The Boarding School Experiment (3 page)

He kept walking. “You owe me one,” he said.

I’d rather have detention all week than owe Thane. Careful not to get the oil on my shoes, I looked back toward the principal’s office and thought about confessing, blowing Thane’s lie, but I couldn’t do the time, because I was starting a new job next week. Consistent minimum wage paid better than babysitting and dog walking. “Sure,” I said to his back. “I’ll save you a slow dance at homecoming.”

Thane stiffened and this time my smile was genuine. He’d never want to dance with me, any more than I’d want to with him. His girlfriend, Portia, wouldn’t care. She was popular, confident, and sure of their relationship—the other half of the tall blond couple who wore new clothes with perfect glossy smiles. I was lucky I’d had my braces put in before Dad’s accident or I’d be crooked-teethed, brunette, and resentful. Now, I was straight-teethed, brunette, and pissed.

Thane glanced over his shoulder. His patch-covered letter jacket arced through the air. “Have this cleaned.”

Instinctively, I caught it and my forearm registered stings as the tiny shards of glass jabbed into my skin. Ouch. I lifted the jacket away by the collar, holding it at arm’s length as if the fabric was radioactive. Thin scratches marred the inside of my arm, like long paper cuts, angry red with blood. This had not been the most injury-free revenge, especially for one that had started with a vial of perfume.

Thane backtracked and grabbed for my wrist. His big fingers circled it like a handcuff as he frowned at the marks. “What’s this?”

I jerked free and shook the material in an attempt to dislodge any other shards. “It’s fine.”

Thane reached for the sleeve, frowning, searching for the cause of the injury, but I stepped aside and held the prize behind my back. I could have thrown it back at him. After all, he’d ruined my clothes first, but I had plans for this patch-covered ego fest. “Oh, no. You wanted me to take care of this for you.” I smiled my best wicked grin. “I will.”

I would, and he’d regret it. I turned away and ran toward the line of buses. Rain plopped on my skin, the cold drops synchronized to my steps. Using the jacket as an umbrella, I hoped the imminent downpour would hold off a bit longer because the bus driver wouldn’t open the door until 2:38 exactly, no matter how hard the rain fell.

***

In our old house, we each had our own rooms. Here, in the rented single-wide, that wasn’t an option. My younger sister Callie and I shared a bedroom with a lone narrow window. Our two little brothers, Mark and Caleb, had a smaller windowless room. The boys were too young to mind sleeping in a room with wood-paneled walls. Callie and I remembered better digs.

Sometimes I slept with the light on. To limit the glow to my half of the bedroom, I kept a scarf draped along the back of the shade. My sister preferred the room darker, but she never complained about my bad habits. Neither of us wanted to add to Mom’s worries by fighting over something so minor.

Moonlight shone through the thin yellow curtain, brightening our space. For a second I considered turning the lamp off, but then the clouds shifted, darkening the room again. I’d turn off the lamp during the next full moon. A full moon would probably light our little room enough.

I shifted, re-squashing my pillow, breathing in the familiar fabric softener. At least our laundry hadn’t changed. I preferred my pillowcase’s rain-fresh fragrance to the candy-scented perfume smothering Callie’s half of the room.

The moon shifted again, illuminating the corner where I’d dumped Thane’s letter jacket. I had no idea what to do with the prize. The jacket jumped, the mattress shook, and the walls seemed to waver.
Thump.
My lamp toppled to the ground, blinking out. Callie sat straight up in bed and screamed.

I scrambled over to her. Her lax face and messy brunette hair said she’d been startled out of a deep sleep, not injured. “Calm down.”

Her hands clutched each side of her mattress and she straightened even more. “What’s happening?”

I left her and ran to the window, pushing aside the thin curtain. A plume of smoke hovered over the grey trailer on the end—Rhys Zukowski’s trailer. My shoulders eased. “It’s just the Zukowskis.” Rhys liked to blow things up. When we graduated, he’d either be a brilliant scientist or a demolitions expert. At least the smoke wasn’t from the meth lab again. Well, I hoped Rhys wasn’t running a meth lab.

Shorter by several inches, but still tall enough to peer out, Callie squeezed in beside me. The smell of burning plastic reached us now, and flakes of ash rained from the sky like burnt snow. The only kind we’d ever see in southeast Texas.

Click
.

Mom opened our door. “You girls okay?”

“Yeah.”

Mom moved between us, looking out, as Rhys strode from trailer, his head held high. She shook her head. “That boy.”

Rhys’s mom followed, screaming at him, wearing curlers and a bathrobe. His stepdad came out last, shouting at both of them. Living in the trailer park wasn’t without its perks.

Mom’s hand pressed into my shoulder, nudging me away from the window. “Back to bed.”

“We should go find out what happened.”

“Not tonight. Ask Rhys at school tomorrow.”

***

The next morning, I put on a concert T-shirt from last year. The fabric clung too tightly, but no tighter than most girls wore theirs. Whatever, I had to move or be late for the bus. Piper lived on the other side of town, so I rode the bus with Callie and her fellow loser-freshman. After an hour on the yellow dog, we were dropped in the back parking lot just in time to run for class. My poor sister had four more years of this. I was counting the days.

When I got inside, Piper stood at my locker, twisting her hands. Her grey-tinged complexion made her blend into the grey lockers, like a nauseated chameleon. “I hate that you don’t have a cell phone anymore.”

Me too.
I shrugged.

“Someone said the trailer park exploded! What happened?”

“Rhys, plume of smoke, that’s all I know. Is he here?”

“Haven’t seen him.”

We headed toward English class, and I described last night’s events. As we crossed the cafeteria, our simmering lunch wafted through the air. The lunch ladies started the meals about this time every day. I sniffed in the mystery, but couldn’t place the ingredients: beef or mushroom? Piper’s complexion went from grey to a sickly chartreuse and we picked up the pace.

Her pregnancy hadn’t seemed real until her face turned that shade of green. I’d seen that color a lot around the trailer park: on hungover people, sick people, pregnant people. I lowered my voice. “You okay? What are you going to do?” We cleared the cafeteria and Piper pinked up as if she was breathing easier.

A slow, blissful smile showed off her braces. “I don’t know. I thought I’d tell Jacob with a T-shirt. Like a Happy Father’s Day one. But that’s not ’til June, so it seems silly since the baby would be here. Help me think of something cute, maybe some type of Christmas saying. Baby’s First Christmas.”

She’d lost her mind. “Cute?”

“I mean this only happens once. First baby and all.” She rubbed her hand over her stomach.

Piper’s obliviousness frustrated me and endeared her to me all at the same time. My small prank had caused her great concern but the huge problem of her pregnancy seemed to be escaping her. I hadn’t lacked a grasp of reality even before Dad’s accident. We’d always had schedules, bills, and budgets. Perhaps her view had merit. Maybe life would just all work out.
Ha.

We shuffled into English class, but before we reached our desks, our teacher, Ms. Herrington, clapped her hands. “Special assembly today. Everyone down to the auditorium.”

Piper said, “What?”

Ms. Herrington clicked her nails together, a nervous habit that warned us something ominous was coming our way. “It’s the government boarding school test results.”

I swallowed and felt myself turn Piper’s sickly shade of green.

Piper said, “We just took the last test yesterday.”

“We teachers came in early and scanned the slips.”

The news jolted through the sleep-deprived students like a double espresso. Their excited voices raised, and Piper squeezed my arm.

Crap. Guilt bit at me. Not for what I did to Thane—he deserved it—but for switching Piper’s test with mine. I’d wanted to clear the situation with her before they announced the scores.

Piper grabbed my upper arm with tight fingers. “I have to find Jacob.” A note of panic laced her high voice.

I cupped my hand over my mouth and whispered urgently, “I changed our tests.”

“Jacob’s got gym. They’ll be the first ones in. We need to hurry.”

“Did you hear me? I switched my test with yours. You won’t be picked now. There’s no way.”

Piper stopped. Tears shone in her eyes. Her frown died, and a spark of her
it’ll all work out
confidence returned. I hadn’t realized exactly how much her worried expression bothered me. Piper was a rock in my world. A solid, life is good, fairy dust fills the air, and all will turn out well rock.

“Thank you,” Piper said, on a breath, looking at me as if I was Mother Theresa going swimming with the lepers.

“Keep moving, girls, please” Ms. Herrington said.

We hurried down to the auditorium and shoved into one of the back rows with the rest of our class.

The principal didn’t delay the news. He stood behind the lectern and rapped his cane against the wood panel. “I’m here to announce the results of your government testing. We all know that going to an elite boarding school is a wonderful opportunity.” His voice had a monotone sound, as if he was reading straight from a script. “Anywhere from one to four kids will be named from each of our top schools.”

He paused to tilt his head at the Trallwyn High sign. “Two students have been picked from Trallwyn. But despite the rumors, the chosen few will not be the smartest or the most athletic. The students were selected at random.”

Random? Voices rose, but I just sat there. I’d switched our tests for nothing. I mouthed “sorry” to Piper.

She smiled her serene smile, leaned into me, and whispered, “I’m not worried. There are four hundred kids in our class. If they’re not using class rank, what are the odds? 398-2. We’re safe.”

Thump, thump
. The principal rapped his cane on his palm. “If your name is called, please come up to the podium and join the program coordinators.”

I wiggled. A spring under the rough maroon fabric poked at the back of my knee. I shifted left. Piper curled her feet into her chair and leaned on the armrest.

“Settle down, people.” The principal shuffled the papers, and anticipation filled the auditorium. The room held the type of palpable energy that consumed a stadium seconds before a rock band kicked off their opening number.

I inhaled a slow breath. Piper grabbed my elbow, her tension returning in the reality of the moment. Her grip limited the blood flow in my arm.

“Relax, Piper, we’re good. They’re going to pick some random kid.”

“Thane Trallwyn.”

Thane! Random selection, my ass.
Thane stood, but didn’t pretend to look surprised. He moved into the aisle, all athletic stride and confidence. His girlfriend broke into tears, but everyone else clapped.

They’d just called one of the most athletic, smartest kids in our class. Piper’s hand tightened as if we’d reached the top of the first hill on a rollercoaster. She’d realized the selections were targeted.

Had they picked Thane without looking at the exams? Or, had they looked at them and chosen Rhys? Would Rhys want this opportunity? I searched for him in the crowd.

“Only one more,” Piper whispered. Her voice held hope.

I tried to form the words to tell her I had to confess the switch to the administrators and screw everything up, but I hesitated. Thane seemed so confident, standing up there with his shoulders back and his hands in his pockets. Maybe the tests were irrelevant. Maybe his parents had bought him a spot and the principal already knew the names of the rich, popular kids who were going. This announcement was just for show.

If Thane’s girlfriend got called next, I’d know the selection process was rigged, or if he called—

“Elena Carlisle.”

Me.

Crap.

Piper sucked in a breath, and she wasn’t the only one to react. The student in front of me turned to stare with slack-jawed bewilderment. I squirmed and sank lower. I had no time to find Rhys, no time to run.

Piper shoved a hand into my shoulder. “Go.”

My face hot, muscles tense, I rose from the seat. If I told the principal I’d switched Thane’s results, he’d suspect I switched mine. He’d figure everything out and send Piper away. I stood and stared at Piper. My feet refused to move.

Piper bounced into the aisle and hugged me. “Go, take it,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Rhys’s opportunity or Piper’s happiness?