The Boarding School Experiment (20 page)

Thane’s go-cart swung around the tight corner, reaching the plateau. The back end fishtailed and knocked into one of the columns, going at a ridiculous speed propelled by gravity instead of gasoline. Slowed by its crash into the columns and the lack of an incline, Thane’s car rolled to a stop.

This was it. We were up. The increased thrum of distant but approaching engines filled the amphitheater. We ran to the go-cart and shoved. When we reached the edge we gave it a final heave.

It picked up speed, and in a mechanical mockery of Thane’s graceful leap during the first round, the wheels jumped over the pit. The front tires caught the edge of the stage and the undercarriage scraped, wood against metal as the go-cart moved forward a few feet. It abruptly halted with half the car on the stage and half off. The back tires hung suspended over the pit. Thane’s weight held the cart in place, keeping it from falling back.

Go-carts spun into view as the director tapped the victor flag on the hood of Thane’s car. Rhys didn’t wait. He ran down the aisle, up the stairs to the stage and held the cart steady while Thane crawled out. Together, they pulled all four wheels on the stage.

Roaring engines filled the auditorium as the other carts careened into view. Nevaeh was steering one of the ones in the lead. She braked down the aisle then hit the gas to create enough momentum to drive up the stairs and into second position. A third cart pulled in close behind her.

The director got behind the microphone and the metallic whine cut through the air. He had the volume set on boom. “Drivers, cut your engines. The three slots for the finale have been filled.”

The carts braked and the engines cut at whatever point they were in the auditorium. Everyone realized all ten carts wouldn’t fit on the stage.

It was the ugliest victory I’d ever seen. The most hard fought, and the one greeted with the least enthusiasm. Weak claps filled the amphitheater as Thane and the other two captains took their spots. Team Thane, Declan’s new team, and a genuinely enthusiastic third group would enter the finale.

When all ten carts had stopped, Kaitlin and I began the trek down the aisle. Thane had his arms open to me. I leaned into his solid strength, clutching at the fabric of his still wet T-shirt, breathing in the chlorine. Falling through the dark had revisited my worst nightmare and I didn’t have the ability to hide my need to be close to him. I bowed my head against the damp fabric, shivering.

The director tapped on the microphone. “Thank you, contestants.”

The spectators got quieter and the director continued, “Due to some unforeseen tampering, we’ve made the decision to place all final contestants into isolation before round three.”

Thane’s arms tightened around me and I tried to stop shaking. We were fine. We were all fine.

“All of us?” Declan stepped forward and spoke to the director in a loud voice. “I hate to do this, but I have to be honest. I have something to report.” He looked at our team. “Rhys wasn’t in our room last night.”

Everyone stared at Rhys.

Rhys put his hands in his pockets, cocked his chin up, and lifted his eyebrows.

Kaitlin stepped forward, her face on fire. “He was with me.” Her voice squeaked out the lie.

“All night?” Declan asked. His lips curled into a sneer.

Rhys dropped his bored expression, and his gaze became menacing, tracking Declan with glittering eyes.

“Yeah, and we weren’t sleeping.” Kaitlin’s voice wobbled and her face got redder.

“Guess I went after the wrong roommate,” Declan said, his expression insulting.

Thane let go and stepped in front of me.

“Enough,” the director said, “All contestants will sleep in the clinic tonight, under guard. That way, no one can be accused of tampering. Then the contestants will be escorted off campus to the mountains to complete the final round.” He clicked on a keyboard with high arching movements. The screen flickered, showing images of Mt. McKinley. Words scrolled across its snowy surface:
snowmen, skiing, sledding, snowboarding, and luge.

I wondered if Thane, Rhys, and every other student from the South, was thinking the same thing as me:
What the hell’s a luge?

***

They gave us time to return to our own rooms, shower and gather our stuff, but not long. When we were done, Coordinator Steele escorted Kaitlin, Nevaeh, and me back to the clinic.

Fifteen cots had been set up inside, three groupings of five divided only by curtains hanging from tracks in the ceiling. I hated being within the restricted area with 14 witnesses. I sat cross-legged on my cot across from Kaitlin.

She had divided her hair into segments and was winding it into spirals. I’d brushed my wet hair after my shower and clipped it up. The shampoo and lemony soap they provided covered the sterile smell of the clinic, but I still missed my hair products. As much as I missed them, Kaitlin missed hers more. I used to think curly hair was less work, but after living with her, I knew I was wrong.

“Did you see how they stared at us? Like we caused all those problems?” Kaitlin said.

We kept our voices low, given the lack of privacy.

“Only at the beginning. Like we’d sabotage our own cart.” Thane sank down beside me. His weight stretched the canvas, making me slant toward him. I gave in and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest, breathing in his solid strength. Before tonight, I would have said I adored his cologne, but I guess I adored him because we’d all used the same lemony soap.

Rhys stood by his own cot, sifting through the clothes they had given us for tomorrow. Thin, silk long johns to wear under our sweats, two pairs of socks each, stocking caps, puffy lined coats—nothing was familiar.

“Snowman,” Kaitlin said in a hushed voice. “I bet that’s the artsy portion.”

I appreciated her strategizing because that was our only hope to win. We didn’t have experience to draw on for winter sports. Not that I’d give up. If we couldn’t win, maybe we could still beat saboteur Declan’s team. That was my new goal anyway.

Rhys said, “We don’t get enough snow in Houston to make snowmen.”

“Ever?” Kaitlin asked.

Rhys dropped a confusing tangle of zippered coat lining and leaned against the wall in a half slouch. “Nope.”

Thane said, “I’ve vacationed in cold spots before, but I wouldn’t call myself an expert skier.”

I clenched my fists. “We are so screwed. I could have handled an ice climb. It’s the same principle as a normal climb. Grab the crevice or hack into the ice and create a crevice, but I don’t even know what
luge
means.”

Kaitlin giggled. “It’s like a go-cart on ice. Just have to hang on for the ride. You can do it.”

“Where are you from?” Rhys asked Kaitlin.

“Manhattan, but I did a year of boarding school in Switzerland, and it gets really snowy there.” Kaitlin’s voice dwindled at Rhys’s expression. “More so than New York.”

Rhys looked at her like she was a foreign species, his head tilted, his eyes assessed her. “You’re a Yankee?”

I could have kicked him. I bet Kaitlin was the first person from the north he’d ever met.

Rhys said, “Say car park.”

Thane lay back on the cot, pulling me down beside his tall body. We barely fit.

My heart thumped as I curved into him. No way I could sleep in this position. This was his worst strategy yet. Though I thought the words, I didn’t move.

***

Morning arrived. The cinnamon granola breakfast bar tasted chalky in my mouth and I drank the pulpy orange juice to wash it down. We’d all gotten over caffeine withdrawal since they didn’t serve it in the igloo, but this morning I would have given up a lot for a cup of coffee.

The door clicked open. The Scientist wheeled a squeaky cart into view. On the top lay plastic bags and cotton swabs. “We’ll be taking painless cheek swabs. The samples will prove that no one has taken performance-enhancing drugs. There have been rumors.”

I stiffened, instinctively rejecting the idea. “We’ve been locked in here. No one could get anything.” Not anything they weren’t already giving us anyway.

Nevaeh walked up to the cart. “Figures she’d want to weasel out of it.” She opened her mouth, looking expectantly at The Scientist.

He snapped on a glove, unwrapped a swab, and scraped at the inside of her cheek before sealing the sample and penning her name on the bag.

Kaitlin went next.

The Scientist said, “When did you start baking the cupcakes?”

“The day they assigned the chores?”

“And you usually make half a dozen to a dozen daily?”

“Yes.”

“And when did you first run out of supplies?”

Kaitlin shrugged. “Week one, I guess. We ran out of the baking powder first. I spilled some, and the other cooks used it during cake bake weekend.”

She didn’t mention how many cupcakes she and Geneva burned and threw out.

“And that’s when you got the large vat from the supply room? The vat of extra baking powder? How much do you use per recipe?”

“At first three tablespoons, but the dough wouldn’t rise, so my final recipe used two cups per bowl.”

His pen stilled. “Two cups?”

“Why?”

“No problem. The two guys are recuperating just fine. You must’ve just gotten hold of a bad batch.”

Kaitlin frowned and bit her lip.

The Scientist made her open her mouth. He took the cheek swab and motioned to me. “How are you feeling, Elena?”

“Fine?”

“How many of the cupcakes do you eat regularly?”

“One or two per day.”

He penned my answer. “And from your weigh-ins, you’ve lost ten pounds since you came here?”

I shrugged. “No TexMex, no fast food, no soda, lots of climbing.”

He raised the cotton swab. “Open.”

I kept my mouth closed. Suspicious eyes stared at me from around the room, but I couldn’t explain how much I didn’t want to give them a sample. I couldn’t even explain it to myself, it was just an instinctive revulsion.

“Open or your team will be disqualified.”

I swallowed and opened my mouth. The cotton coated stick jabbed and scraped at the inside of my cheek. The procedure was over in seconds. I jerked my head back.

The Scientist sealed the baggie and penned my name on the top. The wheels creaked and the cart squeaked as he went around the room and finished the other contestants.

The second The Scientist left, Declan said to me, “What’s your damage?”

I ignored him and made a new plan. When we got back, I’d climb to the off-limits area, and destroy those samples, all of them. I couldn’t explain my suspicious nature, but I trusted it.

Coordinator Steele came in next. “Time to get going.”

We gathered into lines, holding our coats. I bent my arms, feeling restricted and overheated with the slim fitting long johns under my sweats. Rhys stomped his hiking boots. We each wore ones that were a half a size too large to accommodate the winter woolens. The gear felt awkward.

Thane looked good though, with his broad shoulders and narrow waist. It took quite a physique to make this outfit work. He did.

He caught me looking and winked.

We headed out. I walked behind Kaitlin. She looked cute in the outfit. Her earmuffs covered her ears, and she smiled a small smile at Rhys. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with her, but he wasn’t running.

I was glad Kaitlin could smile now, because after we came in last and lost the chance to go home, we’d be stuck here until December with students who suspected us of cheating. A thought flickered through my brain, making my mood brighten. When we came in third, at least they’d know we hadn’t cheated. And when Declan and Nevaeh came back from their winning weekend, I’d make them pay.

***

Per the coordinators, assists within your own team were allowed. That was good, because individually we would have burned a lot of time staring at equipment and wondering what it did. By helping each other, we might appear less stupid, but I doubted it. Just stumbling out of the jeeps in our puffy, awkward gear looked idiotic.

“Where are the screens? The cameras?” Nevaeh asked.

Coordinator Steele hissed a breath through her nose. “Not on the mountain.”

A big, sneaky grin sat on Declan’s face. I should have been watching his expressions more closely. His cheating would kick into high gear today. Declan threw back his head and howled into the chill. Some type of Nebraska war chant, I guessed.

“And the wildlife?” Nevaeh pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. “Bears?”

Coordinator Steele opened her coat and showed us the butt of a gun protruding from an interior pocket.

Kaitlin gasped and stepped closer to Rhys.

I hoped Coordinator Steele was a better shot than she was a wilderness guide. I swung my arms and sucked in some fresh, crisp air. The thin air held half the oxygen as back home, so I’d have to breathe twice as fast.