THE CULLING

Six Days Post-Culling…

As soon as we dock, I’m off the boat and racing down the pier toward solid land. But I don’t get far before Spencer’s heavy footsteps echo behind me. He’s running, trying to catch me. I pick up my pace.

“Everleigh!” he shouts.

“Leave me alone, Spencer. I hate you!” I scream without turning around to look at him.

Spending the summer on his boat was possibly the single biggest mistake of my life, which is saying a lot considering last summer, on a dare, I jumped off the high-dive in a string bikini—and came up missing a vital piece of my swimsuit as a result. At the public pool no less.

He catches up to me and grabs my hand, stopping my escape. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Let go of me,” I say, my voice tight. But as always, his touch ignites something inside of me, something I still can’t explain, and I stop even though I don’t want to.

Spencer drops my hand and steps back. “Okay fine, but at least slow down and talk to me. What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing. And we have nothing to talk about, either. I never should’ve gotten on that boat with you.” I fidget, refusing to meet his gaze. I know he’ll have that sad, pathetic look in his eyes, and that’s the last thing I can handle right now.

His eyes widen as if I just slapped him or something. “Is that how you really feel?” His voice is soft, pleading.

I hate when he uses that tone. It’s my weakness, and he knows it. I nod, unable to speak. If I try, I’ll end up crying, and I refuse to let him see the effect he has on me, the devastation his words caused to my heart. Not now when things have already drastically changed so much.

“You’re unbelievable, Everleigh.” He throws his hands up in frustration. “You used me to save face with those people you call friends, and somehow I’m the bad guy.” He shakes his head, sighing heavily. “I’ve done everything I could for you this summer, and this is how you thank me? Well, at least we agree on one thing. This summer was a mistake.” He turns on his heel and marches back toward the boat. “I never should’ve chosen you to save,” he mumbles.

My ears ring with his words, and my face heats with both shame and hurt. I chase him. “Spencer!” I grab at his arm, but he jerks away before I can get ahold of him. “Hey! Don’t walk away from me.”

Spencer spins around abruptly, and I bump into him. I stumble back from the force, and he steadies me, his hands warm and strong on my arms. He pulls me closer, and I hold my breath, simultaneously hoping he kisses me and that he doesn’t. I lick my lips, and his eyes darken. My heart is hammering so loud in my chest it drowns out all the other sounds around me.

He lowers his head, and I snap out of the trance I’m in. I yank out of his hold, replacing my desire with anger. I can’t lose sight of what I know I have to do.

“I swear to God, Spence, if you tell anyone about what happened this summer, I will—”

“You’ll what?” he snaps. “Look around, Everleigh.” He holds his arms out to his sides and spins in a slow circle. “There’s no one here. Just who am I going to tell, exactly?”

All the fight in me deflates as I glance around. He’s right. Our hometown has been culled, just like all the other lake towns we’ve been to this past week. My heart sinks, and my shoulders droop.

“Oh, God,” I mumble.

Spencer sighs, steps closer, and rests his hands on my shoulders. “I know you’re pissed at me for what I told you last night, but you can’t go running off on your own. It’s not safe.”

I scowl, hating that he’s right yet again. I have no idea if any of the Bittens are still here, but if they are, I can’t risk coming face to face with one alone. I don’t stand a chance against a volatile, rage-fueled vampire.

“I promised you we’d go check to see if your parents are okay, and we will. But then I need you to swear you’ll go to Brookside with me.” He peers into my eyes, his gaze unflinching.

I shift on my feet and avert my gaze, so I don’t have to look at him. I both hate and love him right now—and I’m not sure which emotion is stronger. I’m desperate to know if my parents survived the culling, but I’m equally as desperate to put as much distance between me and Spencer as possible. Problem is I can’t go without him. Not only do I need him for my protection, I need him to take me to Brookside, the Born vampires’ stronghold, where we’ll be safe from the Bittens.

“Fine,” I finally say and cross my arms over my chest.

“Thank you.” He drops his hands from my shoulders, steps back, rakes his hand through his hair. “I’m going to grab some weapons. Don’t move.”

I glower at him as he turns to go back to the boat. On our way home from our summer vacation cut short, we stopped at each town along the lake, checking for survivors and gathering as many supplies as we could carry.

Spencer returns a moment later with a rifle slung over one shoulder, a handgun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, and a knife sticking out of his boot. He looks like something straight out of a badly acted action movie. I raise a brow and fight not to laugh at how silly he looks.

“What did you mean just now when you said you shouldn’t have chosen me to save?”

He doesn’t so much as flinch, yet his gaze drifts ever so slightly. I shift on my feet, waiting for an answer I’m pretty sure I no longer want.

“Brookside can only hold so many people. Every Born in the area will be there, along with their families and whatever human volunteers we could gather.” He glances away momentarily. “The Council held an auction to allow a certain number of families to save others. My family was chosen.” He lets out a heavy breath. “My parents have no family around here, so Dad said I could choose who to save.”

My arms hang limply by my sides, and I stare at him, stunned. “And you picked me?” My voice sounds faraway even to my own ears. “Why?” I whisper.

He pins me with a you-can’t-be-serious look, brow raised, lips turned down in a frown. “Because I like you, and I thought maybe if you were away from those witches you call friends, you’d be… I don’t know. Grateful?” He shrugs. “That maybe we could go back to the way things were between us before popularity became the most important thing in the world to you.”

I narrow my eyes, refusing to speak. Honestly, what can I say? I am grateful he chose to save me, but he’s smart enough to know things will never be the same between us. Too much has changed and happened, and our relationship is different now.

“Let’s go,” he says, then takes off ahead of me. “Stay close, okay?”

“Whatever,” I grumble.

I follow silently, not allowing too much room to grow between us—mostly because I don’t to lose sight of him, and with his vampire speed, he can easily get ahead of me.

My town, while familiar, feels foreign. Every business and house we pass is lit up like normal, but no one is around. Doors are open, some are torn from the hinges. Windows are smashed. Silence wraps around us, and my stomach turns itself inside out.

“Do you hear anything?” I whisper.

“No. I don’t see or smell anything, either.” He tilts his head back and sniffs. “We’re completely alone.”

My breath catches at his words. We’re only halfway through town. My house is a mile outside of the town line—my parents could still be okay. But even as the thought enters my mind, I know it’s a lie. We’re probably wasting our time going to my house, but I have to know for certain.

Spencer shifts the rifle into his hands and holds it out in front of him. I slow my steps to see what he’s going to do. When he continues walking, I jog to catch up. Part of me wants to talk, to fill all this silence, but I’m too afraid. What if someone is around and hears me? What if Spencer refuses to talk back to me?

So, instead of saying anything aloud, I silently rehash our argument from last night. Things had been going so well between us. We’d been snuggled on the bed, Spencer telling me all about vampires—both the Borns and the Bittens. We’d been kissing and, I thought, growing even closer. But then I’d opened my big mouth to ask him what would happen when we got home.

His answer: “I don’t know.”

He didn’t know? How could he not know? I mean, we both knew we needed to get to Brookside as fast as possible, but beyond that… We’d grown so much closer in the short amount of time we’d been on his boat. He even admitted he liked me as more than a friend, that he chose to save me from the culling. How can he declare all of that and then not know what will happen between us? Of course, minutes ago he admitted saving me was a mistake.

I want to demand an answer, something concrete so I know where I stand with him. Especially now when the world and my entire life is so uncertain. But I realize now really isn’t the time to deal with whatever relationship drama we have, so I keep my thoughts to myself.

Spencer grabs me around the waist, spins me out of the road, and then tackles me to the ground behind a large oak tree. I start to yelp with surprise, but Spencer covers my mouth with his hand. He presses his finger to his lips to indicate I need to be quiet.

Heart pounding and eyes wide with fear, I nod my understanding.

He slowly lowers his hand from my mouth.

Seconds later, voices filter from the street where we’d just been. I peek around the base of the tree trunk. Two hulking guys walk side by side, shoulders hunched forward. Their eyebrows are drawn deeply between their eyes in a permanent angry leer, and their lips are parted to accommodate the mouthful of sharp fangs that protrude over their bottom lips.

Bittens.

This time, I slap my own hand over my mouth to stop from making any sound, and I barely breathe for fear of alerting the vampires to our presence. I cautiously move back around the tree trunk so I’m fully hidden from view.

Spencer holds my gaze as if afraid I might do something stupid. Little does he know I’m much too terrified to move let alone do anything else. I focus on remaining calm and perfectly still.

“We got ‘em all,” one of the vampires says. “Boss will be pleased.”

“Think he’ll reward us with a snack?” The other vampire snickers.

My stomach curdles like sour milk, and I have to momentarily close my eyes to block out everything around me. We got ‘em all. That must mean my parents, too. Now I know I’m wasting precious time forcing Spencer to go to my house with me, but we’ve come this far, and I can’t go back now.

Eventually, their voices fade, but I still don’t move. I stay where I am until I feel Spencer’s hand on my arm.

“C’mon, they’re gone,” he whispers.

I nod and push to my feet, though my legs tremble. “You’re sure they don’t know we’re here?” I glance down the street, praying I don’t see the vampires coming back for us.

Spencer shakes his head. “If they did, they wouldn’t have left.” He once again holds the rifle in front of him. “Let’s go. We need to make this trip as quick as possible.”

Nodding, I hug myself and once again fall into step behind Spencer. He appears much more alert now than he did before we saw the Bittens, and that makes me twice as nervous. I keep my eyes peeled, too, just in case.

Thirty minutes later, we arrive at my house, and I hear nothing. No screaming and shouting. No arguing. No insults or curses. And that’s when I know with absolute, undeniable certainty—my parents are gone.

Even though I knew this was the most likely outcome, the truth still lands in my gut like a wrecking ball. My breath expels in a violent whoosh, and I sink to my knees. I can’t believe they’re really gone. Despite how rotten things have been between my parents lately, they’re still my mom and dad, and I love them.

“Ev, honey. I’m so sorry.” Spencer kneels in front of me. “I know this is hard but—” He reaches for me, but I scramble away.

“You don’t know anything,” I snap. “Your parents are alive and waiting for you. Mine are gone. All my friends are gone.” Fury burns in my chest, building until I explode into a raging inferno of anger. “I have no one!”

“You have me,” he says.

I laugh bitterly. “Do I, Spencer?” I stand and brush my palms on my pants. “Because last I heard, you didn’t know. Besides, I’m nothing more than a regret to you, right?”

He rises to his full height in one fluid, graceful motion. But he doesn’t say a word, and his lack of response is worse than him telling me—again—that he doesn’t know where we stand. Then again, I guess I deserve a little taste of the pain I’ve been inflicting on him for the past couple of years.

Seven Days Pre-Culling…

As soon as the bell rings, I rush out of the room. I’ll be so glad when this year is over, and I no longer have to go to AP English. When I reach my locker, I double check to make sure my journal is safe in my bag, and I didn’t accidently leave it in class. I’d die if anyone read what’s between those pages. I should probably just leave it at home, where I know it will be safe, but not having it within reach makes me jittery. Plus, I don’t trust Mommy Dearest not to snoop.

“I swear to God, if Mr. Handley gives me another C, I’m going to slash his tires.” Whitney groans.

I slam my locker closed and turn to face her. “I take it you didn’t do well on your test.”

“Look at this!” Her blue eyes are as wild as her blonde curls.

She waves a paper in my face, and I snatch it. There’s more red ink than anything else. Whitney is gorgeous and popular and fun, but she’s not all that smart. I hate to even think that because she’s my best friend, but it’s true. Even she knows it, and she owns that as proudly as she does her name.

“I told you I’d help you study.” I hand the paper back and loop my arm through hers. “And seriously, screw Mr. Handley. He’s old as dirt.”

“Eww.” Whitney scrunches up her face. “The thought of anyone screwing Mr. Handley is enough to give me nightmares.”

I laugh, and we make our way to the cafeteria. We skip the food line and go straight to our table. Mya and Liz are waiting for us. I take a seat across from them, and Whitney sits to my right. Whitney pulls a bottle of pop from her large purse and hands it to me. Then she pulls out a second one for herself. I twist off the top and take a sip.

“This week is never going to end,” Mya complains as she flips her shiny black hair over her shoulder.

“We legit have like one day left,” I say. “You’ll survive.”

Liz rolls her big, brown doe eyes. “Everleigh Optimistic,” she says in a mocking tone.

I turn my attention away. That’s her very un-clever nickname for me. I tend to complain a lot less than the rest of them, so they tease me about being too optimistic. The name drives me crazy. Really, what’s so wrong about being positive?

“Oh!” Mya says, digging through her oversize purse. She pulls out her cell phone. “We’ve been invited to several grad parties. We should start making plans for this weekend, map out a party route.” She taps on the phone screen, and then my, Whitney’s, and Liz’s phones simultaneously chirp. “I just tagged all of you on Insta.”

I remove my phone from my back pocket and check my notifications. Mya tagged me in no less than twelve photos. I begin to scroll through the pictures, barely paying attention to who is having a party—I’ll just go wherever the rest of them want to.

“Ew. Chad Murphy.” Whitney wrinkles her nose. “Don’t think so, loser.”

“What’s wrong with Chad?” Liz asks.

“Really, Liz?” Whitney sighs. “Remember Chelsea Grayson’s party? He spent all night hooking up with you, and then the very next weekend, he was getting busy with Trish Fuller. The weekend after that… Deidra Marks. He’s a player. And not a very good one. Chad’s so not worth our time.”

Liz shrugs. “Whatever.” She returns her attention to her phone, then looks back up. “How about Marc McCain? He’s cool.”

“Oh, yeah, we’re totally there.” Mya grins.

“Hey, babe.” Reid comes up behind me and plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

I twist around in my seat and smile at him. “Hey.”

He flops his backpack on the table, knocking over my bottle of Pepsi. Thankfully, the top was on.

“Reid!” Mya shrieks. “God, you’re such a guy.”

Reid laughs, sits beside me, drapes his arm around my shoulders, and pulls me toward him. Then he’s kissing me in his typical, overzealous fashion. His tongue nearly chokes me, and when I pull away, I have to gasp for breath. Dating Reid skyrocketed my popularity more than becoming friends with Whitney, but he’s not a very good kisser. He nuzzles his nose against my neck, and I giggle, but he doesn’t stop.

“Aw.” Liz drops her chin into her hand and lets out a dreamy sigh. “You two are so cute together.”

“I know, right?” Mya nods. “You two are totally going to get married someday. You’ll be able to tell your kids how you were high school sweethearts.”

Reid chuckles, and I shift uncomfortably. My parents had been high school sweethearts, too, and that hasn’t worked out so well for them.

“Wanna hang out tonight?” he whispers.

“Get a room!” Spencer’s voice startles me, and I jerk away from Reid.

“Get a graveyard!” Mya shouts back, and we erupt into fits of laughter.

I cup my hand over my mouth and look over my shoulder at Spencer, who’s staring at me. There’s something in his gaze that makes my laughter die in my throat. And I can’t seem to look away. His T-shirt stretches across his chest, showing muscles I didn’t know he had, and he looks taller, too. Everything about him lately is different, like he’s just emerged from one of those massive, TV makeover shows or something. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but he’s not the same Spencer I’ve always known.

“Cross yourself, girls,” Whitney announces, making the sign of the cross. Liz and Mya follow her lead, but I’m still caught in his gaze. “Amen,” she says once they’re done.

Making the sign of the cross is this stupid thing we do to make fun of Spencer. At the beginning of our sophomore year, he wore a ridiculous Halloween costume to school for no apparent reason. Liz quickly nicknamed him Spooky Spence. After that, Mya made it her mission to tease him about it. But that got old and boring, so she started telling people Spencer liked to hang out in graveyards and touch himself. So, now, whenever he crosses our paths, we feel the need to protect ourselves from him by actually crossing ourselves.

Reid’s nuzzling my neck again, and I tear my gaze from Spencer. “So?” he mutters. “Are we on for tonight?”

Hanging out usually means making out. We rarely do anything together unless it’s physical. Or going to a party. I don’t feel like doing either tonight. Then again, I don’t really want to go home. “I don’t know. What’re the plans tonight, girls?”

“Shopping,” Whitney says. “In fact, I’m skipping the rest of the day. Who’s with me?”

That’s not really a question. When one of us says we’re going to do something, the rest of us go along. That’s just how things work. We’re friends, and friends always stick together.

“Don’t you have another final today?” I ask before I can filter my thoughts.

She waves me off. “We already took the final. We’re doing some stupid activity today.”

“Oh, okay then.” Luckily, my afternoon class is an art elective, and I don’t have to go because I already turned in my final assignment. I turn to Reid. “Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Don’t worry, Everleigh. We’ll have you back in time to see lover boy.” Whitney laughs, and I swat her.

My friends think I’ve gone all the way with Reid. But I haven’t. I just haven’t bothered to correct their assumptions because I don’t want them to make fun of me. And I really don’t want them to pressure me to hand over my V-card to Reid, especially if he has sex like he kisses. I involuntarily shudder.

“Reid!” Alex Thompson shouts from clear across the cafeteria. “You comin’ or what?”

“Gotta go. I’ll text you later.” Reid kisses my cheek, then dashes off with Alex.

I have no idea what they’re doing, and I don’t really care. Just like he doesn’t care what I do with my friends. The bell rings, and we take our time leaving. Knowing we’re not going to class, we’re in no big rush.

“Get your stuff and meet me at my car,” Whitney calls.

I go to my locker to grab my backpack and journal. When I turn to head out to the student parking lot, I pass Spencer in the hall. I don’t give him anything more than a cursory glance, until he stops and clutches his chest. His eyes go wide, and he backs up against the wall of lockers.

Against my better judgment, I stop. “What’s your problem?”

“You didn’t cross yourself. You going to live?” His lips curve up into a smile that’s almost breathtaking. “Oh, wait.” He snaps his fingers. “You only do that when the Terrible Trio is around. Where are your fellow heathens anyway?”

I glare at him. That’s what he calls my friends—The Terrible Trio. Can’t really blame him considering how they tease him, and I guess I’m guilty by association. He’s never lumped me in with them like that before, though.

“Real clever, Spencer.” I roll my eyes and walk away.

“Ev, wait,” he calls.

I freeze. The hairs on my arms stand on edge, and my ears ring. “Don’t call me that,” I say.

That’s his childhood nickname for me, and he hasn’t used it in years. I don’t know why he’s using it now, but hearing it stirs emotions in my chest that I would much rather ignore. Slowly, I turn to face him. His head’s down, and his expression borders on apologetic.

“Will you be at the guest house tonight?” He rubs the back of his neck, then looks up at me. “Can I meet you there? There’s something I need to ask you.”

I cross my arms. “I have plans tonight. Just ask me now.”

He narrows his eyes, and the muscle in his jaw clenches. “Never mind.” He walks away, and I stare after him, stunned.

What the heck was that all about? Seriously, why was I ever friends with him? I shake my head and hurry outside to meet my friends.

Whitney’s car is a cherry red convertible with a stereo that costs just as much as the car itself. Her mom’s been married five times, and each divorce leaves her with a huge settlement. Whitney’s dad pays crazy high child support, too, and so she literally gets whatever she wants, which is a sore subject with Mya, who also gets whatever she wants. Mya and Whitney are constantly trying to buy more or spend more money than the other. For someone like me who doesn’t have access to hundreds or thousands of extra dollars each month to spend on clothes, I find their spending habits to be ridiculous.

I approach her car and glance around. I thought for sure they’d be waiting for me considering I got caught up with Spencer. Why does he want to meet me at the guest house? That is my safe place, my sanctuary. And now he wants to invade that part of my life? Why?

Moments later, Mya, Whitney, and Liz approach, laughing, faces red. “What did I miss?” I ask immediately.

“Pukey Paige was walking down the hall with toilet paper hanging out of her pants,” Mya says. “And it had…” She erupts into uncontrollable giggles.

“It had a poop stain on it,” Whitney finishes.

My eyes widen. “No way.”

Whitney nods.

Paige Randall became Pukey Paige during sophomore year when she threw up in health class after watching a video about STDs. So gross.

Mya doubles over and laughs so hard I’m afraid she’ll stop breathing. But her laughter is contagious, and soon, we’re all out of control.

“Hey!” the groundskeeper shouts at us. None of us have passes to leave, and if he catches us again, we’ll get a week of in-house suspension at the start of our senior year. No thank you.

“Oh, crap. Get in the car,” Whitney says, and we all scramble to get in.

She drops the car into reverse and peels out of the parking lot like a racecar driver, which she’s so not. In fact, she totaled her last car because she was driving too fast and hit a log that had fallen during a pretty nasty storm, and it was literally just lying there in the middle of the road, so really, Whitney should’ve been able to stop. But she was speeding. Like always.

Because Whitney is my best friend, I always get shotgun, which also means I get control of the radio. Mya hates that! I crank up the volume when my favorite band—Three Days Grace—comes on, and she pats my shoulder. We sing at the top of our lungs, all of us off tune, but that doesn’t stop us.

“What’re we shopping for anyway?” Liz shouts to be heard over the music.

Whitney turns down the volume. “I need some new clothes for all these grad parties.”

“We need to swing by the pharmacy so I can get more condoms,” Liz says from the backseat where she’s filing her nails.

I whip around to look at her. “Seriously, Liz? Condoms?”

She shrugs. “A girl can’t be too careful.”

“You’re on the pill. Make the guy buy the condoms,” Mya says.

I laugh and turn back around in my seat. The way they talk about sex like it’s no big deal… I can’t wrap my mind around it. Of course, right now, the only thing on my mind is Spencer and what he could possibly have to ask me. Maybe I will make a detour to the guest house later tonight.