The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series)

Home > Other > The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series) > Page 13
The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series) Page 13

by Tricia Wentworth


  “Thanks. I just don’t think I’ll really get to that point. But thanks anyway. I appreciate the vote of confidence, bro.”

  He shakes his head at me in that way that tells me a scolding is coming. “Don’t give up. This country needs someone like you and you aren’t a quitter. Think of it as a game of Monopoly between the two of us. You never gave up on that. If you were going to lose, it would take me six hours to take your money, every last dollar. I’m sure it’s going to suck. You are probably going to hate it at some point or another, but you deserve this. You deserve the chance to do something great. Mom and Dad agree.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand.

  “I made it past the first two cuts now, so we get promoted. So there’s that. We might get promoted again if I make it to the halfway point,” I say proudly. “That’s only ten more girls away.”

  “Regs, don’t put that much pressure on yourself. I mean, it’s awesome and it sounds like you’ll for sure make it, but you have to quit doing it for us. We’re fine. Thank you, and the promotion will be awesome, but do this for you and don’t be too hard on yourself. You are a perfectionist through and through,” he says seriously before adding, “Sooooo, tell me about these girls?”

  I laugh. “That would be the one reason they would have you in jail. You need to find a woman already, Ash. Have you found anyone in the time I’ve been gone? You are Omaha’s most eligible bachelor, you know.”

  He is well over six foot tall, has strong shoulders and arms though the rest of him is lean, and has sandy hair and greenish-hazel eyes that all the girls swoon over. The girls are always interested; he just hasn’t picked one yet and doesn’t seem in a hurry to do so.

  “No. All the girls I date are just…surface level. All they do is talk about themselves. I need someone…I don’t know…a bit deeper than that crap.” He shrugs. “Blame mom, she’s the hopeless romantic that always spouts off that ‘don’t settle for anything less than the best’ crap.”

  “Tell me about it,” I nod in agreement and smile. Our mom has always wanted us to find love. Law requires us to marry, but she has always told us that instead of finding someone we can live with, we should find someone we can’t live without.

  “Whatever. You don’t even have to worry about it. You’ll be Madam President and all grossly in love with our next President,” he says with a wink.

  I don’t tell him that I’m worried none of the boys will even be interested in me. I quickly change the subject. We talk for a half an hour more and eat our meal of steak and potatoes, which Ashton got to request and was quite pleased with.

  He fills me in on life in Omaha. After I left, apparently a note arrived from the President thanking them for raising “a fine young daughter” with certificates for keeping a bunch of our harvest food and even some of our meat. I’m glad that we get some benefits for my being here. Although I have only been gone two weeks, he tells me about harvest preparations for the gardens, specifically the tomatoes and cucumbers, and that soon they will be making the switch to working in the greenhouses for the winter. Neither of us like the greenhouses as much, so I know he isn’t looking forward to that. We laugh and talk about past harvests and the weather that never seems to cooperate. Before I know it, our time is up.

  Ashton leaves and Sarge delivers me back to my room. I change and fall into my fluffy bed. I’m going to miss Ashton now more than ever. I can’t help but keep thinking, what else is a test? Is there anything they won’t do?

  Chapter 6

  The next morning at breakfast, five girls are gone, including the girl named Trinity that tried to intimidate me on that first day. I can’t say I’ll miss her. I’m pleased to see that no one from the group of us, well other than Cadence and Agnes, has gone home. It’s bound to happen eventually, but I will take it while I can. It could be any one of us. At any time. Ten more girls will be gone by Friday. But, in officially making it down to the final 35, I should have at least gotten my family a promotion. That is a definite perk in what will be a stressful next week.

  “I’m like Vanessa. Just sucking down the coffee today,” Marcia says as she slurps her coffee.

  She looks miserable. We all do. This leads me to believe that it wasn’t just me they used a family member on for the lie detector test. We can’t discuss it though, so there is a definite elephant in the room. I don’t get why we can’t talk about it if we all had a similar test, but whatever.

  “Anyone know what we are doing today?” Attie asks cheerfully though even she is looking a little rough.

  “Hmm. Hopefully sleeping,” Vanessa offers.

  Much to our dismay, we have another fitness test with a ton of pushups and squats. I’m not sure what the point of this is, but I enjoy it because afterwards we get to walk around the gardens outside. Later after we shower up, we are taken to etiquette for a final review before yet another stupid test.

  Much to our surprise, Professor Dougall has given us a real life scenario for our test. She has invited numerous people for a dinner this evening and we are to dress and act accordingly and she will grade us based on our performance. The Board of Directors will be there as well as two current cabinet members. If there was ever a class I thought I may fail, it’s this one. As she keeps explaining how everything will work, I keep getting more and more nervous.

  We review everything we know and she walks us through a proper meal setting. She lets us know we are expected back in five hours. We are to eat a light lunch and get ready for this evening. We get to wear one of the gowns in our closet and are allowed to get ready amongst one another.

  “This will be fun!” she says in the best mood we have seen her. “It’s time we put into practice all of this stuff we’ve been learning. But don’t think that you can shrug this off. This is not a party, it is still a test, my dears. This is making sure you are ready to meet the boys.”

  Am I?

  ****

  Hours later, I’m ready to go wearing a beautiful, dark green square cut sleeveless dress that is long and to the floor. Marcia and Attie convinced me to flat iron my usually wavy or curly hair. Completely straight, it drops down past the middle of my back. One side of it is pinned back a little bit. I am wearing more makeup than usual, but still keep it natural looking. For the first time since the first day, I’m not wearing my watch. Not that it matters. I know they will be monitoring us one way or another. Everything is a test.

  Attie is dressed in a lovely navy that complements her light blue eyes, while Marcia wears a burgundy dress that looks like the color was created just for her skin tone. Since we have only three dress color choices and a variety of styles in each, we choose to look different wearing both different colors and styles. One more glance in the mirror and we are ready to go.

  As we enter our normal cafeteria, my breath is taken away. The room has been decorated and transformed into a beautiful dining area complete with music playing softly in the background. There is even a vibrant and quite ostentatious chandelier in the center of the room. Our normal three rows of tables have been resituated into two long rows. Men serve champagne in lovely glass flutes along with some hors d’oeuvres. I have no idea what those are or what they are made of, but they look fancy.

  Smiling and saying thank you as I have been taught, I accept one glass of champagne and barely sip it. I’m not even of the old legal drinking age, but I guess they figure if we are old enough to be elected Madam President, we should be able to handle a glass of champagne responsibly.

  I talk with Attie and Marcia for a while since we came down together. Attie is giddy and babbling a hundred miles a minute about the room, who she thinks will be here, if we will pass our test, etc. Marcia looks like she would rather be elsewhere and I catch her looking at the door a few times like she wants to escape, but she’s in good spirits nonetheless. Compared to our test yesterday, this one should be easy peasy.

  It’s just the Culling girls for the first hour. I notice some girls are taking more than one glass of champagne and w
onder if that is wise since this is a test. I still have my first glass and am sipping it at a pace that will allow me to still be holding it when our guests arrive without the need for another. We haven’t really been taught how much alcohol to consume, but I think it’s pretty much common sense not to make a drunken spectacle of ourselves.

  “I love your dress,” I hear the sweet voice of Elizabeth say. I turn and in utter horror see that she and I are wearing the exact same dress. It looks much better on her than on me. Her gorgeous, dark brown hair is in ringlets down her back almost to her butt and her body shape makes the dress look like it was made for her and her alone. She’s a vision.

  I know she sees the panic on my face, but I have to make the best of the situation. “It looks so much better on you,” I smile truthfully.

  “Well thank you. I think it looks great on you too!” she pats my arm and then we chitchat for a little bit. I’m finding there is more to this girl than meets the eye and that’s frightening. Someone who has just her looks alone is intimidating in this competition. If there is depth to her too, I think we should just call off the whole thing now and give it to her.

  “Oh and look, you two aren’t the only ones,” Marcia interjects and we turn to see Marisol staring down October as they are both wearing shorter versions of the same navy color that Attie is wearing.

  “Well at least we are acting our age about it,” Elizabeth blurts out then puts her hand over her mouth. “Did I just say that out loud?”

  “You did,” I laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Those of us around Marcia here tend to have that characteristic rub off on us.”

  This makes her laugh and then she and Attie talk about Denver for a while. Renae comes over wearing a poufy burgundy dress and looks to be on at least her second glass of champagne. I see the girl named Haley, from Galveston same as Julia, off to the side and approach her.

  She’s also wearing dark green, but the tighter version of it with one shoulder strap. She looks flawless. I wish I were confident enough to wear it like she is. She must not try very hard with her appearance most days because she’s looking considerably more beautiful tonight. I can appreciate that. She was keeping her beauty in her arsenal to use at a later time. She reminds me of Vanessa, who I still haven’t seen yet tonight.

  “Reagan, right?” Haley smiles.

  “Yep. Haley?” I ask politely.

  “Yes. You have such a pretty name,” she compliments me.

  “Thank you,” I say, not used to getting compliments. “How do you like Denver?”

  “It’s a bit colder than home, but I’m getting used to it. It’s not like we have to go outside much anyway.” She shrugs.

  “I know. It makes me a bit claustrophobic,” I say honestly.

  “I wonder if we will ever see any other parts of Denver, or if we will just stay here,” she thinks aloud.

  We talk back and forth for a little bit. I don’t want to blatantly drill her for questions about Julia in this setting, but I would like to find out if she knew anything more about why Julia was kicked out of the Culling. Vanessa then comes in wearing a tight-fitting burgundy dress, the same style as Haley’s, and looking fabulous. She just has this amazing skill of doing it without trying. Seeing Haley and me first, she comes over to us. Marcia comes over also, with the girl named Chrysanthemum that sat on the other side of me for that first test. She introduces her as Chrys and we all comment on how unique her name is, which matches her dark red hair.

  I look around our group and am suddenly proud of the girls I have become friends with. We are a close-knit bunch, but we don’t exclude or deny anyone who wants to become part of our group, unlike Marisol and her following. And although I miss Agnes and Cadence, I’m looking forward to making more friends and getting to know the other girls for however long I am here for.

  “Hey, guys. Mind if I make proper small talk with you? You seem a bit more welcoming than them,” October says interrupting my thoughts as she joins our group. She nods over to where Marisol is standing with her group of friends, all six girls being from Denver. They are definitely not inviting or friendly. Until someone important is around.

  “Sure,” Marcia says kindly followed up by, “WAIT! Where’s your book?”

  Knowing how extremely intelligent October is, I’m surprised Marcia doesn’t hesitate to goad her. Then again, that’s Marcia for you.

  “Well, Professor Dougall is displeased with me enough as it is.” She shrugs and rolls her eyes.

  “Welcome to the club,” Marcia laughs.

  “What are you always reading, if you don’t mind me asking?” Attie smiles at her using her charm.

  “It varies. This week? Quantum particle physics,” she shrugs and we all just stare at her.

  “I have no idea what she even just said. Was that in English?” I joke. She laughs along with the others.

  At this point, all three of our Professors arrive. The two men in their official military formal wear, while Professor Dougall wears a beautiful silver gown that is tight to her hips and then flares out. The silver color seems to exactly match the color of her hair and sparkles as she moves. They have barely entered the room before Elle arrives, along with the two testers.

  “Good Evening, Ladies,” Professor Dougall nods as she makes the rounds.

  “Your gown,” Attie stammers. “It’s amazing!”

  “Why thank you, dear,” she smiles. “Don’t be too jealous. You will get to choose your gown from thousands of gowns if you are to make it to the Candidatorial Ball. Your attendant may even choose to have one specially made or altered to your liking.”

  I hear a simultaneous gasp from the girls close enough to hear what she just said. It’s nice to get dressed up for a change, but we only had a few options. For meeting the boys, we get to wear what we want, as well as take in the handsome men. A bunch of faces flash across my memory of boys I want to meet. I really hope I make it, and I know that is what everyone else is thinking too.

  Our big group breaks up to talk to the guests, knowing that if we all approach one guest at the same time, we will fail our test. I briefly greet our other two professors before I stalk down Elle. I approach her while she is getting an appetizer and speaking to the man serving it. Once he leaves, she turns her attention to me.

  “You look fabulous, Reagan,” she smiles kindly.

  “Thank you. I am really, really sorry again for saying what I said to you yesterday.” I sheepishly shake my head and double check to make sure that we are by ourselves.

  “Hey. I took it as a compliment. I’m the one you felt most comfortable with, so of course you would feel most betrayed by me. I get it.” She shrugs and pats my arm, “All is forgiven.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go find Dougall about our surprise guest,” she winks and walks off leaving me thinking that it’s too bad she’s just over the Culling age or I think she could win this herself.

  I go next to a small group talking to the tester man that I normally had and I realize I don’t even know his name. He knows me better than I might even know myself at this point and I know nothing about him. I can tell from the groups I have seen talking to him and leaving him quickly that most girls are still uncomfortable with both of our seemingly emotionless testers.

  When Chrys greets him and leaves, I find myself alone with the man.

  “Hello. Okay, so I know we’ve met on numerous occasions, sir,” I smile as I begin, “but I still don’t know your name.”

  “That’s okay. No one really does, dear.” He doesn’t smile but the use of the word dear can’t be too bad.

  “Would you care to enlighten me?” I raise my eyebrows in anticipation.

  “Herman Winters.” He almost smiles and takes a sip of his champagne.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Winters.” I smile, hoping my charm can work half as well as Attie’s. I wonder why he didn’t give me his military rank like Zax and Bennett did, but don’t know how to ask. Know
ing that most girls would just walk away at this point, I decide to ask him a question. “Do you have kids, Mr. Winters?”

  “Yes. I have two sons and one daughter,” he responds, eyeballing me suspiciously since I’m the only one who has stuck around to make small talk with him. His eyes are a very distinct shade of gray which I hadn’t seen before in an eye color. Or a hair color either, for that matter, since his eyes and hair weirdly match. It’s very disorienting, even when he’s being nice.

  “And what do you do when you aren’t quizzing us for the Culling?” I ask the next question that comes to mind not thinking that it might be a little personal.

  “Military work in special forces,” he says without emotion again.

  “Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say that you definitely specially force answers out of us,” I smile.

  This time he actually chuckles and I have accomplished my mission. I don’t think the testers are as bad as they portray themselves to be. They purposefully try to get under our skin and they have to be intimidating. It’s part of their process.

  “Well I suppose I should go find the ev--” I stop myself realizing I’m going to refer to the other man as “the evil tester” out loud. I only ever call him that in my head. What was I thinking?

  Stupid, Reagan!

  He looks somewhat amused. “Who, dear?”

  “Well, if you must know, in my head I call him ‘the evil tester’,” I honestly whisper to him and he stifles another laugh.

  “And what did you refer to me as, in your head?” he inquires.

  “I would tell you, but then I would have to kill you,” I playfully whisper again and am relieved when he takes it well. He was who I referred to as the evil tester until the other guy overtook that title. But I will just keep that little detail to myself. Gray-eyes here doesn’t need to know that.

  He gives me a genuine smile and gestures for me to leave. “Always a pleasure, Reagan.”

 

‹ Prev