The Selection (The Selection #1) - Kiera Cass Page 0,89
animated than I’d ever seen her. Marlee hovered near a window, looking like one of the many guards dotting the wall. She made no effort to leave her chosen spot but stopped anyone who passed by to chat. A group of Threes—Kayleigh, Elizabeth, and Emily—all turned and waved and smiled. I returned the gesture. Everyone seemed so friendly and happy today.
Except for Celeste and Bariel. Usually they were inseparable, but today they were on opposite ends of the room, with Bariel speaking to Samantha, and Celeste sitting alone at a table, clutching a crystal glass of deep red liquid. I’d obviously missed something between yesterday’s dinner and this afternoon.
I gripped my violin case again and walked toward the back of the room to see Marlee.
“Hi, Marlee. This is something, isn’t it?” I asked, setting down the violin.
“It sure is.” She hugged me. “I hear Maxon’s coming by later to wish Kriss a happy birthday in person. Isn’t that sweet? I’ll bet he has a present, too.”
Marlee went on in her typical enthusiastic way. I still wondered what her secret was, but I trusted her enough to bring up the subject if she really needed to talk about it. We spoke of little nothings for a few minutes until we heard a general clamor at the front end of the room.
Marlee and I both turned, and while she remained calm, I was completely deflated.
Kriss’s dress choice had been incredibly strategic. Here we all were in day dresses—short, girlish things—and she was in a floor-length gown. But the length meant little. It was that her dress was a creamy, almost white color. Her hair was done up with a row of yellow jewels pinned into a line across the front in a very subtle resemblance to a crown. She looked mature, regal, bridal.
Even though I wasn’t entirely sure where my heart was, I felt a pang of jealousy. None of us would ever get a similar moment. No matter how many parties or dinners came and went, it would be rather pathetic to try to copy Kriss’s look. I saw Celeste’s hand—the one that wasn’t clutching her drink—ball into a fist.
The party continued on, and Marlee and I mostly crowd-watched. Surprisingly—and suspiciously—Celeste clung to Kriss, talking up a storm as Kriss circled the room, thanking everyone for coming, even though we really had no choice.
Eventually she made it to the back corner where Marlee and I were standing, soaking up the warm sun from the windows. Marlee, true to form, threw her arms around Kriss.
“Happy birthday!” she squealed.
“Thank you!” Kriss replied, returning Marlee’s affection and enthusiasm.
“So you’re nineteen today, right?” Marlee asked.
“Yes. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate. I’m so glad they’re taking pictures. My mother will love this! Even though we do pretty well, we’ve never had money to have something like this. It’s so beautiful!” she gushed.
Kriss was a Three. There weren’t nearly as many limits to her life as mine, but I’d imagine anything close to this scale would be hard to justify.
“It is impressive,” Celeste commented. “For my birthday last year, I had a black and white party. Any trace of color, and you weren’t even allowed in the door.”
“Wow,” Marlee whispered, obvious envy in the tiny word.
“It was fantastic. Gourmet food, dramatic lighting, and the music! Well, we flew in Tessa Tamble. You’ve heard of her?”
It was impossible not to know Tessa Tamble. She had at least a dozen hit songs. Sometimes we saw videos of hers on TV, though that was frowned on by Mom. She thought we were infinitely more talented than anyone like Tessa, and it irked her to no end that she had fame and money when we didn’t for doing essentially the same thing.
“She’s my favorite!” Kriss exclaimed.
“Well, Tessa’s a dear friend of the family, so she came in and did a concert for my party. I mean, we couldn’t have a bunch of dreary Fives sucking all the life out of the room.”
Marlee gave me a quick sideways glance. I could tell she was feeling embarrassed for me.
“Oops,” Celeste added, looking at me. “I forgot. I meant no offense.”
The sticky sweetness of her voice was infuriating. Once again I was tempted to hit her.... Better not to push it.
“None taken,” I replied, as composed as I possibly could. “Exactly what do you do as a Two, Celeste? I mean, I’ve never heard your music on the radio.”