Free The Choosing (The Arcadia Trilogy Book 1) by Rachel Hanna, Bella James

order, no matter how loudly the guards barked at them where they were meant to go, to sit, what to eat, how long they had. Speculation ran riot. Voices soared upwards. Boys and girls alike cried for home and mothers and fathers.
    The scent of food wafted over the madness. The entire room smelled of salt and chicken and coffee. Livy also smelled bread, though nothing as delicious as the bread made in Agara. Julia dragged her into line for a tray of food, and then to a table, and then, despite the level of noise, the orders and the babble and the crying, there was a measure of calm, and all they had to do for the next several minutes was eat.
    When the basic needs were taken care of, Livy found herself looking up. She was surrounded by people her own age, everyone here was sixteen, either on the early end of it like she was, or nearing seventeen, only just a little too late.
    Across from her two boys in grey uniforms shared some story, their eyes serious and intent as they talked. Watching them, she realized the one on the left, diagonal from Livy, was Simon, who might have been sixteen, but looked older, on the brink of adulthood. He was fair haired, the way so many from Tundrus were. Her father had introduced her over the years to more visitors from the cold countries than most people in Pastoreum might have met. It always seemed to Jep Bane that an exchange of information could lead to an exchange of talents and skills, so into their house came mathematicians and bakers, seamstresses and other blacksmiths, masters of horse and veterinarians. The cold country produced men who knew how to sail the icy seas that lapped from the northern end of Oceanus, and those who knew how to ice fish. Her mother often asked what good that would do anyone in Pastoreum, her voice lightly teasing, but Jep believed in exchanging knowledge and he taught ice fishermen and shipbuilders how to shoe horses they didn't have and bend iron into implements they didn't need. That truly was a fair exchange of information – equally useless to both.
    Simon, the boy from the cold countries – both of them were, really, but the only one who caught and held her attention was Simon – had the chiseled cheekbones and jaw of a northerner, and the light blue-grey eyes. Broad shoulders and heavy, well muscled arms showed now that he was off the bus and wearing only a loose uniform with short sleeves.
    His friend, beside him, was also fair, the two of them seriously talking and the friend chewing the edge of a thumbnail. Livy could remember her mother once laughing at Pippa who, in the throes of a crush that wasn't yet on the hapless Denny, had just told her mother how smart a particular boy seemed to be. Mad had replied maybe he was and maybe he wasn't, but it was best not to confuse the squinting of nearsightedness with intelligence.
    And during the laughter that ensued at Pippa's expense, she'd added quietly, "Sometimes nearsightedness can make it very difficult for the person to see anything at all."
    That just made her homesick all over again. So into the conversation across the table, she said, "Hi. I'm Olivia Bane, and this is Julia – 'er, Julia." And held out her hand, knuckles first, expecting the boy she didn't know to greet her back in the familiar Pastoreum bump that spared the fingers for the work of growing and harvesting food.
    Instead, the two exchanged a quick glance, then the boy she didn't know slid his open palm onto her forearm and wrist, and Livy blushed, remembering only then that Tundrus people, often hampered by woolen mittens or leather gloves, greeted this way.
    "Trevor," said the boy, and motioning to the boy Livy had been watching with the intensity Pip watched Denny, and gestured at his friend. "And Simon."
    "We've met," Simon said, and smiled lazily.
    They were interrupted by two girls on Trevor's far side, who piped up and held out their hands. They wore the sea blue uniforms of Oceanus, and greeted by grasping wrists, as if