Page 73 of Solstice

If my heart could have shattered any more, it would have.

“Promise me,” Carter said, glancing between Lex and me. “We are never going to defeat him if we don’t work together. Promise me.”

“I promise.” Lex nodded, glancing at me with sincerity in his eyes.

“I promise,” I agreed and met it with my own.

We had made this same vow before, God knew. But this time, I meant it. This time, Lex and Carter meant it, too.

Act IV

Come, sit thee down upon this flow’ry bed,

While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,

And stick muskroses in thy sleek smooth head,

And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

—Titania, Act IV, Scene I

21

Ivy

APRIL

Istared at myself in the mirror, twisting to the right, then to the left, admiring this catastrophe of a dress. My mother had picked the designer, the hemline, and the details. All I had to do was show up and let them put it on me. It weighed a ton and cost even more due to the overwhelming amount of diamonds embedded in the lacing. I’d admit it made me look like a princess, but it wasn’t me.

I’d get married in cut-off shorts and a tank top as long as I got to have my spouses afterward, as long as the person at the end of the aisle was someone I wanted to marry.

I used to hate Lex, and the ten-year-old year girl inside of me cringed at the thought of saying “I do” to someone who’d only ever made me want to say Idefinitelydon’t. Putting on the dress made it real. In less than a month, it would be legal. I’d worked my whole life to get to Congress, to implement change, to prove to my legacy that I was a worthy addition. But all anyone cared about was this stupid dress and a promise to a man I’d hated for most of my life.

“Suck it in, Kit.” Abigail yanked on the zipper behind our sister, her ginger hair falling over her shoulder.

“I’m trying,” Kit said. “It’s too tight.”

“Mother is going to kill you.” Abigail grimaced. “We only have a few weeks until the wedding.”

“Mother will get over it,” I cut in. “If you need a bigger dress, we’ll get you a bigger dress.”

Abigail and I took after our father’s side of the family—tall and lean with a high metabolism. Kit took after our Aunt Victoria on our mother’s side. She had hips and an ass and big breasts that I had envied in my adolescence. She’d never been a “sample size,” much to the chagrin of our mother and most of the media. Kit loved her curves, and she’d never diet for anyone except herself. Definitely not our mother.

“Give it up, Abigail.” Kit reached back and unzipped it, peeling it off her body before hanging it back up.

“Maybe with another layer of Spanx?” Abigail anxiously picked at her fingers, a tick I was sure annoyed Evelyn Washington to no end.

“If I put any more Spanx on, I’ll be a stuffed sausage.”

The bridal shop attendant came into the dressing room, eyeing a nearly naked Kit. “Everything okay?”

Kit shook her head. “We’re going to need a size twelve.”

The attendant’s fake grin widened. “We don’t carry a size twelve. I’ll have to have it specially made.”

“Great. Get to it.” Kit turned toward me, reaching for her jeans. “I’m done here, right?”

“Wait, come on.” Abigail sulked closer. “We never hang out, the three of us. I miss my sisters.”

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