Vanessa and Marcia happen to be talking to the man I’m looking for, so I join their group and say hello in a break in conversation.
“Ms. Scott. And how are you doing this evening?” he says rather emotionless as usual.
“I would be better if I weren’t about to fail a test, I’m afraid,” I joke and the other girls laugh with me.
I see that quick look of amusement, but I don’t have time to say anything more because the two cabinet members along with none other than the President himself arrive, all wearing proper tuxes.
I remember Elle saying there was a surprise guest. I think I know who that is now. Knowing the girls will swarm to the three new guests, I stay put even though I don’t necessarily want to. I need to find some courage and not put another foot in my mouth before meeting the single most powerful man in the nation. I was friendly but not as formal with Mr. Winters as I should have been. This is a test and I need to focus.
“Ahhh. There he is. Ladies, please excuse me to find some appetizers as I am sure dinner will take a while now,” the evil tester man says and I realize I didn’t ask his name.
I ask Vanessa in case we happen to be tested on that information later and she says his name is Marvin Alexander. She saved my butt there.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch girl after girl meet the President. When I see Marisol woo the President with her false facade, I want to vomit. I take a large sip of my champagne and turn facing the other direction. Maybe not watching would be better.
I only have time to meet one of the cabinet members before Professor Dougall makes an announcement. “Ladies and Gentlemen, please find your seats. I realize all of the introductions have not yet been made, but this is hardly your normal dinner party.” She smiles at the President and we all file to our named seats.
The President, of course, is at the end, and then about five or six girls down is another guest, and so on for the two tables. I’m pleased to find I’m sitting right across from Mr. Winters and five girls down from the right side of the President. Elizabeth is two girls down from the President, and to my selfish dismay, Renae is sitting right next to him. I sit down and place my napkin properly in my lap and sit the appropriate way. Maybe I will pass this test after all.
Yeah right.
“Ladies. I trust you’ve had a good stay here,” the President makes small talk as we eat. I notice his rather large watch and smile wondering if there is a monitor in there. Probably not!
Elizabeth pitches in with the appropriate answers and realizing five people away I won’t really get a shot to say much, I decide to talk to Mr. Winters instead. He seems to be making this hard on us as he is only giving one-word answers to the girls around me as they try to get him to talk. I like a good challenge so I decide to take a turn.
“Mr. Winters,” I begin. “Do you know if the mountains are already getting snow?”
“I don’t,” he says shortly.
“You mean you don’t take skiing trips when you aren’t testing us?” I ask sarcastically while I finish up my salad and wait for the entrée. I know no one skis much anymore and that those resorts on the mountains are a thing of the past, but I know in order to pass our test we must be able to make proper small talk with our guests. I have no idea why I just asked about skiing of all things, but carrying on small talk with Mr. Winters is a feat! His short answers are tormenting to an ongoing conversation.
“No,” he responds with one whole word but his eyes are dancing with amusement. Is he trying to get me to fail?
“How old are your kids?” I squint my eyes at him not giving into his dismissiveness.
“28, 26, and 24,” he responds shortly.
“All married off I assume?”
“Yes.”
I swear if he gives me a yes or no answer again I am going to kick him in the shins under the table.
“Any grandchildren?” I keep going but realize that I’m rapidly running out of questions and have no idea what to say next.
“Yes,” he says almost smiling. Now I’ve about had it. No more of this yes or no answer business.
“Planning any more late night visits to us, Mr. Winters?” Anytime another girl would pitch in, would be great. Neither girl on either side of him seems willing to hop in and help me out.
“Actually, yes,” he nods his head.
“Fabulous,” I say with sarcasm then try to harass him back. “I would like to dress accordingly. Not on a Friday?” I smile knowing that only he knows the inside joke.
“I cannot disclose that information to you, Ms. Scott.” He smiles and gives a soft chuckle. “I think you will be readily prepared regardless.”
I laugh and then in a voice that is completely polite but entirely sarcastic I say, “Now, Mr. Winters. A simple yes or no would have sufficed.”
He shakes his head and tries not to laugh. I hear a chuckle from the end of the table and see the President watching our interaction looking quite entertained.
“And this delightfully sassy young lady giving our Mr. Winters grief must be Ms. Scott,” he smiles and I’m immediately embarrassed. Especially if he knew the inside joke about the pajamas…or lack thereof. I blush what I am sure is a bright red.
“Yes. Pleased to meet you, President Maxwell. Thank you for the lovely watch,” I smile knowing he has probably heard that line numerous times tonight.
“You are most welcome.” He winks. “Are you liking your stay here?” he asks genuinely.
“Yes. Of course I miss my family too. But, this is the opportunity and chance of a lifetime.” I think of seeing Ashton and how good it felt to talk to him when he was here. “And those beds you have for us make up for missing my family! It’s hard to miss them when I am so spoiled.” As I finish he laughs along with a few of the other girls, Elizabeth being the only one who really seemed interested in what I was saying. I already appreciate her kindness.
“I remember the feeling well,” he begins, “I came from Galveston so I was not used to being pampered either.”
“Your Culling took only three months if I remember correctly?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going.
Elizabeth nods her head in agreement with me.
“Yes. It went rather quickly once I finally won over the heart of my dear Essie, may she rest in peace.” He smiles. “Ahhh. To be young. Are you ladies looking forward to meeting the gentlemen?”
I smile at the other girls while we all nod our heads yes. “I think I speak on behalf of all of us when I say that the answer to that question would be a resounding ‘yes’.”
He chuckles and winks at me again, “I think they are all raring to meet you as well.”
The way he says it makes me feel like he’s talking to me specifically. Like the boys would want to meet me in particular. How odd. He’s a charmer, that one. I almost want to believe him, too! No wonder the people love him if he goes out of his way to make everyone feel special.
We all smile, all taken in with him. Renae asks him a question about Henry being in the Culling and then someone else chimes in and I lose his interest. I’m glad I got what little time I did have with him.
****
Exhausted, I take off my heels and flop on my bed. I think I greeted everyone. I used the correct silverware when I needed to. I only got to talk to the President for a little bit. And when I did, he called me sassy. I’m not sure that is a good start, but at least it’s a start. From appearances, I should have passed my test. If Professor Dougall could listen in, and I know she can and more than likely will, I’m sure I utterly failed. She threatened us beforehand about proper conversations and how to properly maintain those conversations and told us our grade was dependent on it.
Ugh.
I take off my dress and change clothes. I have only slept a couple of hours when we are called for another fitness test. I quickly change and follow the girls to our training room for a run. Although the lights are blaring inside, it is completely dark out the windows.
Soon after
, we are called for a written test at 5 am over the evening before. We are asked questions about our guests along with the basics. None of us have slept much after having a fitness test at 1 am and only sleeping a few hours. I’m not sure what the point of all this is, other than to make us tired.
After that, we are given another written test, this time on each other. Then we are given a light lunch and another fitness test. At this point, I’m positive they’re trying to wear us down and see how we do when we are tired. Unfortunately for me, that isn’t good. I’m a monster tired.
We have classes all afternoon and then dinner. Most of us are very tired and ready for bed, but then we are called to Professor Zax to work in groups on a lab regarding Trident DNA. All of us are tired, and girls, so biting people’s heads off is standard operating procedure and there is a bit of tension in the room.
After completing that and all of us riding on maybe three hours of sleep, we finally get back to our rooms at 10 pm. I collapse immediately. At midnight we have another fitness test. At 2 am, directly following the fitness test and a shower, Mr. Winters and Elle arrive for a verbal. At 6 am we are given another written test on leadership and past Cullings. It lasts four hours. By noon I’m drinking iced tea like I need it to survive, willing the caffeine to please enter my bloodstream. In our afternoon classes, we are told we will have a cumulative test at 8 pm.
I take my time through that test knowing there will be some girls who will rush through it and finish quickly just so they can finally get some sleep. Tensions are high and we are all deliriously tired. The Candidatorial Ball is only a few days away and ten more of us will be going home, yet all we do is test after test after test after test. I hope I passed. I really want to make it to Friday.
Just four more days.
****
On Tuesday morning, five girls are missing: two from Vegas, one from Detroit, and two from Marisol’s group of friends, but not Marisol herself, unfortunately. Chrys and October have officially joined our group and sit with us at lunch now. We are all weary but all happy to have made it this far. I wonder when the other five of us will be going. At this point, I just really want to know if I’ll make it to Friday. I know Elle alluded to the fact that I would be around for a while, but I’m still nervous. Making it to the halfway point means my family is promoted again, and as a bonus, I get to meet the boys.
Yes, there’s definitely that.
After lunch during etiquette class, Professor Dougall gives us a long speech about what is and is not allowed with the boys during the rest of the Culling. She informs us that we will all be going on contraceptives immediately. Apparently in the third Culling, there were two girls that wound up pregnant. So they are putting us on birth control for extra prevention. Seems a little much to me, but I obviously don’t have much experience in the boy department. I can’t imagine going that far with someone I’ve just met, but I guess for the other experienced girls here it must be a conversation that needs to be had.
We then start our dance lessons for the ball, which seems to put life back into us after the uncomfortable spiel we just had to sit through. We learn the basics and dance with one another since there are no boys to practice with. Professor Dougall stays on us and more than once picks on me critiquing my “hold.” Not letting her get to me, I head to dinner feeling somewhat rejuvenated and excited for the ball. Contraceptives and all.
Sitting around eating brownie sundaes for dessert, I feel grateful that my circle of friends has made it thus far. And giddy too, as I think about what Friday brings.
“Do you think they will tell us which 25 boys are still in it?” Attie asks excitedly.
“I hope so,” Chrys says in matching excitement.
“I can’t wait. Y’all are great and all, but I’m ready for some better-lookin’ scenery,” Marcia laughs and wiggles her eyebrows.
Vanessa is sitting across from me and has her eyebrows furrowed watching something. I turn to see what she is staring at and apparently Marisol and Elizabeth are having a bit of a disagreement. Elizabeth turns to walk away but Marisol grips her arm rather hard.
They are loudly whispering to one another although not loud enough to hear.
“Those two don’t really get along. Never have,” Vanessa explains to me.
“I can’t imagine why,” I say sarcastically while seeing Elizabeth try to turn away again. She looks on the verge of tears. I’m sure Elizabeth’s beauty has been a major source of jealousy for Marisol.
Without even really thinking about it, I’m suddenly moving. I understand what Marisol is doing. Marisol knows Elizabeth is her biggest threat. So she is trying to get Elizabeth to act out, maybe even hit her, in order to make her look bad or even get kicked out of the Culling. I’m not sure what she is saying, but it can’t be pretty. I hear Vanessa on my heels as back-up as I hurry to make it in time.
“Your mother was a SLUT,” Marisol spits out at Elizabeth as I come close enough to hear.
Elizabeth lifts up her free hand like she is ready to either slap her or deck her, but I grab her elbow from behind, giving it a sound squeeze and letting her know I’m there.
In surprise, Marisol loses her grip on Elizabeth’s other arm. I take advantage and quickly move so I’m standing between them.
“Oh, imagine that. Perfect little Reagan to the rescue,” Marisol glares. “Stay out of this and mind your own business.”
“Oh,” I begin, using the same exact tone with her that she just used on me, “You mean saying hateful things trying to make Elizabeth hit you because you know she’s prettier than you and you can’t win against her, so you want her out of the Culling before we meet the boys? You mean that business?”
She glares at me venomously and I return it not backing down an inch. I am so sick of this girl. Why the heck is she even still here? She’s fake from her eyelashes to the stupid nice girl she portrays. From day one she has acted holier than everyone else and has looked down on everyone. I’m not sure if her nose is naturally angled upwards at the tip or if it got stuck that way after carrying it so far in the air all the dang time. She’s stuck up and a snob. Those are not opinions, they are facts.
Finally, she breaks our staredown saying, “You are making a HUGE mistake, Reagan.” She gestures with her hands at the word huge and storms out of the room.
Vanessa is standing beside Elizabeth and lets out a chuckle. “Here I thought you would need backup, Reagan. Turns out, she might have. You just destroyed her.”
I turn and smile at them both, taking a big inhale of air as I do. “I am just so sick of her insolence.”
Elizabeth is still fighting back tears but tries to smile at me, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Did you get a brownie? Would you like to sit with us?” I offer. “Don’t let her get to you. She is one of the meanest people I have ever had the dis-privilege of meeting.”
She nods. “That’d be nice. Thanks.”
And just like that, our group befriended the beautiful girl that will beat us all.
****
The next day, we have more tests. I have been tested on everything from my favorite color to the complex DNA structure of those of us showing immunity to Trident. Thursday and Friday are prep days for the ball, so we have comprehensive tests all day on Wednesday. By the time I finish what feels like my thousandth test since leaving Omaha, I don’t even care if I passed or answered the questions correctly. At the end of our etiquette test and after five straight hours of testing, Professor Dougall hands out our contraceptives and stops us for a quick announcement before we leave.
“Tomorrow at varying times, you will be meeting with the Board of Directors for a panel to review your performance thus far in the Culling. Those of you who will not be making it will be immediately dismissed. Those of you that have the privilege of continuing on will be given an attendant to help you properly appear at the Candidatorial Ball. Please get your rest and be on time tomorrow. Congratulations in advance for those of you moving on. T
his week has been hard, but it’s about to get better.” She cocks her head to the side and smiles, adding, “For a little bit anyway.”
After dinner Marcia and I are walking down our hallway feeling rather sober, excited to meet the boys, but still sober about the panel.
“In all seriousness Marcia, I don’t want to go home yet. And I don’t want to say goodbye to any of our friends either. Especially you. Of all the girls here, you just seem to get me,” I say dreading the next day.
“Reagan. You aren’t going anywhere, hun,” she stops me and holds onto my arm looking at me seriously for once. “You deserve this. You are a leader without trying to be. Who organized the bunch of us who sit together? Who aces every test we have to take and scored the highest on our stupid etiquette test? Who stood up for Elizabeth yesterday? That’s all you. You’ll make it.”
Sniffling back some tears, I smile at her, “No need to get all girly on me. Cripes.”
This makes her smile. “Now, if one of us goes home, it’s me. So I’m going to go change into some jammies and you are going to invite me in for some tea and we are going to stay up chatting, girl. We are both nervous for tomorrow anyway.”
Even though we are both exhausted from the week, we do just that, staying up laughing and sharing with one another. We talk about our families. We talk about the other girls. We talk about the boys. Marcia tells me that although the boys from Seattle are funny and intelligent, they aren’t the type a woman just swoons over. I warn her to stay away from Benjamin. The only thing we don’t talk about is the Culling itself. We both seem to know that we are being monitored or at least that we shouldn’t say anything too bad. We do laugh and joke about Dougall and the sex talk she had to give us before handing out birth control like candy though.
By the time she leaves my room, she has me rolling in fits of laughter and I’m feeling much better about tomorrow. I mean after all, if a girl like Marisol is still here, then chances are good that both Marcia and I will make it to Friday. I know what it would mean to our families and for Marcia’s project. And I know what it would mean to me.
The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series) Page 14