Maxen shrugged in indifference, but I noticed he held his hand out for the girl who sat trembling at the table.

The ball continued in this manner. The girls, sitting in their assigned seat, while the boys moved around the table in an orderly fashion, taking turns dancing with each of us. Some of the boys were kind, some even nicer than the first boy I had danced with. They asked questions like, “Are they treating you okay?” Or said things like, “I hope it hasn’t been too hard for you to be away from your home.”

Those boys gave me hope that there were many, who like James and his father, did not want to condemn their mate to traditional Judaculla life. I prayed silently that one of these boys was Calla’s Haden. It would make life bearable for her, pleasant even if she ended up with a boy who actually cared for her. I didn’t know how long I’d stay in Judaculla with James. Didn’t know when we would be able to escape. I really hoped Calla was in a good place until the time came that we could get her out. If Haden was a good guy, we’d take him, too.

Unfortunately, most of the boys were creeps. Many of them chose to dance too closely to me. Their hands wandered across my body as if they owned me. They seemed to take a perverse pleasure in knowing I was helpless to stop them. Helpless to even say anything against what they were trying to do. I backed away whenever one of the boys behaved in this manner. My small protest excited them more. Each time, they would pull me even closer. The entire experience made me simultaneously furious and sick to my stomach. In any other situation, their rude advances would’ve been met with my knee.

I cast a glance around the room, searching for Calla. Presently, she was dancing with a boy who held her at a respectful distance. I felt relieved, but at the same time, I knew the odds were that Calla’s One would more than likely be one of the disgusting predator-boys.

Everything was going according to plan, until we got to the end of the ball. Even with their placeholders, the boys had somehow gotten out of order. Hearing the vulgar comments of some of the boys, I knew they’d skipped girls they felt were beneath them. I had the feeling this kind of behavior happened at every Promise Ball.

The first boy I danced with returned to pick up his placeholder. There was some confusion as boys reached across girls and bumped into each other, all trying to get their placeholders. After a few moments, the frenzy died down. The boys returned to their table, and we all sat silently, expectantly.