The Boarding School Experiment (12 page)

“We can…” I didn’t finish the sentence.

Thane swung onto the ledge, his broad shoulders filled the slot from one side to the other. He grunted and maneuvered to slide through, dropping the ten feet or so to the linoleum. The room was lit by the dull orange glow of a recharging drill. I flicked off the flashlight and left it behind. On the other side of the chute, Thane raised his arms.

I assessed his six-feet plus height and the drop. His height, plus mine, wouldn’t leave me far to fall. I curled into a seated position, swung my legs out of the opening, and pushed off, my feet swaying like a pendulum. Thane grabbed my hips.

I shook my head. “I got this.” His hands tried to guide my descent. My fingers clung to the edge.

His fingers tightened harder. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

My fingers tightened. You had to trust someone to let go. I couldn’t release my grip. “Move. I can make the jump.”

Thane grunted and yanked. I landed half against him and pulled away as soon as my feet touched the floor.

“Come on.” Thane opened the door and stepped out into a grey hallway. I didn’t recognize the area, but it had the same new carpet smell as everywhere else in the habitat, though the carpeting was covered with a plastic runner. The walls up here were normal grey plaster, no faux ice blocks.

My heart thumped faster than our slow pace warranted, and I tried to take even breaths. When we got to the first door, I dropped to my hands and knees to check for distortions in the light that would indicate movement in the room: nothing. I gave Thane a thumbs up, and he placed the coordinator’s badge over the sensor. The light stayed red. He swiveled the card around, trying to make solid contact. The light changed to green and a metallic click released the lock. We slipped inside. The room had an unused air. Plastic sheets covered the carpet, crinkling under our feet. I could see no visible purpose to the room: no equipment, no desks. We checked for staff and eased back out. Ahead of us, closed door after closed door lined the hallway, each one barred by a sensor panel.

I desperately wanted to peek in and find out what they hid, but who knew when we’d be caught. If this was our best chance to see Geneva, we had to make it count. We slipped down the hall, hugging the wall to stay off the runner. Anytime we crossed it, no matter how softly I stepped, the plastic gathered and crunched. I flinched with each sound, and tried to make my strides longer, to match Thane’s.

We reached the intersection and froze at the blur of movement. Thane pointed. A mirror hung in the ceiling, showing both sections of the corridor. No one was coming. The flash I’d seen was our reflection. I rose from the crouch I hadn’t realized I’d sunken into and followed Thane around the corner. The carpet here was uncovered. We were getting closer. A door stood ajar five feet ahead, revealing a room with a large conference table surrounded by empty chairs. Hugging the wall, we moved further down. To our right was more carpet and to the left, tile.

“Tile,” I said, barely above my breath. Thane lowered so his ear was closer to my mouth. “They wouldn’t carpet a clinic. Too messy. And there was tile under our feet when we came in from the hike.”

He nodded. The further we walked, the heavier the medicinal odor grew. A heart rate monitor beeped. The mechanical rhythm was slower than my own thumping heart.

I swallowed and looked into the room. Coordinator Steele lay in a bed with her eyes closed, hooked up to all kinds of machinery. The top of her head was wrapped in a bandage. She appeared not ashen or jaundiced but actually green-tinged. On top of that, her skin had the oily sheen of an acne commercial.

“I told her not to eat those berries,” Thane said, his voice quiet. “You never eat white berries in Alaska.” His voice didn’t hold pity as he turned away.

One door over, we heard more beeps. Dad’s room had sounded the same after the accident. My muscles relaxed. The sound meant life. I stared at the entryway, and stiffened again, suddenly not wanting to go in. I didn’t want to see the other side, my friend in pain.

Thane had no such hesitation.

Geneva lay still, covered in bandages, but her dark eyes were open and they locked onto us with recognition.

“Hey,” I said softly and moved to her side. “We’re not supposed to be in here, but I wanted to check on you, find out if you needed anything.”

“And that you were still alive,” Thane said.

I refrained from kicking him.

Geneva swallowed and her voice came out in a hoarse rasp. “No, it’s okay. Got me pumped full of pain meds, so mostly sleeping.” She looked at the door. “Everyone else okay?”’

“Yeah. They aren’t allowing visitors. So we had to sneak.”

Geneva nodded, and raised her bandage-covered hand an inch before letting it fall to the white sheet. “This is real, but I’ll heal.”

Relief washed over me, and I grinned. Outside the room, wheels squeaked on the tile floor. “Okay, feel better, we gotta run.”

“Okay,” Geneva’s eyelids flickered lower. All in all, she seemed better than the coordinator.

I peered out and up, checking the hallway for mirrors, but there weren’t any. I couldn’t spot the source of the noise. I darted into the hall, heading for the unoccupied carpeted area. Thane sprinted too, pacing me, not pausing, racing to beat the sound of wheels on tile.

We reached the utility room, and I slid inside and took a breath, palm to thumping heart. The vent seemed higher. Getting up would be harder.

Thane didn’t give me time to think. He grabbed some boxes and stacked them. “I’ll go first and pull you through.” He climbed up.

We heard the wheeled sound again.

At this point, Thane hung half out of the tube with the boxes below him.

The wheels stopped. I jammed the broom handle under the door lever and unstacked the boxes as Thane slid out of sight. Behind me, the door handle depressed and the broom shook in warning. I leapt into the corner. The broom wobbled. I shrank down, trying to become invisible. The door opened, and I watched with a pounding heart as the janitor’s yellow cart shoved through. The door snapped shut behind it, leaving me alone. Steps sounded from the hallway, then silence.

I shoved the cart flush against the door and crawled on top, balancing on the hard plastic edges. I held my hands up to Thane, feeling the pull in my arms as he lifted me up and over. We collapsed on the plateau and I grabbed one of my blankets, clutching the softness. Thane’s chest rose in a steady motion. The back of his fingers rested against mine.

I don’t know how long we stayed there, but we didn’t speak, not even when we rolled up and headed back down the chute. Not until we jumped from the dryer to the floor of the laundry room, back to reality.

My palms grew damp. I had to confess. “Thane…” I followed him, clearing my throat and spoke louder, “Thane…”

He didn’t answer. I swallowed my words, and followed him all the way to his dorm room. We needed privacy for this discussion anyway.

We didn’t have it. Kaitlin stood in the doorway of Thane’s room, holding one of her cupcakes. “There you are. I made you this. It’s strawberry. Uh. Hi, Elena.”

I took a step back. “Hi.”

Irritation flickered over Thane’s face and his blue eyes held no hint of warmth when he looked at Kaitlin.

Wait a minute. If Thane didn’t like Kaitlin—if her pretty Cupie doll appearance didn’t do it for him—then I didn’t have to betray Piper. My tension eased with the realization. Thane wouldn’t be falling for Rhys’s match, so Kaitlin wouldn’t be hurt. This would all work out. “Catch you guys later,” I said, and jogged down the wolf hallway.

I patted the painted snout of one of the running wolves as I turned the corner and almost bumped into The Scientist. “Sorry,” I said, stepping out of his path. Teachers seldom ventured down here.

He waved a smooth arm. The laboratory coordinator wasn’t overly muscled. He moved with the weird fluid grace of a ballet dancer. Something about him creeped me out, or maybe I was just disillusioned by all the coordinators now. I stepped around him with a fake smile.

He said, “How is your anxiety, Elena? Mild, moderate, or severe?”

“Gone,” I lied and picked up my pace.

***

In Biology class, we’d learned that the soul mate program hadn’t seen much success. The Scientist put charts and graphs on the smart board and pointed out our failings. He concluded that teenage rebellion created the problem. We didn’t like our matches because they told us to like our matches. Therefore, all couples had to put forth more effort. They mandated date night.

I didn’t want to go out with Declan, not now, not ever. But oddly enough, I sat here, spearing a tater tot on a fork, opposite my faux soul mate. I chewed the crispy oblong potato and thought about laundry. My shift had caused date night to start late. With Declan pouting about how hungry he was, I hadn’t even had time to shower or change. Sure, we all wore sweats 24/7, and Kaitlin always said I smelled like fabric softener after my shifts, but my hair frizzed, and I would have liked the chance to redo it. Out of everything we’d lost when our bags had been swallowed by the earth, I missed my hair products the most.

Declan sat across from me, flicking a crumb with his forefinger. “Everyone blames
us
for messing up the hike. No one can go outdoors because you guys screwed up.”

“What?” I brought my focus back to him and off the next bite.

“Yeah, if you guys hadn’t screwed up, we wouldn’t be on lockdown.”

The cabin fever had been getting to me too, but I wasn’t jumping down his throat about it. I wanted out of here as much as everyone else. No, more. I’d tasted freedom, and this hamster habitat hadn’t been my first pick to start with. “I’m from Texas. We don’t have bears. Of course, I didn’t know what to do.”

Declan didn’t respond and his pout puffed out his lower lip. Sulking became my least favorite quality in a man.

I jabbed my fork at the tray, spearing a runaway tot. We’d been on a real veggie kick lately and tots were as high calorie as the meal got. If the waist on my sweats got any looser, I’d have to drop a size. Or, maybe all the climbing was slimming me down. I thought they were supposed to fatten us up for the winter to conserve body heat. Instead, they’d placed us all on diets. Whatever. I pushed my plate away, rejecting the broccoli squash casserole.
Make peace
, I told myself, because I didn’t need a new fight. Piper wouldn’t thank me for it later, when all this came out. Not that this loser could be her match. I’d never believe that. I needed a new topic. “Are you ready for Round Two?”

Declan said, “I hear there might be a reward after Round Two. We need a do-over since our last reward was ruined. Redemption, man.”

“The reward is you advance to the Final Round and win a trip home.” I swallowed and attempted a smile. “Any news from your family?”

“Of course, I get the weekly email transcriptions, like everyone else.”

I tried to look interested, widening my eyes and lifting my eyebrows. “Where are you from again?”

“Nebraska,” Declan said with an impatience that told me he’d already shared that fascinating tidbit. He smashed another crumb between his fingertips and the table. “My little sister got an ‘A’ on her English test, and they all went to a movie to celebrate. I’d kill to go cruising, mudding, anything, to get out of here. But we can’t. You know. The bear and all.”

He said the word
bear
with doubt, as if he didn’t believe we’d seen one. How did he think Geneva got hurt, if it wasn’t a bear?

“It’s about my bedtime,” I said. “You know, a sleepy inhabitant’s an unhappy inhabitant.” I popped up and left him alone with my tray of half-eaten dinner. He could return it and be happy I didn’t throw it in his face. That was what guys did on dates here. The height of romanticism was carrying your date’s tray to the tray return. Geneva used to make the best stupid military jokes about the tradition.
Lead, follow, or pick up my tray.

I glanced up at the restricted area. When were they going to let us visit Geneva already? Kaitlin and I asked daily, but no go. I stomped into the hall and down to our room. Empty, though a new envelope lay on my pillow. I flipped onto my back and ripped it open.
Hope you are doing well, blah, blah, blah. All is so great here. The money is coming in handy with the bills. Thank you.
I shifted onto my side and scrunched up my pillow.

Kaitlin tiptoed in. “We’re 98 % compatible, so how come my date with Thane was so bad?”

Her words made me feel guilty, so I lowered my eyelids as if I were falling asleep.

The sound of a fist beat on the wall,
bang, bang, bang
, and Nevaeh yelled from the other side. “Can y’all shut up already, and turn out the lights?”

I sat up, crawled out of bed and spritzed Geneva’s mango perfume under the door into the shared bathroom. Nevaeh hated the smell.

Kaitlin giggled, curled into her bed, and flipped off her lamp. That left one on.

“Kaitlin.”

“Yes?”

“Would you want to see if we could get out of here somehow for a few hours?”