If America Wasn't Selected: A Selection Fanfic

Chapter Eight: America

The letter was from May.

America,

Okay, so I have a lot to explain in this letter.

First of all, Aspen told me you guys were dating.

I found a penny in a jar in your bedroom while I was looking for a headband. I noticed the item, and it looked odd. When I asked everyone in the household, they didn't know, so then I asked Aspen.

He tried lying to me at first, but he's not that good at it, so then it all poured out of him, like water releasing from a dam. I got so excited! You and Aspen seemed like the perfect couple. Like, seriously, Asperica? I shipped it.

Days later of secret-keeping and lying to protect your relationship, I saw Aspen.

I don't know how to say this, but...

He was in that old treehouse in the backyard. His back was facing away, but I could easily see someone's arms around him. Someone's blonde hair over his shoulders.

I gasped, catching their attention. The girl Aspen was with revealed her face.

Brenna.

Aspen was cheating on you with Brenna.

America, I'm so sorry. I really am. I thought I should tell you right away, but please don't let this ruin your week-long getaway.

I love you. And remember: Don't let this bother you at the castle. And I'm so, deeply sorry.

Love, May.

Before I knew it I was crying. Sobbing. Tears escaped my eyes faster than anything. I wanted to punch a hole in the wall, smash a vase, whatever. Anger bubbled up inside of me. I felt betrayed. Disgusting. Like I wasn't good enough for Aspen, let alone anyone. I crumbled up the letter and tore it to pieces.

I was a wreck. My face was tomato red as I whined and sobbed.

Then I realized it was two in the morning. But I didn't care at all.

I think I hated myself.

I hated myself for trusting Aspen.

I hated myself for believing him when he said I was beautiful.

I hated myself for wasting all my time lying to my family about Aspen and I.

I hated myself.

I kept repeating that sentence in my head. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.

How was I going to bare myself when I got home? I didn't know. Now I didn't want to go home.

Someone knocked on my door.

I checked the time: two-fifteen. I wiped my tears and opened the door.

"Hi, I'm Marlee. You must be the musician for the party this week."

"Oh, yes. I'm America...um, come in?"

Marlee smiled. "Sorry, um, I thought I heard someone crying. Were you?"

I gestured to the millions of tissues on my bed. "What do you think?" We both laughed.

Marlee walked in, and introduced herself as one of the girls from the Selection. She had long, honey blonde hair and brown eyes.

"So, why were you crying?" Marlee asked.

As I thought about the topic, more tears slid down my cheek. "Um, I kind of received a letter from back home. My boyfriend was, um, cheating on me."

Marlee's jaw dropped. "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry, America, I didn't know. Oh, this must be terrible." She offered me a hug.

"Thanks," I sniffled. "And now, I think I just hate myself."

"Don't say that!" Marlee scolded. "Never say that. You love yourself, you just hate that scumbag."

I giggled. "Thanks, Marlee."

"No problem. But, some ways I get over a breakup are listening to music, eating ice cream, all of that generic stuff. What do you do?"

I shrugged. "Aspen was my first boyfriend."

"Oh. This must be - I don't know. I'm so sorry. I dumped my first boyfriend."

"Why?" I chuckled.

Marlee explained, "Neal was my first boyfriend, and we were watching a horror movie one night. He squealed and screamed so much, that I just had to break up with him."

I broke out laughing. "Marlee, that's hilarious!"

She shrugged, grinning. "Haha, I hope Prince Maxon isn't like that."

Feeling uncomfortable about my breakup with Aspen, I changed the subject. "How is Maxon, by the way?"

Marlee's eyes were filled with hope. "He's so kind, handsome, and awkward in a cute, huggable way."

"Do you love him?"

Marlee shook her head. "First of all, he likes this Celeste girl. I think he wants to keep me because I'm 'nice'. Second, I'm not interested in him. I'm not sure, he's just not my type at all."

"Oh, okay," I said. I completely understood her, too.

"Did you apply for the Selection?" Marlee questioned.

I answered honestly. "At first I didn't want to. I mean, I had no interest in the prince, and besides, I was dating...you-know-who," I said, referring to Aspen. "But Aspen urged me to apply, so I did, and of course I didn't get in. I'm a Five, so why would they pick me?"

Marlee shook her head. "They don't care about castes. At least not during the Selection. I think it's totally unfair, we have a Two. And she's a model."

"Celeste?" I asked.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

I thought back to watching the Report with May. "I saw her on T.V. She looked like a real witch."

"She is a real witch."

Marlee and I were both laughing, having a great time, and I was so grateful for having a good friend. I had expected all of the girls from the Selection to be rude, stuck-up brats, but Marlee was the opposite.

"Thanks, Marlee." I said.

"No problem," she replied.

And then we heard the gunshots, followed by someone screaming, "The Rebels! They're here!"