Hey I just met you and this is crazy, but you're about to be inducted into a post-apocalyptic breeding program so you might as well get paired with that awkward guy that's been trying to protect you even though I'm a soldier in the army that conquered your people...
Congrats to Argus on the worst marriage proposal ever:
Argus sighed. "Look, Mae. I told you I'm still trying to help you. I want you to believe me." He reached across the table, knotting his fingers through hers. His expression was so earnest that she let him.
"Then get my brother out of here."
"I can't. But I can protect you." He wet his lips, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looked nervous, but she supposed she couldn't blame him. Today didn't feel right to anybody. "I⦠I saw the census. I know you turn sixteen in two months. I talked to Doctor Malcolm. He'll set it all up, make sure." His hand tightened around hers. "When the time comes, you won't have to marry a stranger. You can marry me."
Mae jerked her hand away. "What?"
"I told you I'd protect you. At least this way your first husband will be someone that you know, someone you can trust."
"Trust?" She pushed to her feet. Snatching up the cup, she threw it at his head, but he ducked easily. People were staring at them now, but she didn't care. "Is that what you wanted all along? Why you were helping us?"
She needed something else to throw at him. She needed to get out of here. But the music had started to play, a tinny crackling march coming from the old radio on the stage. The brides and grooms were making their way out of the hall. Sera wore a dress that she had borrowed from someone in the village. She looked different in it, prettier. Garrett was escorting her by the arm, but he was dressed like one of them, wearing one of the gray buttoned shirts that all the soldiers wore. They were smiling, at least more than the other couples were, but as they passed he still wouldn't look Mae in the eye.
Her father wasn't doing anything either, just sitting at the picnic table and staring at his hands. There was a bruise on his forehead where the Senator had pressed a gun to it. Maybe he thought if he made eye contact with anyone they would shoot him right here.
She couldn't help him and she couldn't help Garrett. She almost sat back down, but Argus was still there, still looking up at her like he wanted to argue. But she knew who he was now, knew what side he'd chosen. As if there'd ever been any doubt.
Turning away from the table in disgust, she found her cup in the grass. At least there was wine.