Rite of Rejection (Acceptance Book 1) Read Free

I tell which boys will be Assigned good jobs like doctor, lawyer, or accountant?”
    “Oh.” My mother taps the tips of her fingers against the edge of the table.
    Shortly after her own Acceptance Ceremony, my mother caught the eye of the bank manager’s son. She started planning for a life on the high side of society. There was every reason to believe a young man from such a prominent family would do well in life. My parents got engaged only a few short months before his Assignment came down as paper processor. No one was more disappointed than the future Mrs. Stanley Collins.
    Mother could have broken off the engagement, but by then they were both already eighteen. If she didn’t marry my father she’d only have three years to find another husband before she’d be forced into a Compulsory marriage. In my opinion, nothing is more humiliating than being forced to marry a complete stranger because neither of you could find a partner on your own. My mother must have felt the same way.
    “That’s why I tell Cheryl, make sure a young man’s family is present before he signs your dance card. Of course, we all know good lineage can only take a man so far.”
    “Mother, you are so old-fashioned,” Cheryl says, laughing loud enough to draw the glances of several good-looking boys to our table. She’s oblivious to the sharp jab her mother shot at mine. That, or she pretends to be so we can both stay outside of our mothers’ squabbles.
    Cheryl pulls out her new dance card and holds it up so all the boys glancing in our direction can get a good look. Apparently, she’s decided to tempt fate. It’s tradition for boys to wait until after the ceremony to ask for dances. It stems back to when the Acceptance was first put into place and a much higher percentage of teens were rejected.
    That was what the people clamored for. An answer to the paralyzing crime rates that crippled the United Territories with fear. But that was a long time ago, back when the Territories were states and there was no way to tell if someone was a criminal until they committed a crime.
    Things are better now, with the deviants removed from society and families able to raise their children without the constant threat of violence. When the Machine was invented, over eighty years ago, the Acceptance ceremony was tense with apprehension and fear. Now, it’s almost all formality. Everyone knows that the kids brought in on buses, with parents who spend their money on contraband liquor and tobacco instead of Acceptance dresses and transport tickets, are the ones most likely to end up in the Permanent Isolation Territory.
    Despite the tradition of waiting until after the ceremony, it’s become a new tradition for the most eligible bachelors to ask for their first dance the day before. Clearly, Cheryl hopes to receive one of those coveted and rebellious invitations.
    I look around the restaurant, watching the other families enjoying Acceptance weekend while I wait for my salad to arrive. Across the room, a young man sits with his parents, and I find myself drawn to their interactions.
    He’s certainly handsome with his blond, wavy hair and angular jaw, but that’s not what catches my attention. It’s the way he holds himself, with his back straight and arms demanding a place of importance at the table that makes me want to know more about him. He has a rare air of confidence.
    He pivots in his seat and meets my stare with clear, blue eyes. I turn back to my own table, head down, but not before I catch his warm smile that raises the hair on the back of my neck. Busying myself by refolding the napkin in my lap, I lean in and try to pay attention to Cheryl, who’s demonstrating the high-tech features of her flashy new dance card.
    “Excuse me, ladies.” A deep voice falls across the table from over my shoulder. “I apologize for interrupting your lunch. My name is Dr. Harold Dunstan. I’d like to introduce my son, Eric.”
    “No apologies needed,”