The chapter opens with all the girls talking to Queen Amberly about wedding preparations.  Yeah, because that’s what’s really important: the number of bridesmaids you have.  Not, ya know, BEING FUCKING QUEEN AND HOW TO DO THAT AND IF ANY OF YOU WOULD BE GOOD AT IT. 

All the other girls are talking about how they want so many bridesmaids, except Celeste who doesn’t want any so everyone will focus on her.

I fumed.  It was rare that we all got to sit and walk with Queen Amberly, and here Celeste was, being a brat and ruining it.

How is she ruining it?  How is her comment any worse than THIS ENTIRE FUCKING CONVERSATION ABOUT BRIDESMAIDS?  She’s stating what her preference would be, just like all the other girls.

And then America gets to show off what a “good” and “real” person she is when she says that the only thing she cares about is having her father give her away in the ceremony.  All the other girls are aghast – just aghast, I tell you – that she’d want something so ordinary.  Even though I still fail to see the difference between going on about this and going on about colors.  (And what’s all the “so ordinary” talk?  You know what’s ordinary, too?  FUCKING BRIDESMAIDS.  SERIOUSLY, WHY ARE WE HAVING THIS CONVERSATION?)

Once the wedding talk dies down, Amerbly ambles off to do vague, undefined “work” because what else could there possible be to talk about except weddings?  I mean, it’s not like whatever work she’s doing MIGHT BE FUCKING IMPORTANT WHEN TALKING TO THE FUTURE QUEEN OF YOUR COUNTRY.  Nope, that’s just silly.

Then there’s more wedding talk, because we just can’t get away from that I guess.  America laments that she’s a five and thus never thought about having a big wedding.

and though I hated the caste system in general

Well, nice of you to tell us that.  We never would have known from the way you just sort of la-dee-da along with it.

“Come on!” [Celeste] yelled, slamming the remote against the couch […]

“Is it just me or she getting worse?” I whispered to Marlee.  We watched as Celeste hit the remote over and over before giving up […]  I guess if I had grown up a Two, that would be something worth getting worked up over.

Fuck off, Brat.  Are you telling me that you’ve never gotten mad and then taken it out on something small?  That happens all the time.  It’s part of human nature.  Everyone does it. 

She’s probably just frustrated from having to deal with America’s constant judgments and glaring.

Marlee has to go to the bathroom, America says she’ll go too, and then Marlee says “nope, never mind, I’ll wait until you’re done.”  America, having the brain of a sea slug, decides this is not worth comment and just goes.  She runs into a guard outside who looks very flustered.  So, we finally found out who Marlee has a crush on, which we’ve known about since last book.  It can’t even be subtle; instead we spend like three pages on the whole “ran into a guard in the hallway, tee-hee” incident.  When something lasts for three pages, especially in a book like this, it’s no longer a hint/Easter Egg.

And..yeah, that’s it.  What a completely and utterly useless chapter.  I mean, the last book had a lot of pointless chapters as well, but they at least popped up later in the book, after the reader is invested.  This is Chapter Two.  Things shouldn’t be this slow in Chapter Fucking Two.