Read Online Dead Beautiful by Yvonne Woon - Free Book Online Page A

of his shirt.
    But my thoughts were interrupted by a voice tickling my ear. “Bring us death,” said Nathaniel, barely audible.
    I gasped. “What?”
    “That’s what she’s saying: ‘Bring us death so we can study it. To capture the mind of a child is to gain immortality.’ ” His voice cracked, and he swallowed self-consciously. “ ‘So that when we die, our minds live forever.’ ”
    I stared at the headmistress. It seemed a little morbid for a high school motto. In my old school, the principal didn’t even give a welcome speech, let alone hold some bizarre nighttime ritual.
    “It’s Latin,” Nathaniel said, pretending to keep his eyes closed like everyone else. “She’s saying that even though our bodies will die, our achievements will live on forever.”
    “Shhh,” hissed a voice from the section across from us. A prim and preppy girl glared at us, then shut her eyes.
    “That’s Genevieve Tart,” he said quietly. “She’s a junior. And she hates me.”
    “Why would she hate you?” I asked.
    “My presence annoys her.”
    “Did she tell you that?”
    “No, I can just tell. She barely speaks to me. And she thinks my name is Neil.”
    “That’s ridiculous. How can you know she hates you if she doesn’t speak to you?” I asked in a strained whisper.
    “Shhh!” Genevieve said again, this time to me.
    Nathaniel stared at his feet. “See?”
    Before I could respond, a boy from the farthest section of the benches stood up. He was tall and athletic, with a face strikingly like Eleanor’s. Her older brother, I realized.
    He walked through the rows of his section with a military strut until he stopped behind a girl and tapped her on the shoulder. She was slender and rosy, with almond eyes and straight black hair.
    Once tapped, she walked down the rows and tapped a short, bony boy, who made his way to the third-year benches and tapped a girl with freckles and red hair. She tapped a serious-looking boy who made his way to the back, directly toward me.
    He stopped at our row, and I closed my eyes and waited. But the tap never came. Instead, he touched the girl across from us. Genevieve Tart rose and gracefully made her way down the aisle.
    The six students lined up in front of the podium, their heads bowed and eyes closed.
    “The tapping of the new Board of Monitors,” Nathaniel explained. “Model students.” His voice betrayed a hint of bitterness. “They make sure everyone keeps the rules.”
    “How are they chosen?”
    “They’re picked by the faculty. It’s really difficult to get. There’s this test you have to pass, but no one knows what it is, and the Monitors won’t say. That’s probably why they were chosen. They’re suck-ups.”
    Headmistress Von Laark stopped chanting and left the podium. She approached the first boy from behind and tapped him on the shoulder. “Brandon Bell,” she announced in a commanding voice.
    She moved quickly down the line. “Ingrid Fromme.
    “Schuyler Soverel.
    “Laney Tannenbaum.
    “Maxwell Platkin.
    “Genevieve Tart.”
    Only juniors and seniors could be tapped, Nathaniel explained. Brandon, Ingrid, and Schuyler were fourth years, and were on the board last year. The third years were Laney, Maxwell, and Genevieve. The headmistress pursed her lips, dark red and elegant. “Board of Monitors. Tonight I bind you to Gottfried Academy. From this moment on, the student body is your body. The student voice is your voice… .”
    The moon rose large behind the trees. Headmistress Von Laark lifted her head and gazed around the lawn.
    “And now,” she bellowed, “let us wake.”
    One by one the Board of Monitors opened their eyes and raised their heads. All of the students followed suit. The night sky was clear. The reflection of the moon rippled in the lake, and a cool breeze fluttered above, rustling the leaves.
    The headmistress removed a small knife from the podium and cut a deep slit into the bark of the tree. Thick red sap oozed out. She dipped