Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series) by Melissa Brown

Susan. She was just a little baby. She knew nothing about their way of life, their community, or the prophet. But Ruthie would, and she would become one of the most important women on the compound.
    “Hold still, dear.” Janine tugged the fabric of the dress and woke Ruthie from her daydream. She was standing on a circular platform that felt like a mini-stage with white cotton covering every inch of her tummy, legs, and arms.
    My wedding dress.
    “We need to get this just . . . right,” Janine said with a pin sticking out of her mouth. Her teeth were clenched as she spoke.
    “Yes, ma’am.” Ruthie stood up, proud and tall and looked at Charlene and Loretta, the two youngest wives of the prophet, who were assigned to help her learn about the home.
    “You look just beautiful, Ruthie,” Loretta said, her eyes wide as she bounced up and down. Ruthie wanted to bounce with her but she knew Janine would scold her, and she didn’t want to get pricked accidentally with a pin. Janine was leaning over the hem of the dress and placing pins across the bottom. “The prophet will be pleased, that’s for sure.”
    Ruthie breathed in deeply, imagining herself at the front of the temple for all to see, promising to love and honor and serve her husband. It would be her first kiss. Her very first kiss.
    Wayne Steed tried to kiss her once. His mother had brought him and his sisters and brothers over to Ruthie’s house to play a few weeks after the prophet announced she was to be his bride. Mother Sarah was supposed to be watching the children, but she snuck inside to gossip with the other mothers. And while the little ones played tag, Wayne called Ruthie behind the shed in the corner of the yard.
    “Over here, Ruthie,” he said, waving her over with his hands. Wayne was a chubby boy with lots of freckles and bright red hair. He wasn’t handsome like Jordan . . . no, he was . . . What was that word Mama used to describe him? Awkward. Yes, Wayne Steed was definitely awkward. His shirts were always wrinkled and he smelled gross. Mama said he needed deodorant. Ruthie didn’t need deodorant yet, but Wayne definitely did. He stank.
    Ruthie knew what he wanted, what all boys wanted.
    Snakes, all of them.
    Her mother had taught her never to be alone with a boy . . . not until they were set to marry. And she already knew who her husband would be. Ruthie didn’t have time for boys like Wayne. She was going to marry the prophet.
    “Ruthie,” he called again. She walked to him, her hands on her hips, rolling her blue eyes the way Mama did when Ruthie didn’t do her chores or talked back.
    “What do you want, Wayne?”
    “To show you something, c’mon . It’s over here . . . in the dirt.” He was crouched near the fence, and she hesitated before bending down to see what on earth that boy was looking at. When she did, he lunged toward her with his hideous swollen lips, grabbing her arms with his grubby hands, smearing dirt on her favorite pink dress.
    “Don’t touch me!” she’d yelled, pulling away from his grip and falling to the ground. Her knee burned, and she could feel her cheeks get hot . . . really hot. Ruthie was so angry, she wanted to hit that awful Wayne. But she knew Mama would yell at her and that she’d most likely get a spanking.
    “Sorry.” He shrugged and kicked a rock. “I didn’t mean any—I mean, I . . .”
    He stopped talking and looked at the ground. He put both of his hands in his pockets and looked up at Ruthie. He must have noticed all the dirt on her dress because his forehead softened and he said, “Sorry about your dress.”
    “Don’t ever touch me again. Do you understand me?” Ruthie snapped. “I’m marrying the prophet, don’t you know that? You stupid boy.”
    In a huff, she’d left him standing by the shed and stomped inside to tell her mother. Ruthie knew her mother would tell Wayne’s mother, and he would be in big, big trouble. And she wanted that. He deserved it. Besides, if she