LITMIR.BIZ

      “SO, LONG STORY SHORT: MORE GUARDS?”

      “Yeah, Dad. Lots more.” I laughed into the phone, though the situation was hardly a funny one. But Dad had a way of making the toughest things light. “We’re all staying. For now anyway. And even though they say they’re starting with Twos, don’t let anyone be careless. Warn the Turners and the Canvasses to stay safe.”

      “Aw, kitten, everyone knows to be careful. After what you said on the Report, I think people will be braver than you’d guess.”

      “I hope so.” I looked down at my shoes and had a funny flashback. Right now my feet were covered with jeweled heels. Five months ago they were wearing dingy flats.

      “You made me proud, America. Sometimes I’m surprised at the things you say, but I don’t know why. You were always stronger than you knew.”

      Something about his voice then was so genuine that I was humbled. No one’s opinion of me mattered as much as his.

      “Thanks, Dad.”

      “I’m serious, now. Not every princess would say something like that.”

      I rolled my eyes. “Uh, Dad, I’m not a princess.”

      “Matter of time,” he shot back playfully. “Speaking of which, how is Maxon?”

      “Good,” I said, fidgeting with my dress. The silence grew. “I really like him, Dad.”

      “Yeah?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Why exactly?”

      I thought for a minute. “I’m not really sure. But part of it is that he makes me feel like me, I think.”

      “Did you ever feel like not you?” Dad joked.

      “No, it’s like … I’ve always been aware of my number. Even when I came to the palace, I obsessed about it for a while. Was I a Five or a Three? Did I want to be a One? But now I’m not conscious of it at all. And I think it’s because of him.

      “He screws up a lot, don’t get me wrong.” Dad chuckled. “But when I’m with him I feel like I’m America. I’m not a caste or a project. I don’t even think of him as elevated, really. He’s just him, and I’m just me.”

      Dad was quiet for a moment. “That sounds really nice, kitten.”

      Boy talk with my dad was a little awkward, but he was the only one back home who I thought saw Maxon more like a person than a celebrity; no one else would get it like he would.

      “Yeah. It’s not perfect though,” I added as Silvia poked her head in the doorway. “I feel like there’s always something going wrong.”

      She gave me a pointed look and mouthed Breakfast. I nodded.

      “Well, that’s okay, too. Mistakes mean it’s real.”

      “I’ll try to remember that. Listen, Dad, I’ve got to go. I’m late.”

      “Can’t have that. Take care, kitten, and write your sister soon.”

      “I will. Love you, Daddy.”

      “Love you.”

      As the girls exited after breakfast, Maxon and I lingered in the dining room. The queen passed, winking in my direction, and I felt my cheeks redden. But the king came along soon after, and the look in his eyes took away any lingering blush.