A/N: Hi everyone! This starts at the very end of The Selection, after Aspen is at the palace and just after America and Maxon fight about Celeste, in the middle of chapter 22. This is going to be very similar to the books for the first seven or so chapters, and even after that nearly all the actual plot points will be the same, but the interactions and feelings involved will all be different! Hopefully its less frustrating than watching everyone keep everything to themselves haha. Let me know what you think!

I stalk back to my room, furious with both Maxon and myself. Maxon, for not listening to me about Celeste. How could he not see that she was just constantly manipulating him! Strangely, I realize, my frustration with Celeste was not over what she was doing to us, the Selected, but what she was doing to Maxon, the man. I realize that I am feeling very protective of Maxon, and I haven't been protective of someone since-

Aspen.

He is standing outside my door, looking every inch a soldier. I wouldn't have noticed it was Aspen if I hadn't known that Maxon put him there. I look up at him, wondering what I would see in his eyes, and all I saw was love. I'm sure he reads confusion in mine, but I don't really care at the moment.

"Lady America," he whispers.

"Officer Leger."

He leans over and surprises me as he opens the door for me. I almost protest, but I don't have the energy. I walk slowly into my room, fully aware of his eyes glued to my back. I try to think about what this means for Maxon and me, or Aspen and me, but I just can't. Losing either one of them makes me want to cry. I hear the door shut softly behind me, and I stand at the foot of my bed for a while before I register what I am doing.

For the sake of normalcy rather than comfort, I strip my dress off and fold it neatly over the back of the chair at the vanity. I pull the pins out of my hair, weave it into a loose braid, then pull the soft nightgown that Mary had left on my bed over my head. I crawl under the covers, burrowing down into their warmth, vaguely remembering that these beds are always warm, no matter how long it had been since someone had been in them. I wonder about the technology involved for a moment before Maxon and Aspen begin to fight in my mind, and I drift off into an uneasy sleep.

~PtG~

The next day, I walk around in a fog. I take breakfast in my room, then sit in the Women's Room all day, pretending to read. Finally, I can't take it anymore and retire to my room, claiming that I have a headache. I try to play my violin for a little bit, but I'm so distracted that I keep making mistakes, which upsets me more. I set the instrument in its case and kick my shoes off as I lay down on the bed, mulling everything over, and I soon feel my eyelids growing heavy…

"America!"

I hear the urgent shout as I feel someone gently shaking my shoulders to wake me. My mind immediately goes to the rebels, so I begin to get out of bed and put my shoes on.

"Where are you going?" Aspen asks, his hands still on my shoulders.

"To a safe room," I say, guessing that he has no idea how much we all know about the rebels. Well, I know, at least. I doubt that Maxon had told the other girls so much, but I can never really be sure.

"Why?" he asks, still bewildered.

"Because there is a rebel attack going on?" I ask more than say, now unsure of my assumption.

"Why would you think that, Mer?" he says, finally letting go of me.

"The only time anyone has ever sounded that scared around me is during a rebel attack," I explain.

"Oh," he says, and I'm sure he's uncomfortable with the thought. He was always overprotective. "No, there's not an attack."

I breathe out a sigh of relief as I relax onto the bed. "Then why-"

"I heard noises," Aspen says shortly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I opened the door to check on you, and you were having a nightmare, so I woke you."

I think back to my dream. I don't remember most of it, but I do remember some strange creature that was both Maxon and Aspen pleading with me to love him… love it? It was more disturbing than scary.

"Oh," I say gently. "Um- thank you, I guess."

"Mer," Aspen says, getting on his knees in front of me to be more at my level. "Do… do you love him?" he asks torturously.

I look at Aspen, and I know that I can't lie to him, as much as I might want to.

"No," I say slowly, and Aspen visibly relaxes, "but I'm starting to. And I'm not sure that I want to fight it," I say softly, barely having come to that conclusion myself.

Aspen closes his eyes, his entire face tensing. "Do you love me?" he asks, sounding like he's about to cry.

A tear finds its way down my face. "Yes," I breathe, "but… Aspen, you threw me away. It's not the same anymore, and I don't know that it ever can be."

Aspen buries his face in my lap, not sobbing, but I know he wants to. Suddenly, I feel him decide to do something. I'm not sure how I know, but the set of his shoulders changes, and his breathing steadies.

He looks up at me. "That can change, America," he says menacingly. "I love you. I always will. If you think that I am not fighting this with every fiber of my being, then you are wrong," he practically growls, bringing his lips to mine in a possessive kiss, trying to remind me of what we used to have.

And it is different.

Before, when Aspen would kiss me, everything melted away. I thought of nothing but the feel of him under my arms and his scent as it consumed. Now, though… there is Maxon. While Aspen kisses me now, all I can think about is Maxon. What his reaction will be, how different Aspen feels beneath me. Aspen used to be lean and wiry, but now he is very muscley. He's bulky, where Maxon is defined. I push Aspen away when I discern that I'm wishing it was Maxon kissing me.

"Aspen…" I say so softly I'm not really sure that he can hear me. "No," I say more decisively. "Ignoring the fact that this is literally illegal, even if I hadn't been Selected, you left me. Not even left, you just tossed me aside and almost broke me. I thought you were going to propose, and I was so happy and then you left. And then you had Brenna-"

"What?" he says sharply.

"Oh, you know," I said with a wave of my hand. "I saw you, holding her, the day I left. You moved on, so I did too."

"She tripped, America Singer, and I caught her," he says frustratedly.

I think about what I know about Brenna, and her tripping does not sound surprising in the least.

I put my head in my hands. "Fine. That still doesn't change the fact that you left me alone through all of this, and whatever your reasons were, you can't change that. And Maxon was here to pick up the pieces."

"Maxon," Aspen says disgustedly. "You remember what you thought about him before, right? How stiff he is?"

"Aspen. I'm not going to defend him to you, just like I'm not going to defend you to him, if I tell him," I say sharply, immediately realizing that I have to tell Maxon, if I want to have any kind of chance.

"Mer… are we done? Really? I don't… I don't have a chance?" Aspen asks, and my heart breaks again.

I take his hand in mine. "No," I murmur. "You have a chance. I'm still in love with you. But, Aspen, you need to understand that Maxon has a chance too. A rather good one. But our relationship," here Aspen tenses, "is even more complicated than yours and mine. There are thirty other women here for him to choose from. I need you to let me make this decision on my own. And you need to let me make the decision, I don't want you waiting around for me," I say firmly.

"I will always wait for you. The sky is blue, the sun is bright, and Aspen endlessly loves America. Always," he says softly, but I cannot doubt the sincerity.

"I- I know. Just go, for right now. And I think I'm going to ask to have you not on door duty for me… It's too much. I'll never be able to be alone, because I'll be worried about you barging in here," I say, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

"I understand," Aspen says, not unkindly. He kisses my forehead, then walks out the door.

I check the time, and realize that I'd slept for almost three hours, and it's almost time for dinner. Just as I'm wondering if I should call them, Mary, Anne, and Lucy come into the room, and start getting me ready. I know that I need to talk to Maxon, but I can't figure out how to say it.

Hey, Maxon, just so you know, that guy I told you about, that I'm in love with? He stands outside my door all night, because you want him too. But I think I love you too!

Hey, Maxon, I need you to not freak out, but my ex is in the palace! And honestly, you're dating thirty girls, so shouldn't I get to date two guys?

I sigh as Mary pronounces me finished, and I walk out the door, nearly running into the man I was just thinking about.

"America!" Maxon says, stepping back quickly and apologizing.

"It's fine," I say, taking his proffered arm as we walk toward the dining room. "I'm just… distracted."

Maxon is quiet, and I know he's thinking about our argument last night.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly.

"What was that?" Maxon asks with a slight quirk to his lips.

I roll my eyes, and repeat myself. "I'm sorry… for last night. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, and I know I'm too familiar with you, but I forget we've only known each other for a few weeks and that you're the prince. And I don't like to see you manipulated," I say, wondering if that's what I'm planning on doing to him with Aspen.

Maxon stops walking, and wraps me into a tight hug. His head rests on top of mine. "I'm sorry, too. The fact that you're too familiar with me and that you forget that I'm the prince are two of the reasons I like you so much. And I know that you don't like her, but you need to let me make my own decisions about this. It isn't your job to protect me- if anything, it's my job to protect you," he says, still holding me and kissing the top of my head softly.

I bristle a little at the suggestion that I can't take care of myself, and Maxon knows that and laughs at me. He releases me and lets me take his arm again, but I keep him from walking forward.

"I… I need to talk to you about something," I say timidly.

"My dear, you can talk to me about anything," he says, slightly confused. "What is it?"

"Not here," I say with a frown, too concerned with what I would say to him to complain about his term of endearment. "I was going to tug my ear, but you're here now, so I figured I'd just tell you."

"Alright, then, I'll come to your room after dinner," he says, bowing low to me as we approach the door to the dining room. "After you, Lady America."

I roll my eyes with a smile as I walk through the doors, curtsy to the King and Queen, and sit down next to Marlee and across from Kriss. Maxon and I aren't late, exactly, but we are definitely the last ones there. Marlee and Kriss both look at me with something like jealousy, but also happiness. I am feeling something more like confusion, but I can't ask them about it now. Maybe in the Women's Room, later. We all chatter meaninglessly, and I find myself unable to enjoy the food as I usually do.

Maxon and I occasionally catch each other's gazes, and we smile when we find one staring at the other. Nobody notices, until Maxon winks at me the third time it happens and I giggle. I get several glares from Celeste and Bariel when they see that Maxon is grinning at my giggle, and I see that King Clarkson is also glaring at Maxon.

I flush deeply, and try to ignore Maxon for the rest of the meal, which becomes both easier and harder when Aspen walks in and stands in front of the door. I sigh, and Marlee turns to me, questions swimming in her eyes.

"Later," I whisper. It would be good to have a girl to talk with, but we are competing. I almost smile. Maybe Maxon will have a little bit more understanding for us when he realizes in a competition of his own. I almost just want to go home and forget either of them ever existed.

After dinner, all of us girls go down to the Women's Room and talk together. Kriss, Marlee, and I sit together and, as always, the conversation heads towards Maxon.

Kriss asks me what he's like with me.

"What do you mean?" I ask quizzically. "The same as he is with you, I imagine."

"No, he's not. When I see you both together, he looks so carefree, like he's forgotten that he is the heir to the Illéan throne. When I'm with him, he always seems so preoccupied. And like at dinner, I don't know how you two managed it, but it was like you had a conversation, teasing each other, and you hardly looked at each other!" Kriss says, Marlee nodding in agreement.

"I'm not saying that I'm jealous, or mad," Kriss says, and I do believe her, "but what is it like?"

I smile. "When he is like that, which is definitely not all the time, I lo- he is one of the kindest and most genuine people I have ever met." I stop for a moment, knowing that I was going to say I love him. Do I?

Marlee and Kriss look a little bit shocked, and I know they caught it. "But," I add pointedly. "He is just like anyone else. I'd be willing to bet that no one else has disagreed with him, let alone fought with him. Me calling him shallow the first time we met is nothing compared to some of the arguments we've had. Last night, actually, was pretty bad," I say, biting my lip, wondering if I've said too much.

"But you make up," Marlee points out. "I mean… I know that we're supposed to be competing, but you clearly are his favorite." Marlee doesn't seem upset at all when she says this, but a frown flits across Kriss' face. I sigh.

"I… I don't know," I say, unsure of whether it's for my benefit or theirs. "I came here expecting it to be simple. I didn't want to fall in love with the prince, I only entered because my mom wanted me too," and the man who was essentially my fiance, I add in my head, "and I'm not saying that I have fallen in love with him, but I don't feel nothing. And then there's all of you, you are two of my best friends, and I know that either one of you would be a great Queen, far better than me, so I want to cheer for you, but then I realize that I don't want to go home and now-" I stop myself, realizing that I have said far too much.

"I-I'm sorry, I think I'm just tired," I say hastily.

Marlee leans over and gives me a hug. "It's okay, America. It's hard."

I hug her tightly, then stand up. "It's late, I'm going to turn in. I'll see you in the morning." Kriss smiles tightly as I leave, and I know that she wants Maxon, not just the crown, which makes it much more difficult for me to ignore her.