If America Wasn't Selected: A Selection Fanfic

Chapter Twenty-One: America

"I really don't want to watch Maxon's wedding reception," I told May as she turned on the TV in excitement.

"Too bad!" she giggled.

"May!" I groaned and went upstairs.

I looked out the window and my eyes instantly caught sight of the treehouse. The vines grew around the old wood, and they entangled each other viciously. I missed being in that treehouse. I missed the fresh aroma of wood, and the beautiful smell of flowers from below.

Two minutes later, I found myself crawling in there.

I sat in the corner of the treehouse, my legs to my chest, and I gazed around. I replayed memories that Aspen and I had shared in this treehouse in my head, when Aspen had encouraged me to join the Selection and when he had urged me to play my violin at the Selection-themed party. He had always been so supportive, so nice, so –

Stop it America! I scolded to myself. I had lost Aspen and Maxon, two people who had really touched my heart.

First, Aspen had wrecked my heart. He might as well have stomped on it and threw it against the wall. But when I had met Maxon, he mended my heart. I felt loved, protected, and safe.

But then he tore it apart, too. So now, my heart ached with emptiness. It was hollowed. No love entered it, because no one loved me. That was that.

A tear shed from my eye as I recalled the memories of Aspen and Maxon. I should have never gone to the castle. I could have died! But worse, way worse, my heart got broken instead - twice. And I didn't ever want to go back to that castle again. I felt disgusting to be loved by two people and then be left on the curb, while they carelessly strolled off.

"America?" A voice said, and it could only belong to one person. One person who I had loved, but who had broken my heart. One person who had let me down. One person who would never deserve to love me again.

It was Aspen.

I shunned him. His voice echoed through the treehouse, and I winced. I wanted nothing to do with him, even though he begged to differ. I couldn't handle him. My heart had been through too much.

"Mer –"

"Never call me that again," I said immediately.

"America, listen to me."

I ignored him.

"America," he repeated. Aspen touched my shoulder, and a shock of coldness tingled through my veins.

On impact, I turned around and slapped Aspen.

Then I began to cry.

"Aspen, I am so sorry, I don't know why I did that," I cried. I wiped a tear. "Are you okay?"

Aspen touched his red cheek, and nodded. "I'll be fine. And it's okay, Mer. I don't care if you hate me. I love you."

"Never say you love me, because you probably said the same thing to Brenna," I said, rolling my eyes at the sight of Aspen and Brenna together.

"No, America, I didn't. I wouldn't ever say that to her, not in a million years. I love you, America. I will never love anyone other than you."

"You liar!" I screamed. My throat felt raw, and my eyes itched from crying so much. "If you loved me, you wouldn't put me through the pain of a heartbreak, Aspen!"

He shook his head. "I was upset that you were gone. I felt empty. Brenna came to me, and she wanted me, and I stupidly - stupidly - let her have me."

"I'm not sure if I can believe you," I whispered, choking on my tears. "And I'm not sure I can love you again."

"You can, America. I love you."

"I told you not to say that," I coldly said.

"I can say it if I want. I love you, America Singer."

"No!"

"Yes. I love you."

"You can't love me," I argued. "And I can't love you."

"America, I love you."

"I said stop!"

Aspen paused. He said nothing. I wasn't sure why he suddenly became silent, but then I knew.

He was kissing me.

I released at once, but then before I could slap him again, Aspen and I locked gazes. His mysterious green eyes moved, studying my face. His brown hair, curved up, smelled like the sun.

And then I was kissing him again.

My heart was mending by itself. I could feel love pouring into me, inspiring me, powering me. I was reunited with my first love, Aspen Leger.

I wanted him. I needed him. I loved –

Maxon was standing on the ground. Maxon. He held a bouquet of flowers in his right hand, and was waving with his left.

But when he saw Aspen and I kissing, he dropped the bouquet and stomped away, tears clearly in his eyes.