The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series)

by Tricia Wentworth

  “She’s great, I just don’t see her that way. I have my eye on someone else,” he explains and I’m astounded by both what he said and the number of words he said. That was two whole sentences! And is he implying that I am the someone else? Surely not. Yet here we are, with our bodies practically bumping uglies in the middle of the dance floor.

  “Oh,” is all I can manage.

  “How about you? Do you have your next boyfriends all lined up yet?” He takes a turn asking a question now. Thank goodness.

  Remembering what Gertie said about him knowing how to kiss a woman I admit, “Next implies I would’ve had one before.” I stop to shrug uncomfortably. “So that’d be a no.”

  He shakes his head and with one nod says, “Even better.”

  Before I can ask what he means, the time is up. He removes his hand from my back and I feel my skin instantly go down a few degrees. I can already breathe more comfortably again. He leans in and squeezes my hand before whispering in my ear, “See you later, Regs.”

  I’m in shock at both his kind gesture and his using the name “Regs” for me, which my brother Ashton always uses. It reminds me of home. I’m not sure if that man is precociously precarious or precariously precocious. Danger. Danger in a hot muscular form. Danger I need to stray clear of.

  The next boy doesn’t have a chance as I am an emotional train wreck yet again, this time after Lyncoln. My second to last dance is with Christopher, who reminds me a lot of Lyncoln in that he is more reserved and…calculated? Maybe it’s just the military training thing. He towers over me, but he’s nice and not near as confusing as Lyncoln. He also does nothing to my hormones. My last dance of the evening ends up being with Professor Bennett and I’m beyond glad to have a carefree conversation with him about the evening and our upcoming classes.

  When we are done with our introductory dances, Professor Dougall tells us we have twenty minutes to socialize before President Maxwell will close out the night. I know it’s not much past nine, but I guess they know the later we stay out, the more likely something inappropriate is to happen. I guess that’s why I had to sign that stupid piece of paper and why I have to take the stupid pills.

  I grab another flute of champagne and go find Vanessa, who is all smiles.

  “Maverick is totally like I imagined,” she whispers dreamily which surprises me since she isn’t exactly a girly girl. “What were you doing with Henry? I thought Marisol was going to kill you on the spot. And pretty much all the other girls, too.”

  “I don’t even know.” I look at her confused.

  “Ladies.” Bronson returns to those of us he was talking to before we departed to dance.

  “Bronson. I swear. If you hug her again, I’m going to deck you,” Vanessa warns with a smile. She must know how uncomfortable I was with his touchy-feely-ness.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Bronson says seriously and then turns to look at me, “Not even kidding.”

  “No way.” I smile.

  “Way.” Bronson smiles back. “She packs a mean punch.”

  “Well, I’ve got to hear this story.” I look at Vanessa who just rolls her eyes amused.

  Bronson goes into story mode and has us both laughing. A few others come over to our group and join us. About halfway through, Henry joins our bigger laughing group also, and is followed by at least five girls. I’m not sure if I should be jealous, but I kind of am. We had a great time, but maybe it was my imagination and maybe he’s having a better time with the other girls having had the chance to meet everyone. He literally has a line of girls waiting to get his attention. I can’t compete with that.

  Feeling goosebumps like someone is watching me, I spot Lyncoln from across the room. He’s keeping his distance but is definitely watching me as he talks with a Denver girl. Though he talks to her here and there, every so often he looks back over at me. He’s just a completely frustrating man already and I don’t even really know him. Though he’s talking to one of Marisol’s friends, I haven’t seen him near her at all. I thought at first he was in cahoots with Marisol over the whole tripping fiasco. Now I’m not sure.

  A few stories and conversations later and nearing the twenty minute mark, I realize I have gotten as much time with Henry tonight as I will get and my feet are killing me. I’m not so sure that I didn’t sprain something after all as one foot hurts much more than the other one, the one I had my weight on when I fell. I excuse myself to walk over and switch for a fresh glass of champagne even though my current one is over half full and then head towards the people chatting on the large couches in the far corner. I just need to sit down a moment.

  I find Renae and a few others and decide to sit there with them for a bit while absentmindedly rubbing my ankle. All of a sudden I can tell by the sizzle of danger in the air, or maybe it’s the amazing smell, that Lyncoln is here. His cologne is kind of a woodsy and outdoor smell like at home, but much, much, much, better.

  Not even caring about the others or if he is interrupting, he sits down beside me and looks at me concerned, “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I place my hands back in my lap.

  Without asking, he squats down, carefully moves my dress aside, and reaches for my ankle. He lifts it up resting it on his knee. He then presses on it lightly while rubbing the top of it. I’m in a little bit of pain, but he is definitely making me forget about it. Good thing Frank told me I have pretty feet.

  “See. No biggie.” I shrug, jerk my ankle back, and place my foot back on the floor, trying to get him to stop before we cause a scene. Renae is talking to Adam but gives me raised eyebrows noticing the tension between Lyncoln and me. Another boy/girl pair is on a couch on the other side of us, but pay no attention to us.

  “You good?” Renae asks after a minute.

  “I’m fine. Thanks, girl.” I nod to her and she goes back to her conversation.

  “I don’t think it’s sprained badly, but you may want to ice it,” Lyncoln says bossily not even looking at Renae or giving her the time of day. “I’m sure they’ll make you wear heels again tomorrow.”

  He leans back against the couch putting one leg across the other and an arm along the back of the couch way too close to my back. Is he marking his territory by trying to put his arm around me? Or is this just his usual way with the ladies? Even relaxed he has a laid back air of confidence about him. He is so very confusing. I wish I had even a little experience with the whole flirting thing so that maybe I knew what the heck is going on.

  Using every last ounce of courage I have, I put a sarcastic, sweet smile on my face, turn to him and say, “Lync, honey dearest, what do you think you are doing?” I turn sideways towards him and gesture with my head to his arm behind me, letting him know I see right past him.

  “Just sitting here, babe. What are you doing?” He says “babe” sarcastically and grins an actual grin making me wish he hadn’t. He looks to die for when he grins. It almost makes me catch my breath. And his calling me babe shouldn’t make me feel as giddy as it does, especially when he said it with thick sarcasm.

  “You are frustrating. Do you know that?” I stand up and am about to leave as he laughs, but Professor Dougall calls for our attention for the President’s speech so I sit back down.

  I gesture for him to move his arm but he just grins again and doesn’t move. Anyone who would look over here would think that we were definitely pairing up. Is he really an enemy after all and trying to make it so that no one else approaches me?

  The President begins talking about what an honor it is for us to be here and how proud we should be and lets us know that it will only get harder, but he is confident that the new Presidential Couple are in the room. I get the gist of what he is saying, but am so bothered by Lyncoln and what his true intentions are that I’m only half paying attention.

  When it’s over, we all slowly begin departing. We know we’re supposed to go back to our rooms, but none of us really want to go yet, so we lollygag as we head for the door. This is
the first time we have seen the boys, or any boys, in three weeks. Renae and Adam are standing and shuffling toward the door. I feel exhausted and just want my bed and this night to be over. Like a sugar crash, I think I am having a hormone crash.

  “Goodnight, Lync,” I say, using a nickname for him since he used one for me. I stand quickly and turn to leave.

  Before I can get away, he leans in placing his hand on the small of my back, but appropriately so. “Sweet dreams, Regs,” he says softly. He then allows me room to breathe by letting me walk a few feet in front of him. I feel his gaze on my back and it gives me chills. I fight the urge to turn back and look at him.

  We are starting to file out the door now, but it takes a while as there are almost 50 of us and each of us has a guard standing outside the room. I say goodnight to Vanessa and Attie and a few others while we make our way out. Benjamin makes it a point to say goodbye and I am mystified by his actions yet again. I smile and wave at Oliver, who playfully salutes back. I’m almost to the door and chatting with Renae when I feel a warm and soft hand gently squeeze mine.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you.” I hear Henry’s voice and feel his breath on the side of my neck. “Better go find those slippers.” I can’t see his face, but I know he’s smiling. Before I have a chance to say anything back, a girl named Katie from Denver grabs him by the arm, pulling him in her direction, and starts talking to him.

  I finally get my turn at leaving and am quick to find Sarge and take his arm. We are in the elevator about to go down, but before the door shuts, an arm sticks in the door and Lyncoln boards the elevator with us. He doesn’t have a guard with him which is weird. Sarge and I scoot to the back of the elevator and I keep my hand looped in Sarge’s arm so Lyncoln has no reason to be near me. The door dings at my new floor first. Lyncoln steps aside and does his half-smile thing which I am beginning to think is his signature thing. He rarely fully smiles, but when he does it’s something magnificent.

  “Lync,” I look him in his dark and mysterious eyes as I acknowledge him and then quickly leave the elevator.

  “Regs,” he nods and puts his hand on my back again to help me leave. The spot where his hand touches feels very bare and very hot once again.

  Sarge walks me to my new door. I’m rather quiet and he picks up on it right away. “Are you alright, Ms. Scott? Do you need anything?”

  “I…uh…yeah. I just…I--I don’t know what happened back there?” I explain blushing.

  He chuckles. “Well, it has been awhile, but I believe they call it flirting.” He cocks his head to the side and smiles sheepishly, very much amused in my discomfort.

  “Yeah, but I was flirted with on more than one occasion, I think,” I whisper, totally dumbfounded.

  “Reagan Scott, everyone in this Culling knows that you are a catch and a force to be reckoned with. Everyone, it seems, but you.” He uses the keycard and opens my door for me. The way he is talking to me reminds me almost of a scolding from my dad.

  I rub my temple not knowing what to think. Maybe I do need Tylenol after all. Is there a hormone hangover cure?

  “I know you will choose wisely. Just go with your gut, hun.” He gives my arm a squeeze, opens the door for me, and I walk in.

  Will I choose wisely? Choose? Since when do I have options?

  I don’t even notice my new room or look out the window to see where I was moved to. I just take off my gown, change into pajamas, and collapse onto my bed. It’s early for going to bed, but I am exhausted.

  What just happened back there?

  Why is Marisol the spawn of Satan and still here?

  Why was Benjamin so nice to me when he never was when we were in Omaha?

  Was it my imagination or did Henry and Lyncoln both seem interested in me?

  Sleep finds me a few hours later and I dream of boys wearing suits that smell exceptionally well.

  Chapter 9

  “Good morning, my dear!” Frank and Gertie are at my door at the ungodly hour of 5:30 am.

  “Morning. What are we doing today?” I manage to mumble sleepily.

  “You get to keep us until the Culling is over, so we are here to help you prepare for your day, darling!” Frank slaps his hands together excited and comes in with a rack of clothing.

  Morning people.

  “But it’s Saturday,” I yawn.

  “Honey, you get us every day of the week from here on out until we have a new Madam President.” Gertie gives my hand a squeeze.

  “Now, I know Saturdays are more casual, but I still have ideas. Let’s get you ready for the day,” Frank nods and gets to work.

  ****

  I’m relieved to find that Jamie delivers me to breakfast with just the girls. I’m not ready to face the boys again just yet. Jamie teases me on the way down about my night and how it went, but I just answer yes and no to his questions. I don’t know how to process last night so I try my best not to think about it.

  I’m wearing a soft, magenta colored sweater, skinny jeans, boots, and my makeup is done nicely by Frank and Gertie. My hair is down and curled. I will confess that it’s nice to be pampered and not have to worry about my attire for two days in a row now.

  I grab a glorious chocolatey muffin, some fruit, and a bottle of water and plop down by Vanessa in our usual spot.

  “Okay, spill it,” Renae demands the moment I sit down. She does smile at me though, so there’s that.

  “Good morning. Spill what?” I ask embarrassed and already feel the heat in my cheeks.

  “I was sitting there when Lyncoln was putting moves on you so don’t play silly with me, missy.” She playfully shimmies for effect as Attie sits down next to her obviously interested in my answer too.

  “I--um…well, Marisol stepped on my dress on purpose when I fell and he was worried I might have sprained the ankle I fell on, so he just checked it out for me. That’s all.” I take a drink of water trying to play it cool. “Other than Marisol trying to disrobe me, I don’t even know what happened, so I don’t know what to say.”

  “Well, your ankle wasn’t all he was checking out. Just saying.” Vanessa smiles and winks exaggeratedly making us laugh.

  “I’m surprised you noticed. You were too busy making your own moves.” I look at her knowingly.

  “Speaking of that, what’s the deal with you and Bronson?” Renae asks and I think it’s pretty clear she didn’t miss a thing the entire evening. Now that I think about it, she was always placed to watch things going on around her. She may be more perceptive than I give her credit for.

  “We’ve been good friends for a long time. Our parents are friends. It’s not at all like that. I do love him, but not at all like that,” Vanessa explains.

  “Oh,” is all Renae says. Attie seems quiet so I look to Vanessa for help. I know Henry was “hers” and I didn’t mean to flirt with him and make her mad…it just kind of happened. I can see she is clearly bummed and it makes me feel guilty.

  “Attie, did you have a good time?” Vanessa asks, saving me. I give her a “thank you” look.

  “I did. There are so many cute boys! I’m afraid I might not have made a good enough impression on Henry,” she shrugs and avoids looking at me. “I was just so nervous.”

  Welllll, this just got awkward. Before I can figure out what to say, Elizabeth sits down next to me and we ask her about her evening. October loudly plops down on the other side of Elizabeth.

  “I think everyone in the room was jealous of you, including me!” Renae says nicely to Elizabeth, much to my surprise. I’m sure mentally she’s trying to sabotage Elizabeth, or trying to figure out a way to one-up her.

  “Thanks. I was rather surprised by some of the boys. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it exceeded my expectations.” She smiles and blushes a bit. Then she adds, “I saw Marisol step on your gown, Reagan. I am so sorry. Part of that is my fault.”

  “Don’t be,” I say honestly and reach across to squeeze her hand for extra emphasis. Marisol was mean before I
came to Elizabeth’s rescue.

  “October. How was it?” Renae asks. I’m not used to a cheerful Renae and a moody Attie. Normally, it’s the other way around.

  “It was, meh, satisfactory I suppose. Interesting to learn about the other townships and stuff.” She shrugs and we all laugh. October would probably have had more fun reading in her room.

  Before we have a chance to chitchat more, Elle greets us and tells us that after etiquette class this morning we will have a joined class with the boys all afternoon as well as joint dinner this evening. Most meals and classes, except for etiquette class, from here on out will be with the boys. They were just giving us a minute to decompress after the ball in separating us this morning. I find myself excited to see the boys again, then scold myself. I am not this girl. I am not the girl that loses focus over a boy. I need to get serious if I really want this.

  I’m not here to find a boy. I’m here to win a presidency.

  ****

  After lunch, we meet in the usual classroom and find Professor Zax looking quite pleased with himself. He gets excited about the weirdest stuff. We’re sitting as assigned alternating boys and girls. There are long tables along the back of the room but no lab setup for today.

  The tension of having the boys with us is making it difficult to function and Professor Zax knows it. I know Henry is a few rows in front and to the right of me and Lyncoln is somewhere behind me. I’m sitting in my assigned spot with Abraham on one side and Trent on the other. Trent has me laughing while we wait for class to begin.

  “Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to your afternoon class and your first class together. Congratulations on making it to the halfway point of the Culling.” He claps for us and we join in. “Now, today I bring you a very interesting assignment.” He pulls down a map at the whiteboard at the front of the room.