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Selected

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by Barb Han




  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Excerpt

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover more Entangled Teen books… Transcendent

  Rival

  Pax Novis

  Garden of Thorns

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Barb Han. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  10940 S Parker Rd

  Suite 327

  Parker, CO 80134

  rights@entangledpublishing.com

  Entangled Teen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Brenda Chin and Candace Havens

  Cover design by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Cover photography by KrisCole and KostyaKlimenko/Deposit Photos

  ISBN 978-1-68281-541-0

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition February 2020

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.

  xoxo

  Liz Pelletier, Publisher

  Chapter One

  2040. Country of Maine, COA—Countries of America.

  “I had that nightmare again.” I turn to my best friend, Adalynn Waters, whose face almost disappears into her disorganized mess of a locker. Even now, the dream is so real to me a cold chill races down my back. I have to remind myself that my eyes are open and I’m wide awake. I clutch my stomach with enough force to head off the rising bile.

  Adalynn pulls her head out of her locker and blinks as if she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

  “It’s the one where I’m being hauled in front of Mr. Davidson and he sentences me to death,” I say, making eyes at her. My name’s Victoria Faith Aldridge, but my friends call me Tori.

  “First of all, a headmaster can’t hand down a death sentence. Only a judge can do that in, like, civil court or something.” Adalynn twists her face, giving me that look she does when she tries to use logic to calm me.

  I roll my eyes. Her dad is a lawyer. She should know that the death penalty is only delivered in criminal court. “That isn’t how it works.”

  “You know what I mean. Maine’s foremost prep school is probably the safest place in the country.” She elbows me. My best friend is bright and athletic, a soccer player. Her long blond hair is always neatly pulled back in a ponytail. It swishes back and forth as she cocks her head to the side and smiles like I should feel better now that she’s handed down her wisdom. She adjusts her hairband and checks her face in the mirror on the inside door of her locker, figuring this conversation is over since I don’t respond.

  I’m busy willing my body to stop shaking. Lucky for me, Adalynn’s too busy applying pink passion lip gloss to notice.

  “Besides, bad dreams aren’t real. Aren’t they just a manifestation of some deep-down fear, or something? You’re probably stressed about performing at the pep rally.”

  “Dance is the thing I feel the most confident about.”

  “Then you’re afraid you failed the Lit test, but we all know you didn’t. English is one of your best subjects,” she says with a sigh. Guilt smacks me because I know how hard she has to study to pass. “Seriously, Tori, it’s fine. You can relax. We’ll find out grades in a minute, and you’ll do great.” She doesn’t say that I always do, but we both know it’s true. It doesn’t stop me from stressing out about tests with everything I have at stake.

  I clear my throat, doing my best to snap myself out of this funk.

  “Um—hello.” Adalynn waves her hand in front of my eyes.

  “Grades post today?” I’d forgotten all about those. Dread settles around my shoulders like a blanket of molasses. I’m going to fail at some point and end up tossed out of school, letting my family down. Their livelihood depends on me being here and doing well.

  “Are you listening to me or blanking out again?” Adalynn shuts her locker, hard. The noise startles me.

  “Of course I’m listening.” I play it as cool as I can under the circumstances. Some days I think Adalynn should’ve signed up for drama instead of athletics, even though she’s one of our best soccer players. She got into Easton because of her skills on the pitch, not the classroom. She understands my pressures. Here, being the best means everything, and I have even more pressure to excel than most because I could lose my sponsorship.

  If I fail, my mother and brother—the only family I have—lose support. That means no food or shelter, like it has been ever since my dad died. The two of them will be back to living on the streets, the way it was before I got Selected to Easton. Fending for themselves will be next to impossible without the right connections. So many people are struggling now. I’d basically be throwing them to the wolves.

  “They should already be up. What’s taking Mrs. Swank so long?” Adalynn motions to the corkboard next to the solid oak door four lockers down. “Except that she loves to torture us by making us wait.”

  “Did you hear about Lillian Thompson?” I ask, trying to redirect. She’s in the Sponsored program just like me.

  Adalynn flashes her eyes at me. “Yes.”

  “She was a strong student.”

  “That’s true,” she admits.

  “And a great swimmer,” I add.

  “Just because she got tossed out of here doesn’t mean the same thing will happen to you,” she argues.

  I shoot her a look of disbelief.

  “We don’t even know the circumstances,” she adds.

  “She had a bad meet and then failed a test,” I say. “And she’s the second one this semester to get the boot.”

  We never hear what happens to kids who wash out. We live in dorms, and Easton tightly controls our communications. I’m guessing the kids are sent home and back to the lives they had before signing contracts to come here. I involuntarily shudder. How much worse would it be to go back to having nothing, literally just scraps to eat every day, after getting used to all this. I’m less concerned about me than I am my family. My being here provides a better life for them.

  “Okay, fine. But when have you ever gotten anything lower than an A?” She says it like that solves all my problems.

  “I hear Councilwoman Snyder came by personally to witness Lillian packing up her things.” If rumor serves true, the councilwoman has a lot riding on the Sponsored program’s success.

  “It’s her pet project.” Adalynn shrugs, and her ponytail swishes. “I guess she feels like she has to see it th
rough. My dad has to work with her sometimes. He never actually says anything bad about her, but he always comes home tired and stressed after.” She gasps. “Did you hear what happened to Councilman Destin’s family?”

  “No. What?” He is the head of the council that gives guidance to the Headmaster.

  “Someone tried to kill him but got his wife and kids instead.” Adalynn swishes her ponytail.

  “That’s awful.” I don’t know him, but I can’t imagine losing my family.

  The first bell rings. We better get moving to class. No one does, though. Test scores at Easton are like handing out free food to the starving. No one plans to leave that hallway without theirs. Junior year grades are that important to college admissions, and we have a pep rally next period, anyway.

  Grades are not up yet. I failed this time. I’m certain. My heart fists in my chest. Breathing hurts when I think about what might happen to my family and how that would be my fault.

  My nightmares are coming more frequently, and they always throw me off balance. The last time I mentioned them to Adalynn, she reminded me that Trevor’s and my birthday was coming up. April twenty-fourth is my least favorite day of the year. I miss my twin brother.

  The second bell rings.

  Adalynn and I need to go soon if we want to make it to class on time.

  “Seriously, is Swank going to post the scores today at some point? This is late even for her,” Adalynn whines again, but I know she’s stressing.

  “You studied for this. You’ll pass.” I don’t mind the distraction. It keeps me from thinking about my real problems.

  The oak door to English class swings open, and everyone is suddenly fascinated by what’s inside their lockers or on the shiny white floor tiles underneath their black patent leather shoes. Mrs. Swank takes two steps out of the room and then turns to the bulletin board. Tension is thick as she posts a piece of paper with grades. A few boys pick imaginary lint off their navy slacks, trying to act casual. It doesn’t work. It’s so obvious what they’re doing, and I’m sure Swank sees it, too.

  This school has uniforms. Everyone wears the same clothes, but that’s where the similarities stop. There are five groups at school.

  Cerebrals think. All. The. Time. They’re so deep in thought, they’ll run right into me in the hallway. It’s annoying. I’m always having to keep an eye out for them. They examine and analyze every test grade and can recite their GPAs and College Readiness scores on a finger snap.

  Athletes might act all casual about grades and schoolwork, but they’re super competitive about everything. Every. Thing. And that means grades, too.

  Tech Nerds are always fidgeting with some gadget. Some days, being at Easton is like living in the video game Frogger, where the frog tries to make it to the other side of the street while trying not to be run down in traffic.

  Jaxon Donovan, my other best friend, is a Tech Nerd. He constantly sneaks vintage games onto my AllinOne device. I’m always warning him about it, too. If I’m caught with contraband on my AllinOne, the headmaster will notify my sponsor. Anger my sponsor, and my entire future is in jeopardy. I’ve told him a million times, and yet it never sinks in. Jax laughs when I’m stressed. He doesn’t think there’s anything I can do to be kicked out. I’m not so sure.

  Then, there are the Legacy kids, who are here solely because one of their relatives attended in the past. They spend most of their time partying and hanging around with other Legacies. They don’t have to rely on good grades for college. Their parents are connected to important people. When the time comes, they’ll use their connections to network. Everything comes easily to them, and they don’t mind being obvious about it. Of course, Easton is the most competitive high school in the country, so everyone wants to do well so they can get into college, gain approval from parents, or just plain old brag.

  And finally, there are the ones like me, the Sponsored. We make up less than one percent of the student population, and 100 percent of us are required to live here.

  We are Selected because of a special talent we have that others don’t. Mine is dance, and I have a major competition coming up next month, which is why I spend every free moment in the studio practicing.

  Adalynn grabs my hand and ushers us toward the crush of people gathering around the corkboard. My heart is pounding because I keep waiting for that one screwup that gets me kicked out. Sponsored kids are always walking a tightrope.

  I hear whispers as I walk down the hall, but no one comes at me directly. Adalynn thinks it’s because I’m pretty. Her words, not mine. I have plenty of flaws, and there are more than I care to count. First of all, my ears are too big. They stick out when my hair is piled on top of my head in a bun, which is every day.

  I hear grumbling as people stare at their grades, and my stomach sinks to my toes. Someone bumps into my shoulder a little too hard. I don’t know who, but I already know why.

  “Excuse me,” I say as sarcastically as possible, but he doesn’t bother to look at me. I can tell his social group by his haircut and crisp, new uniform. Legacy.

  I can hear the whispers, the dread in their quiet voices. I see the way they look at me as I walk past. I don’t have to see my exact grade to realize that I broke the curve again. I’m surprised I did so well, since half of the grade was from essays. I totally thought I’d failed.

  But then Adalynn would probably remind me that my biggest fear is that I’ve failed and that it’s never true. After rolling her eyes and swishing her ponytail, she’d tell me how my fears were getting out of control.

  Adalynn and I do a quick check of the posted page. Grades are listed from highest to lowest. Adalynn doesn’t look at me as she covers a frown. I’m right about the curve. Her grade is halfway down the sheet. Mine is at the top.

  I want to apologize.

  An announcement over the loudspeaker reminds us to head to the gym for the pep rally. My dance teacher wants us to have as much performance practice as possible, so I have to do my routine. I’d rather dance for strangers than my own schoolmates. Very few people like me here. They’re always waiting for me to fail.

  “I gotta go,” I say. Adalynn elbows me and nods. I follow her gaze to the hottest and most popular guy in school, Caius Fitch. To make matters worse, we make eye contact, which basically causes my heart to leap into my throat and my cheeks to flame. This is the second time in two days this has happened. Adalynn is convinced he has been checking me out. Have I mentioned that my best friend is crazy?

  Suddenly, the tile floor is very interesting to me as I rush down the hall toward the locker room. Five of us have been chosen to do our solos. Three of those are best buds. The fourth looks like she’d rather stab herself with a knife than talk to me. So, I’m the odd man out. I pretend it doesn’t bother me. I guess it doesn’t. Or maybe I’m just used to it. The student body here hasn’t exactly been welcoming of my kind. Unless a teacher’s watching—then, they act like we all get along.

  I change into my costume and slick my hair into a ponytail. I don’t normally wear makeup, but the school issued a bag filled with it. I put on a light base and do my eyes up a little. I finish the look with a lipstick. The official name is Garnet Glory. It’s dark, which matches my mood.

  One of the teaching assistants pokes her head into the locker room.

  “Twenty minutes, ladies.”

  I finish up and zip up my bag. I stick earbuds in and play my music. It starts off slow and classical then builds as I move until the pace is almost frantic. I go over my choreography in my head and shut out everything else around me. I lose myself in the best possible way.

  I’m barely finished stretching when the assistant taps me on the shoulder.

  “You’re next.” I can’t hear her, but I read her lips.

  I nod and smile.

  She has a look of anticipation like she expects something great out of me today. I’m
always a little nervous before I take the stage, but that goes away the minute I start my choreography.

  At the other end of the hallway, Caius Fitch, a.k.a. Mr. Popular, is casually leaning against the wall, talking to another Legacy. Every once in a while, I catch him looking at me. When we make eye contact again, he smiles while I divert my gaze.

  Cool move, Tori.

  I try to block him out as I stand up and shake off my nerves. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice he slips into the auditorium door right before I go on.

  When I hear my name announced, and I take the stage. I start stage left. For the first couple seconds of my music, I stand perfectly still. I move slowly at first, my movements matching the tempo of the music. And then the tension builds. My palms meet as I reach toward the sky. I roll my body as I bring them down toward the earth. I turn. Chassé. Then transition into floor work.

  My back arches as the final note plays. I exhale and release all the tension in my muscles until I’m flat against the wood floor.

  The auditorium erupts in applause. I take my bow before exiting the stage. My teachers are smiling ear to ear.

  “Nice job, Aldridge,” a guy from my English class shouts at me as he exits the auditorium.

  “Thanks.” I make it to the locker room and change back into my uniform. I wipe off most of the makeup.

  The assembly is over by the time I leave the locker room. A crowd has formed in the hallway as students linger. I get a couple of smiles from random classmates. And then I lock onto Adalynn.

  Adalynn tugs me away from the crowd and then spins around to face me. To her credit, she’s not bothered by the grades anymore. She never holds mine against me. “Okay, don’t look, but he’s standing at two o’clock and staring right at you. This is like the gazillionth time this semester.”

  “No way. He is not.” My heart trills in my chest anyway, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I risk a glance as he snaps the rubber band around his wrist. He’s done it before when he’s been nervous, but it happens so fast that I doubt anyone else ever notices. A flicker of emotion—uncertainty?—passes across his features before he regains his casual demeanor.

 

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