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I study his face. “What happened between you and Tess?”
Day stares at the wall across from us, lost in thought, and I have to tap his foot with mine to snap him out of it. “Tess kissed me,” he mutters. “And she feels like I betrayed her . . . for you.”
My cheeks redden. I close my eyes, forcing the image of them kissing out of my thoughts. This is so stupid. Isn’t it? Tess has known Day for years—she has every right to kiss him. And hadn’t the Elector kissed me too? Hadn’t I liked it? Anden suddenly feels a million miles away, like he doesn’t matter at all. The only thing I can see is Day and Tess together. It’s like a punch to the stomach. We’re in the middle of a war. Don’t be pathetic. “Why would you tell me that?”
“Would you rather I kept it a secret?” He looks ashamed, and he purses his lips.
I don’t know why, but Day never seems to have a problem making me feel like a fool. I try pretending that it doesn’t bother me. “Tess will forgive you.” My words, meant to be comforting and mature, sound hollow and fake instead. I passed the lie detector test without a hitch while I was under arrest—why’s it so hard for me to deal with this?
After a while, he says in a quieter voice, “What do you think of him? Honestly?”
“I think he’s real,” I say, impressed with how calm I sound. Glad to steer our conversation in a different direction. “Ambitious and compassionate, even if it makes him a little impractical. Definitely not the brutal dictator the Patriots said he’ll become. He’s young, and he needs the Republic’s people on his side. And he’s going to need help if he’s going to change things.”
“June, we barely got away from the Patriots. Are you trying to say we should help Anden more than we already have—that we should keep risking our lives for this goddy rich stranger you barely know?” The venom in his eyes as he spits out the word rich startles me, making me feel like he’s insulting me too.
“What does class have to do with this?” Now I’m irritated too. “Are you really saying you’d be glad to see him dead?”
“Yes. I would be glad to see Anden dead,” Day says through gritted teeth. “And I’d be glad to see every single person in his government dead too, if it meant I could have my family back.”
“That’s not like you. Anden’s death won’t fix things,” I insist. How can I make him see? “You can’t lump everyone into the same category, Day. Not everyone working for the Republic is evil. What about me? Or my brother and parents? There are good people in the government—and they’re the ones who can spearhead permanent changes for the Republic.”
“How can you possibly defend the government after everything they’ve done to you? How could you not want to see the Republic collapse?”
“Well, I don’t,” I say angrily. “I want to see it change for the better. The Republic had its reasons in the beginning for controlling the people—”
“Whoa. Wait a minute.” Day holds up his hands. His eyes are now alight with a rage I’ve never seen. “Say that to me again. I dare you. The Republic had its reasons in the beginning? The Republic’s actions are reasonable?”
“You don’t know the whole story about how the Republic was formed. Anden told me how the country started from anarchy, and that the people were the ones who—”
“So now you believe everything he says? Are you trying to tell me that it’s the people’s fault that the Republic’s the way it is?” Day’s voice rises. “That we brought all this goddy crap on ourselves? That’s the justification for why his government tortures the poor?”
“No, I’m not trying to justify that—” Somehow, the history sounds much less viable than it did when Anden was telling it.
“And now you think Anden can fix us with his half-wit ideas? This rich boy’s going to save us all?”
“Stop calling him that! It’s his ideas that might do it, not his money. Money doesn’t mean anything when—”
Day points a finger right at me. “Don’t ever say that to my face again. Money means everything.”
My cheeks flush. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Because you’ve never been without it.”
I wince. I want so desperately to respond, to explain that that’s not what I meant. Money doesn’t define me, or Anden, or any of us. Why couldn’t I have said that? Why is Day the only person I have trouble making a coherent argument to? “Day, please—” I begin.
He jumps off the counter. “You know, maybe Tess was right about you.”
“Excuse me?” I snap back. “What is Tess right about?”
“You might have changed a little over the last few weeks, but deep down, you’re still a Republic soldier. Through and through. You’re still loyal to those murderers. Have you forgotten how my mother and brother died? Have you forgotten who killed your family off?”
My own anger flares. Are you purposely refusing to see things from my point of view? I hop off the counter to face him. “I never forget anything. I’m here for your sake, I gave up everything for you. How dare you bring my family into this?”
“You brought my family into this!” he yells. “Into all of this! You and your beloved Republic!” Day spreads his arms out. “How dare you defend them, how dare you try to reason with yourself over why they are the way they are? It’s so easy for you to say that, isn’t it, when you’ve lived your entire life in one of their high-rise palaces? I bet you wouldn’t be so quick to logic it all out if you’d spent your life digging up trash to eat in the slums. Would you?”
