The Boarding School Experiment (11 page)

Because we were seated in front of the stage, Kaitlin and I were the last ones out, but like the others, we knew where our eggs hung. Everyone had been obsessing over these since the day we walked in, so the buzz of noise and excitement was high, except for me and Kaitlin. Today, we didn’t care about the egg game.

“I guess letting her rest makes sense,” Kaitlin said, removing her egg from the wall, and poking at the seal with her index finger. “What do you think?”

Hmm. I made a noncommittal sound. “We’ll try to see her this afternoon.”

“Okay, yes.”

I snatched mine and turned to go back down to the amphitheater. We got seats in the middle this time.

The director pointed at the kid nearest the stairs. “Come up here. Read the information inside your egg into the microphone.”

The student climbed the steps and swallowed. He assessed the crowd, tapped his egg on the side of the lectern, which made a few people laugh, then broke it open. “Uh, the shell has my own name, Bobby McQuire. Inside reads number 400,003, and 80%.”

The director chuckled. “High percentage.” He clicked a remote control, and the overhead screen lit up. “You see, when we did those tests back at your old schools, we weren’t only searching for the best and the brightest.”

I straightened, my gaze narrowing in. They’d hinted more than once that our selection wasn’t random.

“We were also looking for compatible pairs. We call it the Soul Mate Project. To a high degree of probability, we matched you with other teens around the country. Then those of you with the highest compatibility were stationed together.”

Students shifted in their seats, but stayed silent, intent on his every word.

“Using science, we have found your soul mates.” The director typed on his laptop and the number
400,003
appeared on the screen. The image of a girl popped up next. “We wondered how many of you would find each other on your own, before we made this announcement. That’s why last week’s questionnaire asked you who you were dating.”

The girl on screen rose and walked down the aisle.

“Creepy,” I said, thinking how Geneva would make a wedding march joke, one that rhymed.

“Compatibility.” Kaitlin tilted her head and sat up straighter, her eyes interested.

The director motioned for the next kid in the row to come up with his egg. One by one, he went through each row.

If their soul mate program worked, I hadn’t just screwed with Rhys’s academic future, but also with his love life. My switch ruined two couples: Rhys and his match, Piper and hers. My palms grew sweaty, and the egg almost slipped from my tight grip. I was holding Piper’s egg.
No. Don’t be stupid, Piper loves Jacob
. She didn’t want some random igloo guy, no matter what her compatibility exam said.

The director said, “Now remember, this isn’t 100%, but we believe in the science.”

He called Kaitlin next. Yesterday, she’d seemed like one of those girls with two parents and a new car for her birthday. Nothing bad had ever happened to such a sweet face. This morning, she had shadows under her large sad eyes. “Kaitlin Hildebrandt, 678,324, 98%.”

The room ooh’d over her statistic. 98% was the highest they’d called.

“Thane Trallwyn.”

Oh God. This was her something bad. Kaitlin matched with Rhys 98%, not Thane. Rhys, who was back home. Should I warn her? Should I shut up? Should I tell Thane? I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth.

A sharp nudge jabbed into my side. They must’ve called my name. I rose, wiping the egg on the hem of my sweatshirt, and climbed the steps. I leaned toward the microphone, talking too loud. My words were accompanied by a metallic piercing sound, and I read what was really Piper’s information, “Elena Carlisle, 222,987, 60%.” I hesitated over the name.

“Declan Pritchard.” I swallowed, and tried to make a nice smile.

Declan jogged over, with a pout on his face. “Sixty percent? Whatever, it’s probably stupid, but we should hang out sometime. You know, test their theory.”

I had no idea what to do. After wetting my dry lips, I said, “Sure.” My voice squeaked. I don’t have a squeaky voice. Girls were giggling around me, two of the new couples kissed. Ugh. “Um, sure, later.” I headed down the steps. The director continued to announce names behind me.

Declan followed. “You look kind of a mess. Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah, I’ll go clean up.” I grabbed the excuse and picked up my pace, losing Piper’s supposed soul mate at the exit. Well, he had a 60% chance at being her match. On my way down the hall, I passed more than one crying girl. Sobbing. As if their boyfriends were going to break up with them over this stupid game. This was just a staged distraction to help us forget about their incompetence as guides.

I didn’t believe these tests for crap, but from the expression on Kaitlin’s face and her pleasure over the 98%, she did. Thane might too, but not if I knew him at all. Still, I had to talk to him. I had to tell him about switching his test with Rhys’s. Not that he couldn’t still go out with Kaitlin and break her heart anyway, but he had to be told first.

I stopped retreating, and turned on my heel, returning to the amphitheater. The lights had lowered and a silver disco ball hung overhead. The decoration screamed the age of the coordinators, much more so than the Alaskan folk tunes they pumped into the room. When I went home for the holidays, I’d play music 24/7, all kinds, but nothing folksy and nothing Alaskan.

The program called for immersion, but we’d planned on having our own stuff: music, access to the Internet. Stupid earthquake. I’d suggested a climb down the crevice to retrieve our bags, but the coordinators had said
no
and painted an image of the earth contracting that had made me let go of the idea.

As I searched the crowd of couples for Thane, I wondered who got Geneva’s egg, and if he’d be allowed to see her. God. Claw marks. I shook the images out of my head and moved through the couples, wondering if this was the first time morning light had ever bounced off a disco ball.

One of the sunbeams glinted against Thane’s hair, giving the strands a bronze cast when his hair was more a sand-washed color. Kaitlin was whispering excitedly to him, words I couldn’t hear, and people walked by, slapping Thane on the shoulder like he’d been amazing for coming up with a definitive 98%. I swallowed and stepped up to the couple. Thane seemed distant. Kaitlin’s eyes shone glossy, big, and brown up close. No matter how this fell out, she’d at least be better off with the truth.

I didn’t care about Declan. Piper would hate that weasel. But Rhys was cool, and cute, even if he was a mess. I’d tell Kaitlin all about him and maybe she’d forgive me and not look at Thane as if he was her hero.

Thane didn’t seem enamored. His suspicious blue gaze switched to me and I swallowed. Would he still keep my secret once he knew we didn’t belong at the boarding school? Or would he try to give Rhys his shot? They’d said during orientation that no one could leave. But what about someone who wasn’t supposed to be here? The knot tightened in my stomach and my voice came out a whisper. “Thane, may I talk to you a second?”

Thane made one of his smirks. “Who’d you hatch? Unlucky bastard.”

I wet my lips again.

Kaitlin seemed a little shocked, and slapped Thane on the arm with a light, playful brush. “Behave.”

Thane didn’t have much patience for correction, at least not when it came to me. He straightened and said, “Later.”

Kaitlin’s gaze flew from him to the people near them. Pink flooded her face. “You can’t just leave me alone at the ‘get to know your soul mate’ mixer.”

“I’ll send him right back,” I said, trying to placate her, because Thane wasn’t going to. I hurried after his stomping feet.

When I caught up to him, Thane said, “There’re about to break out the champagne and the engagement rings. None of them have given Geneva a second thought. Have they contacted her parents? Why can’t we see her? Why did they send us out with an incompetent guide?” He stopped and turned to me. “You were going to run screaming too, weren’t you? The bear could have gotten you. Turned on you.”

“Shh.” I looked around. Normally I wouldn’t care if one of the coordinators took a shot at Thane, but I needed to admit everything without an audience. I had to confess before he and Kaitlin made some mistake, further screwing with Rhys’s life.

Thane crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have time for your petty shit, Elena.”

“Okay, let’s go back to the clinic. We’ll check on Geneva for ourselves and then you can talk to me. Okay?”

Thane straightened with purpose, and he strode directly to the elevators.

I grabbed his wrist and shook my head. “They said no visitors. We won’t get in that way.”

“Ah, I forgot, I’m standing beside someone who says,
Why use the front door if we can crawl in through the ceiling tiles?
What’s your plan?”

My first plan was to maintain my temper and ignore his return to the snarky-butt he’d been these last two years.
He saved my life
. I repeated it to myself:
Thane
saved my life
. I stuck the side of my thumbnails between my teeth, thinking, not really biting. Piper called this my plot-hatching pose. Geneva had been working with me to stop the habit, because the biting ruined my nails and she thought they would look better if they consisted of more than chewed up nubs. Right now a nice manicure no longer mattered.

“Wait here.” I raced toward my room. Of course, Thane didn’t wait. He stayed right behind me every step of the way. I went to the corner in the sty I called my third of the room and dug through the dirty clothes pile, grabbing for the hiking shirt. Ignoring the browned, dried stains—Geneva’s blood—I grabbed the badge and lifted it to show him. “When the coordinator fell…”

“What are you two doing in here?” Nevaeh asked from the doorway. “Practicing some egg-stasy?”

I shoved the I.D. behind my back and schooled my expression into innocence as Nevaeh stepped in my room. She was holding hands with a guy I’d seen making out with a red-headed diver. I remembered, because he had red hair too and the flaming affection was difficult to miss. Guess he dumped the redhead for his egg soul mate.

Thane moved behind me, taking the badge from my fingers despite my resistance. “We were saying our goodbyes.” A heavy arm landed across my shoulders. “Weren’t we, love?”

“Uh.”

“Don’t be shy now, everyone has a past.” He bent his head toward me, reaching for my mouth.

I jerked back a step, watching the smirk cover his pursed lips, and slapped him in the arm, hard. There was nothing playful behind my gesture. “Later, lover. We have an audience.”

“Lover?” A gasp came from the door, and a flushed Kaitlin looked at us with her wide baby-doll eyes. “Lover?” Her voice was soft. I don’t think she’d ever said the word before, much less used it twice in a row. She appeared ready to faint. “I didn’t know.” Her eyes seemed tormented, going from me to Thane.

I tried to convey an apology in my own. “Kaitlin, I’ll explain later.”

Nevaeh leaned forward with greedy attention, eager for drama. “They’re saying their goodbyes.”

Her blankets were so disappearing tonight.

Chapter Seven

“We’ll talk later, Kaitlin,” I said, as Thane towed me from the room. He must have stashed the keycard in a pocket because he was using both hands on me, steering me through the cafeteria toward the stairs.

One of the video screens blinked on. Someone had framed the monitor with a cutout in the shape of a heart. Photos of each new couple flashed every two seconds. It was like a dating website gone live. Really live.

Thane slowed. “Not much for some people to do, I guess.” He stopped at a copse of spruce trees.

Each tree sheltered a couple. We checked the game room next. The few private nooks were all occupied by newly matched pairs.

He tried to drag me toward the dorm rooms again and I jerked to a halt. “I know where to go.” Not many people made out in laundry rooms, at least, not in my experience anyway. Not that my experience was extensive, not like Thane’s.
Stop it.
This wasn’t about making out.

No one was on duty given the matching ceremony, so the dryers sat idle. Without their usual hum, the buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights sounded loud. The air was different too: cooler, less humid, but with the same soapy smell. I climbed on top and took down the grate, passing it to Thane.

“Stash it there,” I said, and swung up into the tube. He muttered something I didn’t catch and followed me. We climbed.

After we’d reached the plateau, I also showed him my newest discovery, the slots in the wall. “See these openings? I peeked through them, and think they drop down into the restricted area.” I pried the seam and demonstrated. “I think this was supposed to be a laundry chute. Or maybe it still is, and the janitor chooses not to use it.” The large slot opened into a small storage room: linoleum floor, brooms, discarded boxes. The smell of cleaning fluids wafted through the opening. Thane’s mouth half opened in a sly grin and his eyes brightened.