Julia couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but she gave him a tired smile, because he and his soccer game were the reason she’d known there were Chosen here. He smiled back and nodded. “Hi, Julia.” Then he stretched his hand out for Cayne. “Ein,” he said. Hesitantly, Cayne took it; compared to lanky...
I had a lot of time to wonder what that meant. A lot of time during which Nick sat stoically beside me, waiting, I assumed, for me to fall asleep. There was the obvious meaning—that what we’d been doing was too much—but I worried maybe he meant the whole experience, or the effort to save the plan...
Back in Napa, she’d been reasonable. Well-liked. Comfy. Everything was fun, familiar. She hadn’t known a single second of loneliness. How had her life changed so fast? She was moving toward the hangar, half-sprinting like she could actually go somewhere. She couldn’t. Elizabeth’s family didn’t wa...
Feet stopped shuffling. Conversations were cut short. Her face burned with embarrassment as more than a dozen pairs of eyes settled on her. She was on the train again, in what appeared to be a posh dining room. Huge windows let in dazzling sunlight and splotches of the city. Washington, still. Th...
Not in a bed. I can feel the hardness of the floor, or ground, beneath me. That’s all I’m able to discern before the dryness of my mouth demands my full attention. I try to open my eyes, but even my eyelids are sticky. Fuck. ...
He could leave her in the little room with Meredith while he went downstairs to the area where the rest of their friends had gone and checked things out, or— “Cayne, no way! We're staying together, and we're not leaving Drew and Car and—” She choked on the name she didn't say, then tried hard to ...
She was too uptight. She had to fake it. Of course, half of the Candidates probably noticed, so then she wasn’t really faking. More like posing. The Candidates did some backward form of yoga. Kind of yoga and prayer combined. They prayed to “the gods,” and a few minutes into the “cleansing,” Juli...
I’m itchy, hot, and I feel like I’m floating. I know what this means. I know where I am, and I remember why. I also know I’m alone in this room. I can’t see red-blonde hair, and I don’t smell her, either.The IV machine starts its beeping—‘put your IV back in, you fucker’—and I decide I’m going to...