Scarlet awoke to a cockroach on her nose. When she opened her eyes, its buggy eyes were staring right back. Scarlet calmly picked the cockroach off her nose with contained anger, and then she crushed it in her palm. Bug juice and legs dripped from her clenched fist, but Scarlet just shook out her hand and wiped it on her sheets.
Raven, one of Scarlet's roommates, stared at the mangled pieces of the cockroach's body in horror. "That was my pet!" she shrieked.
"Next time, make sure your pets stay off of me, or otherwise I'll gladly send it to the Grim Reaper." Scarlet looked down at the bits of dead bug and smiled proudly at her handiwork. She loved being a Never. The thrill of killing was always there, and it will never be old.
Raven gaped at Scarlet with her mouth open. "Do you dye your hair in your victims' blood?" she asked, intrigued.
Scarlet let out a cackle. "Sure," she said, although it wasn't true. But Scarlet liked the theory so much she decided to play along. Not that this wasn't the first theory she had received. Red hair was very uncommon among Nevers, who all usually have black or dark hair.
"Ready to terrorize the Evers?" Astrophel asked, walking into the room. Astrophel was Scarlet's other roommate. Her black hair was messy and bent in its bedhead state. "I absolutely can't wait."
Raven glanced at her dead cockroach one last time. "I really hope there are no Readers this year," she said. "I hate Readers." Readers was the term used to describe someone who doesn't belong in the fairy tale world, but rather came from the Woods Beyond.
"Pollux said there are two Readers this year," Astrophel pointed out.
"Pollux," Scarlet scoffed. "Who cares what Pollux says. It's obvious that dog head is siding with the Evers."
Somewhere nearby, a grandfather clock began bing-bonging, the sound echoing and reverberating throughout both schools. Scarlet counted exactly eight bing-bongs. Eight o'clock.
"It's eight a.m. Time for breakfast," Scarlet said. "Let's go."
The Evil supper hall was deliberately dimmed and gloomy. Iron torch brackets clung on the cold stone walls, blazes aflame. Some Nevers were seated at tables and already eating their breakfast. A murmur of talk hung low in the cold room. Wolves guarded every doorway, and some other wolves half-heartedly served breakfast to Nevers.
Scarlet, Astrophel, and Raven moved through the line together. Instead of making friends, Nevers usually stick with the people they room with. A wolf shoved a metal tray at them and plopped a pile of gray goo onto their trays.
"Bon Appetit," the wolf muttered as they walked past.
Scarlet walked up to a group of Nevers sitting at a table. "Move," she told them coldly.
All the Nevers looked up at her, shock registering on their faces when they saw Scarlet's red hair.
"Are you a Reader? What happened to your hair?" a Neverboy asked unkindly.
"She's not the Reader," Raven said, moving to stand next to Scarlet. "But she's vicious. She killed my pet cockroach this morning." Raven stated her pet's death like it was a trophy to display. That was the nature of Nevers.
"Well, there are plenty of other tables here," the Neverboy retorted. "We're not moving."
Anger flooded through Scarlet and simmered, threatening to break into a boil. But before she could say anything, Astrophel bared her teeth and made an odd noise, like a shrill snarl. Her red eyes glowed, redder and redder, until the Nevers reluctantly got up and moved to a different table.
"Ha," Astrophel said gleefully as they sat down. "Knew that would work." Then she poked the gray blob on her tray. "Urgh…what is this?"
Scarlet swallowed a spoonful of her gray mash. It tasted like nothing, and she scooped some more into her mouth. "It's not so bad," she said with her mouth full.
Astrophel shook her head and pushed the tray away. "I need blood," she said. "I can't survive for a day without blood."
Raven gestured around them. "Plenty of fresh meat," she said.
Astrophel suddenly straightened her slumped posture and sniffed the air. "I smell Good," she rasped, and Raven and Scarlet both jerked their heads. Astrophel's red eyes focused on a boy with brown hair, and she licked her lips.
"But he's a Never," Scarlet said, frowning. "He's wearing the School for Evil uniform, like we all are."
"An Ever in disguise," Astrophel said, and she stood.
"Er, you know I was joking about the fresh meat, right?" Raven said nervously. "I didn't mean it. And I don't think cannibalism is allowed here either!"
Astrophel didn't answer as she began to walk toward her newest victim.
"Oh gravy. Oh just gravy," Raven groaned. "Oh just gravy."
Scarlet examined the boy from a distance, her eyes sharp. Dark brown hair, cool gray eyes, unusually clean and crisp-looking for a Never. He can't have been an Ever. Evers weren't allowed in the School for Evil.
Then something in Scarlet's brain clicked everything into place. Scarlet stood up suddenly, mind jolting.
"Astrophel!" she called. "He's not an Ever! He's a Reader!" Reader. It explained the look of lost confusion on his face.
"A Reader-Ever! Even better!" Astrophel called over her shoulder. Then the boy looked in their direction and at Astrophel.
"Oh," Raven moaned. "We should probably do something."
Scarlet marched up to Astrophel and grabbed her arm. "Control yourself," she warned. "You don't want to get sent to the Doom Room on your first day."
Astrophel blinked to her senses at the mention of the Doom Room. "Right," she said, disappointed. "Okay." Astrophel glanced longingly at the Reader, who stared as Astrophel licked her sharp teeth with her pointed tongue.
Both Raven and Scarlet had to drag Astrophel away.
After breakfast, both Evers and Nevers hurried to their first class, anxious to get started. For the Evers of group six, Good Deeds was their first class.
Stella took her seat near the front of the classroom, Bernadette and Hadleigh on either side of her. The room was spacious and brightly lit by sunlight streaming in through the windows. Vases filled with flowers were plentiful and scattered throughout the room, and a crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling. More Evers began to file in until the bell rang, and then Professor Clarissa Dovey stood up.
"Evers, welcome to Good Deeds, where you learn how to grasp your inner goodness," Professor Dovey said. "But before we start on anything, you are all required to take a short start-of-the-school-year exam."
There were a few gasps and titters about this.
"There is no need to worry," Professor Dovey continued. "There are no right or wrong answers. This test is only to see how much goodness you have in you. Please be truthful as you answer the questions." Then Professor Dovey began passing out a sheet of parchment to each student. "You may start," she announced.
Stella read the first question:
You see someone is badly hurt and you go to help them, but then you realize they are a Never. You…
Help them anyway. Remember, the Evil hurt, the Good help.
Leave them there. Nevers deserve to die.
Secretly help them, but make them promise not to tell anyone you helped them.
Stay, but taunt them instead of helping them.
Stella rolled her eyes and poised her feather pen to circle c, but then she wondered what Professor Dovey might think and quickly circled a. Professor Dovey said to be truthful, and Stella was most definitely not being truthful by circling a, but otherwise, she was afraid the professor might suspect something if she circled c.
Meanwhile, the Nevers were doing a similar test of their own, but in a different style. Professor Sheeba Sheeks of the Special Talents class had instructed her group of twenty Nevers to line up.
"Why?" someone asked.
"No questions," Professor Sheeks said. "Just do as I say."
Vesper, who worked hard to avoid conversations, found himself unexpectedly caught in one when a Neverboy walked up to him.
"Excuse me," the boy said.
Vesper's brain mentally blared out several warnings, but he stayed expressionless on the outside. Obviously, the boy didn't know what he had done wrong. Nevers never, ever say "excuse me," or "please," or "thank you," or any other mannerable phrases.
"Sorry," the boy said (Nevers never apologize). "I just think there's some sort of mistake, and no one else would help me here…"
"Reader," Vesper said immediately. "You're a Reader. That figures."
"No, I'm Harvey," the boy said.
"Shut up," Vesper hissed. "I didn't ask for your name, and I want nothing to do with you. Nothing."
"Line up!" Professor Sheeks reprimanded them.
Harvey reluctantly went to line up, only to have Vesper deliberately step in front of him.
"Cutting in line," Professor Sheeks said to Vesper with a tight smile. "Definitely Evil."
Vesper smirked.
Professor Sheeks walked to the front of the dank classroom and yanked off the cloth covering a large, rectangle object. The cloth fell to the ground, emitting clouds of dust and revealing a large, metal box.
Professor Sheeks beckoned to Scarlet, who was the first Never in line. "Step into the box," she said. "This machine analyzes you and reveals how much evilness is in you. Your results will be shared with the entire class."
Scarlet confidently stepped into the box with a wide sneer, and Professor Sheeks closed the door to the metal box. Everyone watched with bated breath as the ancient machine hummed for a few moments. Finally, a piece of parchment shot out of a chute at the bottom of the box.
Professor Sheeks bent down to retrieve the parchment. The door to the metal box opened, and Scarlet stepped out, unscathed.
"What are my results?" she asked boldly.
"Oh my," Professor Sheeks breathed, her voice coated with admiration. "These are very good results indeed. Ninety-nine percent Evil, one percent Good."
Everyone applauded, and Scarlet's sneer widened.
The line continued, Never by Never. Astrophel scored ninety-five percent Evil, Raven scored a sixty-six percent, a Nevergirl named Jezebel scored an eighty-six percent and a Neverboy named Atticus scored an eighty-three percent.
Then it was Vesper's turn. Vesper was dreading his turn, but it had to come at some point. He walked slowly and stepped into the metal box, letting the door shut behind him. When the humming began, he quickly filled his mind with diabolical thoughts in an attempt to hide his true self.
Please please please let my results be satisfactory. I know I'm Evil. I'm Evil, I'm Evil…
The door opened.
"Vesper," Professor Sheeks said. "You may come out."
Vesper did so, his heart thrumming anxiously.
"Well," Professor Sheeks frowned at the paper. "You scored the lowest so far today."
Everyone laughed.
"What did I get?" Vesper asked in his most indifferent voice.
"Fifty-five percent Evil, forty-five percent Good," Professor Sheeks said dryly. "I take back what I said to you earlier."
Definitely Evil. The words echoed in Vesper's mind.
Everyone booed.
"Lastly, the Reader," Professor Sheeks announced. At the mention of a Reader, everyone hungrily trained their eyes on Harvey, except Vesper, who was now in a foul and uncaring mood.
Harvey stepped into the metal box, and it hummed to life. Moments later, the parchment shot out of the chute and Harvey stepped out. Professor Sheeks picked up the parchment. Her forehead creased.
"Well, congratulations…" Professor Sheeks looked up at Vesper. "Vesper, you didn't score the lowest in the class after all. Somehow, the Reader scored lower than you." The professor said it with an air of sarcasm Vesper heavily disliked.
Harvey looked as if he didn't care whether he failed or not. Well, Vesper thought, he should care. Failing isn't taken lightly here. Failure is punishment at the School for Good and Evil.
"The Reader scored a fifty percent Evil and fifty percent Good," Professor Sheeks said, then she paused, letting that sink in. "How is that even possible?"
Most of the Nevers were staring at Harvey with stupefied expressions.
"But that's not possible," Scarlet said defensively, stepping up. She steered her accusing green eyes (also a very uncommon trait among Nevers!) at Harvey. "Pollux said so, at the Welcoming. 'All souls are fundamentally Good or Evil. You can't be both—that is physically and mentally impossible,'" she quoted.
Everyone turned to Professor Sheeks for an explanation, but for the first time, she was utterly speechless.