The Boarding School Experiment (8 page)

Thane’s chin tilted and his gaze examined the board.

“If your name is up there, rise and take a seat in the front two rows.” I maneuvered down the aisle, happy to see my roommates. Our study sessions had paid off. We three took seats together.

The team leaders lined up on the stage, spaced evenly apart.

Coordinator Steele held out a box to each leader so he could draw a number. Thane drew. A number flashed on the screen overhead.
One
. He’d draw first.

The director said, “There are five legs in this competition. Four will be named. One will remain a mystery. If we name a task you could excel at, volunteer.” The screen went blank then flashed.
Leg One: Art.

Good one. Art’s not a sport.

Kaitlin was the first to jump up. Before I could warn her, she waved both arms in the air. Thane selected her.

They reshuffled the numbers for the next set. Thane drew fourth. The category popped up.
Swimming.
Geneva sprang up beside me. The first team member picked a guy, so did the second.

Geneva’s face fell. “They never think African Americans can swim.”

“They don’t believe that.” I bounced up and waved her arm high. “All state swim champ.” Team leader three stared hard, then selected a strong-looking white guy.

Thane was next. He didn’t even hesitate. “Geneva.”

I stood in the pool of unchosen players. Three categories remained. I had to volunteer soon or my fate would pick me. They shuffled the numbers again.

Thane drew a
one
. He pumped his fist in the air. “Yes.”

The board flashed blank and the new category appeared.
Rock Climbing.

Thane’s turn.

I kept my hand down.

Thane said, “Elena Carlisle,” without looking away from the category.

Thane knew I could climb. Everyone who knew the story of my dad knew it. But I was surprised he put our history, our animosity, aside and chose me. If our roles had been reversed, and they had called
soccer
, I’d have never picked him, though he’d led our team to state last year.

I joined the others on stage, a little dazed. Both my roommates hugged me and while I returned their hug, I looked past them to size up the other teams. We were the only team with three girls, so I bet they underestimated us. Good.

The screen blanked and next category came up.
Diver.

The coordinator tossed the hat aside and pointed at the board. Names scrambled. “The final team member will be chosen at random.”

Team Thane
popped up on the board, then the name
Declan Pritchard
. I knew Declan and his pout from the laundry room. He high-fived us but didn’t look thrilled, and I had to admit we weren’t the brawniest group. Other than Declan and Thane, we had no brawn at all.

“Lean and mean,” Geneva muttered. “Lean and mean.”

The screen flashed blank, and a question mark appeared. The director leaned into the microphone. “The fifth leg will be run by your team captain. As we stated earlier, it will be a mystery category to be announced during the race.”

The crowd murmured.

After the final placements concluded, they handed out a sheet of rules.
The top ten winners advance to next round. The top three winners of the second round move to the finale.

One player started complaining, and Coordinator Steele stepped up to the lectern. “Teams are final.” She tapped on the microphone and an annoying ring reverberated through the amphitheater. She looked out at the remaining two-thirds of the student body. “Before each round, you will vote for one of these teams to win. If you choose correctly, you will be exempt from one exam or homework assignment of your own choosing. There are three rounds. That gives you the opportunity to win three exemptions.”

The remaining students, who’d been apathetic at best, perked up with this news. They started sizing us up with greedy stares, as if we were new apps on the cell phone market.

“And of course, the team who wins the finale will be excused from classes one Friday to enjoy a three-day weekend at home.”

I’d get to go home for my birthday without taking money from my parents. Home: TexMex, movies, my family, my lamp. I could find out how everything was going with Piper, and I could talk to Rhys. I bounded up to Thane and stared straight into his blue eyes. “We’re winning.”

His eyes glinted and a smile curved his lips before he nodded. “Practice every day.”

Geneva waved her hands in the air. “Team Thane’s bringing the pain.”

We walked back to the dorm as a group, trying to guess the specifics of the challenges we’d face.

***

One of my taller competitors in the rock climbing competition bent low and jumped for the second set of anchors before scrambling higher. “Wearing new hiking shoes sucks.”

“Yeah, I’m wearing my old sneakers while we practice,” another said. He bounced up and down on the first row of anchors, testing his weight. “No blisters.”

The idiot needed to break in his gear. But I wanted to win, so I didn’t correct him. I pasted another adhesive bandage on the side of my foot to cover a stinging blister, then slid two pairs of socks on over them.

Anyone strong enough to lift his own weight could easily scale this wall. This course consisted of a set of anchors leading to an outcropping. Once there, contestants crawled across boulders for 20 feet to reach the second grouping of anchors. Then they climbed to a large ledge where the divers waited to be tagged. Next, the diver moved to another ledge and leapt from there into the swimming pool.

The problem was, they’d made the course so easy that my experience as a climber wasn’t much of an advantage. The only positive besides my experience was the strength I’d gained in my arms from the laundry room chores.

“Hey.” Declan sank onto his butt and leaned back to watch the climbers practice.

“Hey.” I suppressed my irritation and shoved the adhesive bandage wrappers in my pocket. Declan should be at the top of the rock, diving or jumping, not down here. But people don’t like to be told what to do. I slid my shoe on, and the pinch made me give in to annoyance. “Shouldn’t you be up there?”

“This is just a game, and all I get to do is dive. Big whoop. I should do the climb.” He kicked some of the loose rocks. “Or the mystery event. We’d win for sure if I’d have picked the players. Instead, I’m stuck on the girl team. No offence.”

“You’re going to win because you’re on this team.”

Geneva walked over for the last bit of our discussion. She wore a wrap over her swimsuit and carried one of the strawberry cupcakes from this morning. She’d swum twice a day without fail since the announcement, and the smell of chorine surrounded her. “Yeah, suck it up, buttercup.” She sank down beside Declan, but addressed her next words to me. “How’s the climb?”

I tied off my laces and nodded. “I’ve got this.”

Declan said, “I’m not saying you don’t. I’m just saying I could do it too.”

I ignored him. Picking a fight wouldn’t help our cause and we had to win.

“Good, because Kaitlin’s ice cream poem is kick ass.” Geneva bit into the cupcake after offering me some.

I chewed and swallowed. She was right. Kaitlin hit on some of the things missing here: pets, malls, old friends. She’d coated all the sentiment with humor, which was critical, because her segment depended on the audience’s vote. They’d key in a score after watching her perform. Unless they hated life, she’d win.

Declan shifted so he lay flat on his back and lowered his eyelids. “I don’t know. There’s a chick in the north dorm who can sing. We’ll probably lose that round to her.”

***

I rolled one of my extra blankets under my pillow and propped up on it to see my roommates better. “I could imagine liking it here, if the cafeteria served TexMex, the city had a mall, and my family lived closer than nine hours away. Basically, if they plopped the igloo in the middle of Houston, it’d be okay. Bizarrely out of place, but survivable.”

Geneva snorted, and shook her bottle of bright orange nail polish. The manicure caused our whole room to smell like a poorly ventilated salon, but Kaitlin and I didn’t care. Our suitemates had bitched about the stench, and their grumpiness made us not care even more.

Kaitlin lay curled in a ball. She flushed a little. “I kind of like being here. I’m not so alone.”

I thought of Piper. “My best friend’s an only child, I get that.”

“Lonely Only.” Geneva shook the bottle again, and the little ball rattled. “I have three kick ass brothers in the Navy. When they’re home, I share meals with men who do pushups in the mud and eat things that crawl on the floor. I’d loan ’em out to you.”

“My younger brothers eat stuff off the floor and play in the mud, too.”

Geneva nodded. “Genetic barbarians. I’ve dated some of the kings of the Y chromosome.”

Kaitlin stared, eyes wide. “I haven’t been around guys much.” She rolled on her side, plucking at the extra blanket. Her face flushed. “I’ve never even been kissed.”

Geneva shook the bottle with more force. “Lady. What are you waiting for?”

Kaitlin shrugged and blushed a deeper, painful-looking red. “I was always shorter, smaller, younger. Guys treat me like a kid.”

“You’re normal-sized, just petite.”

“This summer, I grew and got curvy.” Kaitlin curled into a seated position. “But the boys still acted like I was their sister.”

“That’s just sad,” I said.

“Sad?” Geneva said, half in agreement, half in question. “Who’ve you been kissing?”

I breathed out, clasped my hands overhead and stretched. “My last kiss was a shithead back home, but he could kiss.” I grinned at the electric memory.

Geneva swiped a hand in front of her throat and pointed at the door. Our team leader leaned against the doorjamb, wearing a tight navy v-neck shirt and a cocky expression.

“He could kiss, huh?” Thane said.

“That’s the part you heard? Not the shithead part?”

Thane shrugged and dropped beside me. His weight depressed the mattress, upsetting my balance.

Geneva’s eyes narrowed with enlightenment while Kaitlin buried her face in her pillow. Clearly, Kaitlin hoped he hadn’t overheard the first part of our conversation. I wished he hadn’t heard the last.

I poked his thigh with my foot. My bright orange pedicure stood out against his navy sweats. “Are you here to talk strategy or have your ego stroked?”

Thane ignored my toes, leaned back on his arms and shrugged, making his biceps bulge in that
guy who works out and eats protein
way. “Can’t we do both?”

Geneva put her polish away. “I’m up for some strategizing.”

Thane hung out with the three of us for a couple of hours, talking about the other teams and how best to take them down.

Declan never joined us.

***

Game day arrived. I stood at the base of the mountain, assessing the anchors. Rising on my tiptoes, I stretched my arms overhead, enjoying the pull of muscles and looked up high, trying to spot Declan. He stood with the other teams’ divers on the outcropping at the top of the ramp. He lowered to a seated position and kicked his legs out.

Grr. The other contestants stood ready at the edge or stretched like me. And, I knew they’d practiced. Declan’s refusal to rehearse unnerved me and I tried to shake the sensation.

Eager tension helped a climb, sick nervousness hurt. I had enough going on in my stomach with Kaitlin’s Good Luck cupcake lying there like a blueberry rock. She had baked daily for practices. This morning Declan had refused his cupcake like always, his lucky cupcake; not that I’m superstitious, but still, no practice and no luck equaled losing.

The bandage on my pinkie toe poked into my fourth toe and I wiggled them around, wishing I had time to fix it, but taking my shoe off now was too risky. If I lost this chance to go home because I had my shoe off when Kaitlin rounded the corner, I’d never look at shoes again.

I crossed my fingers, and gazed at the screen, watching for Kaitlin’s turn to recite her poem and dance. Finally, it was her turn. She leapt across the stage, a high acrobatic leap, no shyness in her dance, just athleticism, and grace in motion. She had this. When we’d started, she had talent and lifelong lessons behind her, but even so, her rigorous practices had upped her skills unbelievably. When the final scores popped up, cheers came up from the amphitheater echoing to our level. I stared at the entry and knew she’d be running in first.

I blew out a breath and swung my arms to loosen up. I’d practiced. I had experience. I had this.

Feet pattered on the floor, and Kaitlin rushed around the corner, hair flying, arms waving. “Go,” she yelled in a breathless, excited voice.

I reached for the initial anchor, breathing in the granite from the mountain’s surface and chlorine from the nearby pool. The smells were familiar because I’d been at this daily. I scaled the first section with easy sure movements. My nerves disappeared by the time I reached the boulders, and I scrambled across them with ease
. Do this and you get to go home.
The mantra challenged my focus, so I pushed it aside, keeping my head in the game. Using Kaitlin’s cheers to block my competition’s grousing, I enjoyed the moment: the height, the rush of power that came with a climb, and the adrenaline tempered by control. I reached the next set of anchors and heard the second contestant below me scream, “Go.”