“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.
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