The Selection (Is A Modelling Competition)✔️

Chapter 12: Letters

When I got back to my room after setting the terms of the bet with Maxon, I found two letters on the bed, one of them covered in Aspen's messy scrawl, the other in a neater script, with scrolling curlicues.

I opened the first letter, excited. Aspen had replied!

Mer,

I love you. I love you so much. By now, you must know that - you have to know that. This is why I have to write what I am writing.

My heart ached at his words. I didn't want to read the next part - but Aspen had wrote it, so I made myself do it.

I think we should go on a break. I don't want to be the guy who holds you back from your dreams or the guy that you'll come to resent if we stay together, because I'm poor, America. I can't give you nice things or give you a better life. I break my back every day just trying to put food in the table. I don't want you to have that life, to live that life with me. You could go so far, and all I can do is drag you down.

I know you might not agree with me now, but in time, I hope you see the reason behind my decision.

Love you,

Aspen

I blinked. My eyes welled with tears. Had that really just happened? I had thought we were fine; I thought we were great together! I thought we had a strong love, the kind that could outlast distance and time and struggles, but I guess the second we were apart he'd throw himself at other girls. Girls like Brenna Butler.

The weight of his words pressed down on me, and I collapsed onto the bed, crying.

:::

After wiping off most of my mascara tears, I opened the second letter, the one with unfamiliar handwriting.

My dear,

This had been crossed out, and replaced.

America,

Please honour me with your company for a walk in the gardens with you this afternoon at four. I will pick you up at your room.

Maxon

I thought I'd distract myself from my heartbreak by going on an outing with Maxon - okay, really, the bet had forced me into it, but Maxon had also fulfilled my terms of the wager: there was a stack of pants, neatly folded, along with the note. I didn't want to win, and I certainly didn't want to be a model, but I was going to stay as long as possible.

I would be here as long as it took to move on from Aspen. I couldn't do that at home, with everything that reminded me of him, but here? Here, with the luxurious surroundings and challenges and pretty clothes that made up the competition?

Here, I could forget about Aspen. Here, I could start over.

:::

I waited and waited until five, killing time by inviting Marlee to my room. We painted each other's nails (mine were blue and hers were gold) and I tried to teach her to play the piano. Unfortunately, she was terrible at it.

"Oh, gosh!" We were laughing. "It sounds like I'm playing with my elbows!"

"Let's try that next," I suggested. "Maybe it would sound less like the piano is sick."

"Or dying." Marlee and I fell against each other, giggling. She squinted at me, and straightened up. "Hey, have you been crying?"

Damn. I know I should have gotten someone else to do my makeup for me. Or maybe not. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity: confess that I was missing someone back home, and leave this damned contest once and for all. Maxon seemed like a nice guy, surely he'd let me go if I didn't want to stay. And it didn't make sense to have someone in the competition who didn't want to be there.

Lost in my thoughts, I almost missed the knock at the door.

"Come in," I said. He obliged.

"Good evening, America. Hello - Marlee, is it?" He smiled at both of us - but did his gaze linger a little longer on me, or was I imagining it?

"Yes." She smiled back, then turned away, suddenly shy. "Uh, I'm going to get ready for dinner, is that okay?"

"Yeah! Go ahead." Suddenly, I felt eager to be alone with Maxon. Eager to feel wanted and happy and throw myself into something that didn't remind me of home.

Did I... Want to be with him?