The Boarding School Experiment (14 page)

“True.” Kaitlin’s voice softened. “But if it were, then 98 is pretty high.”

“It is. Um, and on a random note, I’m not taking their vitamins anymore.”

“My parents don’t believe in vitamins, but if they make you feel better.” She shrugged.

“They don’t.” I don’t know if that was strictly true. Other than my guilt over Rhys and my worries about Geneva, I’d never felt better. “I don’t trust The Scientist who gives them out.”

“Why not?”

“Why won’t they let us visit Geneva?”

“True.”

I followed her back to our dorm, thinking about the dance, and staying under the radar. Lay low. I agreed with Thane on that much.

“We got a shipment of special dresses,” Kaitlin said. “I hung ours on the shower to steam out the wrinkles.”

I felt a ridiculous rush of joy at the thought of wearing anything other than T-shirts and sweats. “I don’t know how they can get clothing shipments in, but not the Internet.”

Kaitlin giggled. “Wait ’til you see it.”

I groaned. “Navy or olive?”

“Nope.” Her look became mischievous and when I caught sight of the dress I knew why. Red: slit down to there and up to there, backless, no way Mom would let you wear it, red. I swiveled the dress on the hanger. “Would you wear something like this back home?”

“Never.”

I wouldn’t dare wear something this trashy. However, staying under the radar meant fitting in—and that meant uniforms, even if they were slutty red dresses. Besides, if I had to wear the sweats to one more outing, I’d pull a Scarlet O’Hara and make a dress out of the wolf wallpaper.

“We get slutty shoes, too.” Kaitlin held a pair of black super-high heels in the air, suspended on her index finger by black ballet ribbons.

“Those are meant for a walk of shame in bright morning light.”

Kaitlin laughed. “I kind of like the shoes.”

I did too. I peeked into the hallway to see if others were really wearing them. A sea of red strode in the direction of the amphitheater. The dresses were cut the same, but no one looked the same in them. The skirts were super short on the tall girls. They looked like models on those fashion-designer reality TV shows. The ones where the designer used up all his fabric, so he made a skirt out of his remaining strip, then he sent the model down the runway, hoping the judges wouldn’t notice.

I went to the bathroom and slipped on the dress. Being just above average height, the skirt fell to a decent mini-length on me, but my boobs curved out of the low neckline in a way that would have had Mom driving me to Walmart for a tank.

Kaitlin tugged at her straps. “OMG.”

I laughed. The skirt fell to a respectable length on her, but her upstairs pushed the limits of the top worse than mine. I held up Geneva’s mango perfume and spritzed the air in front of her, and then in front of me. “For luck.”

A knock sounded on the door.

Declan stood on the other side, waiting.

I tried to remember why I’d agreed to go to the dance with Declan, but the decision seemed so long ago. Now that stupidity was staring at me in greeting.

“Hi, ya,” Declan said.

His dark hair waved straight back and he looked handsome in his black tuxedo. Even his good looks irritated me. I kept wondering if Piper would like him, then got mad for giving any credence to the soul mate project.

“Hi.”

“You look really hot. Like, really hot.” Declan’s gaze didn’t lift higher than my chest.

I hated the note of surprise in his voice almost as much as I hated his choice of cologne. He wore a beachy, coconut scent. The fragrance didn’t smell bad, but the summer hues reminded me of everything missing in Alaska.

Kaitlin scooted around me. “See you two later.”

Declan stepped aside to let her pass, and his gaze shifted from my chest to hers. Kaitlin placed one hand over her gaping neckline, and let the other swing by her side. I bet she’d maintain the modest pose all night.

I cleared my throat so he’d look up. “Can you come in a second so we can talk in private?” Brilliant, invite a boy you don’t like to your bedroom when everyone else is going in the other direction. My face heated and I didn’t know how to retract the offer.

Declan glanced down the hall. “We don’t want to be late. They announce surprises in the beginning.”

How deflating. I pulled the door closed behind me and joined him, meeting him shoulder to shoulder. Matching his height was one of the good things about my super-high heels. I blew out a breath and wiggled my pinkie toes in their cramped cages. “So, we only matched 60%, right?”

A faint flush covered his cheekbones and his steps slowed. “Yeah, so what?”

“Well, from what’s been said, they coupled the highest percentages first, then filtered through the rest. Other girls probably matched you with a much higher score than I did.”

Declan straightened his lapel. “How do you mean?”

“Well, say a girl matched some guy at 90% and you at 89%. They assigned her to the other guy and stuck you with the next girl on the list, right?” We walked on, nodding to some of the other couples. He seemed to know a bunch of them.

“So?” Declan drew me out of the main traffic. “What are you saying?”

“We’re not compatible.” I left the rest unsaid: even if I were Piper, she wouldn’t be interested.

“You’re breaking up with me?”

We were together? “Kind of.”

“Right before the dance? Cool move, Elena, you’re a real sweetheart.” Declan pivoted and stomped back into the crowd.

I went the other direction. My hands shook and I didn’t know why I felt so rattled, but I did what I always did when I was upset here in Alaska. I climbed to the platform, and stared up at the stars.

Country music wafted through the air and I stilled. We’d heard nothing but Alaskan folk tunes since we arrived. This music, coming from beyond the utility room, reminded me of home. Without thinking, I descended the chute and went to get the only other person I knew who would appreciate the discovery in the same way.

Bracing against the archway entrance, I tilted sideways to slip my shoes back on and paused to enjoy the scene: women in red, men in black, all carefree under the domed night sky. Music pumped through the speakers, the native Alaskan tunes they played all the time. The current song was about a whale and a harpoon.

Searching, I spotted Thane easily. He was one of the taller guys, and like at home, he had a crowd around him. He hadn’t taken Kaitlin to the dance, and I had no problem interrupting him with anyone else. I shoved right between two girls, ignoring their annoyed stares and the abrupt stop of conversation. “Thane, come with me.”

His eyes warned me he wasn’t in the mood to indulge anyone. “What now?”

Again, I didn’t care. I grabbed his tuxedo-covered arm and tugged, disregarding the curious gazes in his group as easily as I had ignored the hostile ones. “Come on.” Thane had several inches on me even with the heels, but I stood much closer to his height than ever before. I used the angle to an advantage, imploring him with my gaze.

Thane nodded and stepped outside his circle to follow me.

When I crossed the archway again, I slipped off my shoes and ran.

We reached the laundry room. I dropped my shoes by the dryer and hopped up, while trying to maintain some modesty.

Thane leaned against the edge of the machine. “Is it Geneva?”

I stilled. “No, nothing like that. Nothing about this place.”

“I thought we agreed to lay low. You should hold off on the climbs.”

Now wasn’t the time to tell him I slept up there sometimes. How to explain? To say
I heard music and it wasn’t Alaskan folk music
sounded too simple, too small. To say
it sounds like home
would take too long to explain. For all I knew, the music had already stopped. I reached up and lifted through, starting the climb. “Do what you want.” The worst lead climber ever, I never looked back, just ascended.

The sounds of him climbing behind me told me he followed. He muttered something under his breath when we reached the plateau, but I didn’t ask him what he said. I moved to the back of the platform, where the dome met the ceiling, lay flat, and patted the floor by my side.

Thane dropped beside me, his tall body taking up much of the space. His warmth and life chased away the empty feeling brought on by night. The music washed through the air.

Back home, I wouldn’t have said I liked country music very much. Country would have ranked third on my playlist. But here, the rhythms sounded like home. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

Thane turned his head. “How are we hearing this?”

“I think maybe the cleaner left it on,” I whispered.

“Texas.” His voice sounded reverent. He relaxed and stilled beside me with the back of this hand against mine, close enough for me to feel his warmth.

Above us, high in the sky, pink, green, and blue lights swirled amid the stars, the aurora borealis.

“Wow,” Thane said. His fingertips touched the dome. He traced the glow.

The music surged around us as a new song kicked on. Alaskan Northern Lights swirled above us and sounds of Texas played around us.

***

Later, we walked to my room, holding hands, but not talking. Thane kept time on the back of my hand, silently playing out the last song we heard. Each press brought a lingering memory. We stopped at the door to my dorm, not wanting the moment to end.

He closed his hands over my bare upper arms, lowered his head, and kissed me. There was no lengthy delay, no questioning blue eyes, just Thane’s mouth on mine. He tasted like mint, and Northern Lights and home. And he used his whole body in the kiss, every facet of him focused on me.

I pressed into him, trying to understand the sensations, but quickly lost the ability to think. I touched his hair, and he shoved me back. The weight, the hardness, the sensations felt wonderful.

The door at my back moved, and I stumbled into the dorm room with Thane’s arms around me. He lowered me to the mattress, his lips on my neck. I clutched his shoulders, not letting him move away. A tingling sensation spread through my skin, and I pressed up against him, searching for his mouth.

“You keep the lights out, sometimes, I see.” Nevaeh opened the door from the bathroom and a fluorescent glare shone into the room. She giggled and her voice came loud and sarcastic. “You two are so cute. Now tell the truth, were you a couple back home?”

Thane jerked away, off me, off the bed, and backed up a step.

I lifted to my elbows and my insides twisted at the question.
Back home
? No. We were not a couple back home. We could never be a couple back home.

“What?” Her head swiveled between us. “What’d I say?” Our expressions must’ve warned her she’d said something disastrous. She grinned.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Whatever.” The door snicked shut behind her retreat.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch you later,” Thane said.

The door to my room closed behind him, leaving me alone. I reached for the lamp and turned the switch on before dropping to the pillows.

***

Kaitlin plopped down on her bed, raised her feet high in the air, and toed off her stilettos. “These don’t fit me right.” She tossed them in her corner of our messy room, and rubbed her arches. “All girls are not supposed to wear the same shoe style. My feet are on fire.” She rolled toward me. “I miss shoe shopping.”

I swallowed, not wanting to think about home. “Did you have fun? Dance a lot?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “At first it embarrassed me when Thane didn’t ask.” One shoulder shrugged, and her voice sounded wistful. “Everyone always talks about our 98% match being the highest in the habitat. But we just don’t seem to click. Well, we do okay as friends and teammates, but not as dates.”

My face heated and I wanted to say something before Nevaeh did, but I’d dug a hole so deep, I didn’t know where to start. I turned off the big lamp and clicked the little one as a concession.

Kaitlin turned off her own, darkening the room. I rolled to the edge of the mattress so I could see the light under the door as I tried to fall asleep.

***

The next day, heat steamed up the laundry room. I emptied the dryers and shoved new wet loads in. The guy assigned to the shift before mine must have worked more diligently than me—all the machines had been full. I set the button on low so the clothes would take longer to dry, and walked down the row, pressing start. The machines hummed into motion, making a soothing, tumbling noise.

I moved to the grate and ignored the immovable bolts in favor of working on the sealant. Using a butter knife I’d pocketed from the cafeteria, I chipped away at the white rubber. Satisfaction surged each time the knife slipped through the seam and clanked against the metal vent. Progress. No doubt an easier way to remove the seal existed, but without the Internet or a call to Dad, the rounded, dull knife would have to do.