The Girl Who Lost

Chapter 5, Kriss

Surprise! Didn't think I would update, did you? Ha ha.

Maxon looked like an angel. His golden hair was slicked back, and his tight tuxedo defined his strong arms. 

He looked over at me and winked. Heat crept up my cheeks as I averted my eyes and focused on the wine in front of me. As I took a sip, the world sort of faded, and there was Maxon, standing tall. Right in front of me, with a bright smile overtaking his face.

He put a hand on my shoulder and guided me to the dance floor. It was empty. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an orchestra appeared and started playing the slowest music I had ever heard. He put a hand on my waist as I looped my arms around his neck. We swayed to the music for a moment before he dipped his head downwards and tilted my chin. I closed my eyes, anticipating the sweet kiss that would soon be on my lips. We were getting closer, 

and closer, 

and closer. . .

Suddenly, the arms around my waist disappeared. I opened my eyes, only to see the orchestra gone and America playing the violin instead. Maxon was right in front of her, with an adoring smile on his face. She stopped playing, and pulled Maxon down for the kiss that I lost.

I screamed.

I woke up with a cold sweat running down my face. I was panting. I'd been getting the same dream for over a month, and it appeared that it would continue to haunt me. I couldn't take this.

"Miss? Are you alright?"

Mabel, our housekeeper, was standing over my bedside with a concerned look on her face.

"I'm fine, Mabel."

She still seemed unsure, but nodded her head anyway. She placed a cup of tea on my bedside table. 

"Thank you," I said. "You can go now."

She nodded again and scurried out the door.

I got up and put on my thin night-robe. As I walked to my dresser table, I caught my reflection. My brown hair was a nightmare; sticking out in odd places and very tangled. My brown eyes were nothing but pools of muddy sadness. I couldn't remember the last time I smiled. 

I thought that after I left the Selection, I'd start a new life without Maxon even touching my thoughts. But it was the opposite. I sulked all day, and the only thing on my mind was Maxon. I couldn't get over him. His voice, his arms, his laugh. Our hushed conversations, our quiet kisses, the messages conveyed through our eyes. 

God, I thought I had him. I thought I'd be his queen. I honestly believed he would propose. But he didn't, he just didn't. 

He just had to make me fall for him, didn't he?

I headed to the dining room without even bothering to take off my nightgown. I had no energy. I wasted it all on him.

Dad was chewing on a croissant and editing his manuscript for his new book. Mom was reading as she sipped on her coffee. As soon as they saw me, the lightened up.

"Krissie!" Mom said. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"Kriss, darling, try the apple tarts. Elina prepared them; they are divine," Dad said.

"Sure."

I reached for a pastry. I brought it close to my mouth, but I didn't bite into it.

Because I had an idea.

"Mom, dad. Listen. . . over the past month, I haven't been myself. My thoughts have been gloomy, and I've been dreaming about Maxon. You can probably tell that I'm heartbroken," I said.

They nodded, but they looked very concerned.

"Mom, dad. . . I need a vacation."

"Vacation?" They asked in unison.

"Preferably Italy."

"Italy?!"

They looked at each other, communicating and reaching a agreement with their eyes.

Dad spoke. "Italy, it is."