the prince and raise my eyebrows. "Is there any certain reason you decided to challenge me to a volume war?" I ask. He laughs and nods.

"Yeah. Actually when I proposed that we be work out buddies I meant that we should not ignore each other and we actually talk," he says. He reaches for his remote again and turn down the volume of the rock music. He clicks a button and changes it to the radio station I listen to at home.

"Okay, well, what do you want to talk about?" I ask. He shrugs.

"I don't know," he says. I don't say anything back, I just watch myself run in the mirror. "Why did you seem mad at what I said earlier?" he asks. I shrug my shoulders as best as I could while running.

"I don't know. Probably because me being that is true," I answer. He nods.

"Oh. . . Well, why do you think it will be true?" he asks. His reflection in the mirror is facing me. I know that has to be hard. I can't stand to not have my head facing forward when I run.

"Because it is what is expected of me. It is the same thing that was expected of my mom, and her mom, and her mom," I say. He raises his eyebrows.

"Why do you say that?" he asks. I shrug.

"I don't know. I guess because rich people are expected to marry rich people, which is true because I would never talk to anyone under me most less marry them, and most people assume that when you marry rich only the man has to work. The woman is supposed to sit there look pretty," I explain. He steps on the side of his treadmill and turns to look at me.

"What's wrong with poor people?" he asks. It instantly dawns on me that his father and sister married people below them. I open my mouth to talk but nothing comes out. "It's just money," Charles says. He turns off his treadmill and walks over to a stationary bike.

"I don't know. . . I am just expected to marry someone with money," I say. He nods.

"But if you really loved them would their income actually matter?" he asks. I shrug.

"I guess not," I say. He nods but doesn't say anything else. Saying that was stupid. If he told someone about that my dad would loose his job and we would be out on the streets.

I run until my legs have started to burn. I look down at the meter that tracks how far I have ran and it tells me just below 5 miles. I turn off the machine and get on one of the stationary bikes.

"Do you exercise a lot?" Charles asks after I have been sitting there for a few minutes. I nod.

"Yeah. I have to for dance," I answer. He nods.

"What type of dance?" he asks.

"I take ballet, hip hop, jazz, and Irish lessons," I answer. He nods and continues pumping his legs. He doesn't say anything. After a few more minutes of silence, I ask, "Do you exercise a lot?" He nods again.

"Yeah. They put the gym in for me," he answers. I arch my eyebrows.

"Why do you exercise so much?" I ask. He shrugs.

"I don't know. I think my dad, Flynn, and Flynn's brother are all strong men and I wanted to be like them," he answers. I nod.

"That's a good answer," I say. He nods again. Neither of us say anything. The sounds of our stationary bikes spinning in circles is all that there is in the room.

Outside, a loud grandfather clock strikes, marking one o'clock. Prince Charles looks up at the clock. He slows to a stop and then gets off the machine. "I guess that is my cue to leave," he says. I nod. "I'll see you later," he says as he collects his things and turns off the stereo.

"Bye," I say. He walks towards the door and looks back at me.

"Can I assume that I will see my workout buddy again tomorrow?" he asks. I nod.

"I think you can."

I have updated three days in a row... What is this madness? So... There is a problem. One week from Monday I start school again. And it is my first year of high school. And I am going to be in all Pre AP classes so I have no clue if how much time I will have to update... But for the next week I will try to post as much as possible! Comment and vote please!

Disclaimer: The wonderful Kiera Cass owns The Selection, not me.