The Boarding School Experiment (9 page)

I smiled. We so had this. I shouted up, “You’d better be ready, Declan.” If he was sitting on the ground when I reached the top, I’d kick his ass. I stretched for a hold in the granite above me, going through the second section with even more speed.

A final pull carried me over the ledge. “Go,” I said, still on my hands and knees.

“How are you already here?” Declan seemed surprised.

“Go,” I said again.

His mouth twisted and he walked to the edge of the outcropping overhanging the deep end of the swimming pool.

“Good job,” one of the other contestants said. He held out a hand, and helped me up.

Good sport, I thought. “Thanks.”

“I don’t know. Maybe, I should take the ramp.” Declan’s indecision came through his voice and I froze for a moment while his words tumbled through my brain.

Take the ramp
. Running down the ramp was the alternative to the dive or jump, and that route took ten times longer. “Fine, then run,” I said, screaming this time, not hiding my anger or frustration.

He should have run the second my palms hit the grass if he didn’t want to jump. I moved to the outcropping, and he just stood there. “What are you doing, are you trying to lose this? Move.”

“I’m thinking the dive would be faster.”

The second climber finished the bouldering. Declan’s indecisiveness was eating our lead.

“Of course it is. Do one,” I said, thinking,
Jump, please jump
.

Declan went to the edge and lifted his arms overhead, staring down.

I breathed in, my heart racing.

The second climber heaved his body over the top. Panting, he tagged his teammate. His diver took a running leap over the side, destroying our lead.

“Do it,” I said.

Declan shook his head and backed away. Gloved hands crunched against crumbling rocks as the third climber followed the path of the second. His jumper leaned in and tagged him the moment he crested. The third guy chose the ramp. He ran with fast, long legs and pumping arms.

“I’m not jumping,” Declan said.

While he dithered, the thump of the fourth climber’s shoes landing on the grass reached us.

“Do something,” I screamed.

Declan turned back to the edge, looking down.

I shook my head, ran at him, and pushed him over.

His feet skidded on the rock, resisting, and his scream filled the habitat, echoing hollowly then was drowned out by the sound of a loud, flopping splash. The remaining divers laughed, but I ignored them, staring over the side.

Declan popped up, coughing, spitting water and outrage with the fervor of an underwater politician.

With the splash, Geneva started her swim, using an Australian crawl while Declan paddled to the side, and lifted free from the pool. Standing on the edge, he aimed a glare up at me. I folded forward and flipped him off, then looked for Geneva.

Geneva’s swimming was economy in motion, minimal splash, maximum speed. Her long strokes ate the distance between her and the other swimmers. It seemed as if they slowed, and her talent moved us into second, letting me breathe again.

She tagged Thane. “Go.”

As soon as she did, the screen lit up with his task. “Follow the arrow-marked path. Run to the finish line at the bottom of the amphitheater.”

Thane didn’t hesitate. He tore off at the first flash of the word. We already knew his destination. The mystery task had appeared for the first contestant. Ours was the same. Run down the ramps, through the amphitheater, and to your spot on the stage. First one in wins.

Thane hadn’t been on the track team, but he played football and soccer, so at least he had the stamina to go the distance.

The next climber tagged his teammate, the guy who’d helped me up. The good sport moved fast. He ran to the ledge and leapt. Arms and legs pumping, he overran the central drop point and was going in at an angle. I leaned over to watch his progress. He hit the water feet first with a clean splash, but his arm swung out and smacked the side of the pool.

I winced. Ouch.

His swimmer took off, and I waited for the jumper to propel himself to the top. Nothing. I waved at the contestants below me. His runner stood at the other end of the pool, bent low, ready to tag the swimmer the second he surfaced. Geneva stood near him, holding a towel, wiping water from her face. From that end, they lacked my vantage point and were so busy concentrating on the next leg I worried they couldn’t see what was going on at this end of the pool.

I sucked in a deep breath, held my nose, and jumped off the edge. The falling sensation lit up every nerve in my body. My feet kicked, like they could grab purchase, and then the almost solid smack of the water reverberated through my shoes. I sank. The weight of my clothes and the force of the fall sucked me to the bottom.

I sprang off the floor and opened my eyes to the sting of chemicals. A blur emerged a few feet to my left. I pulled through the water toward the jumper, kicking, resisting the urge to surface for a breath. My fingers brushed fabric. I strained and caught him. Lungs burning, I crossed my arm over his chest. My shoulder wedged against the side of his chin. While fearing I was choking him, I didn’t know how to adjust the hold and I had only one priority—kick.

My free arm scooped while the pressure built in my lungs and face. I blew out though I was dying to inhale. Swiping at the water, I broke the surface with a gasp, sucking in air, and turning the jumper so his face was clear.

Other contestants ran along the deck, shouting something at me, and they dove in to help. They took the jumper, swiftly maneuvering him to the side and out of the water. He coughed a huge gagging sound. Water gushed out of his mouth, and over his chin. Hands grabbed my arms, pulling me from the pool. As exhausted as I was, I let them, falling to the concrete.

The jumper coughed and grabbed his wrist. “My arm.”

Coordinator Steele and The Scientist reached us. The Scientist helped him rise. “Let’s get you to the clinic.” He led the wounded guy from view.

My hands and knees pressed into the prickly concrete and I sucked in another gulp of oxygen. I had plenty of air; I knew that. My body just needed time to accept it. The chlorine surrounded me, covering my heavy wet clothes and dripping from my hair.

Orange-tipped toes came into view and Geneva crouched beside me. She slapped a cold hand on my shoulders and dropped a towel in front of me. I clutched at the warm dryness and buried my face in the terry cloth, breathing in the fragrance of the detergent. The familiarity calmed my heartbeat and I imagined myself in the warm, humid laundry room, sleeping on the dryer in a nest of newly-dried towels.

“Good job.” A new respect and surprise echoed in Geneva’s voice. “I didn’t see him go down.” She tugged at my elbow with a strong hand, forcing me up and out of my laundry-room delusion. “Come on. We can take the elevators with the others.”

We trudged across the deck, dripping, but my breathing had steadied. I dabbed at my face with the corner of the towel.

Kaitlin and Declan stood ahead of us at the elevators. “Good job, guys.” Kaitlin’s usual perkiness layered her words. “We caught everything on the monitors.”

The elevator dinged open, and Declan stepped into the doorway with his arms extended, barring my entrance. “I was about to jump.”

“I know,” I said.

“You shouldn’t have shoved me. I could’ve broken my arm, too.”

“I know.”

“You keep this shit up and I’ll quit.”

Geneva slapped a hand on his shoulder and pushed until he dropped an arm. “Suck it up, buttercup. It’s over. Let’s go down and see where we rank.”

A rush filled me at her words and we moved into the elevator. The top ten teams advanced, so I felt fairly confident we’d made it to the next round, but things derail you when you least expect them. The elevator ride seemed twice as long as normal. The moment the doors parted, I shoved through, renewed by the thought of a win. We ran to the auditorium via the spectator route. The stage below us lay empty.

We took seats in the auditorium with the students who hadn’t participated in the physical legs. At the sound of rushing feet, we turned to the amphitheater’s entrance.

Thane and another contestant skidded around the corner, appearing at the top. Picking up speed, they headed down the roped off aisle side-by-side. There were no signs of any other teams. These two were competing for first.

They reached the end of the aisle with the other guy one step ahead of Thane. He veered left, going for the stairs. From this angle, we could see the right set of stairs were positioned a few steps closer.

The watching students shouted encouragement, and we tried to shout over them. “Right, Thane, go right.”

Thane ran straight. Using one hand against the front row of seats, he propelled himself onto the stage and into one of the ten circles. The crowd roared as he beat Lefty by at least four feet with his ridiculous, awesome leap.

With the win, a rush of excitement filled me and I leapt in the air, screaming, relishing the elation.

Feet pounded down the aisles as the other runners vied for a spot in the top ten. We cheered for them, too. Kaitlin bounced up and down, one of her hands on Geneva’s arm, one on mine. Geneva waved her fist in the air, and I screamed until my voice grew hoarse.

The director moved to the lectern and clapped with waving arms. “Excellent. Everyone, please take a seat. Winners of this round, join your Captain on stage.”

Chapter Six

Winners. We’d smashed the competition. The director went on and on about our skill and speed. Lefty’s team hated us. They turned and glared our way, four brawny guys, and my suitemate, Nevaeh. They had been the odds-on favorite and they were not proud to come in second. They were watching us now, but we were too high to care. I didn’t even mind when the Alaskan folk music the coordinators liked to play kicked on.

The director said, “Such an exceptional job.” Everyone clapped except team Lefty. “Team Thane has earned the first reward.”

The crowd cheered. I stilled, leaning forward. Kaitlin’s arm tightened on mine.

“Those of you who voted for Team Thane to win will of course get a pass on an exam of his or her choosing.” A few weak claps sounded through the auditorium. The director waved for the crowd to quiet, as if they’d been loud. “In addition, Team Thane members have won a day outdoors—a nature hike.”

***

Two days later, we exited the habitat for the first time since orientation. The sun sank into my skin, and I nodded, almost giddy at the sensations. Fresh air. I breathed deep and shared a grin with my teammates.

“We’re number one,” Geneva said.

Kaitlin did a victory dance.

Declan rolled his eyes. “I’m headed down to the lake.” He took off on a downward slope through the grass.

Kaitlin’s face lit up. “I want to see the water.” She headed down to the lake with Declan.

Man, we had a pool inside. “I’m going up,” I said, pointing to the cliff, almost dizzy on the thin, fresh air.

“Hikes will be escorted until you know the area.” Coordinator Steele tucked a strand of hair into her bun and scanned the heavy trees as if they were about to attack her. She snagged white berries from underneath a bush and started sucking on them.

“You can’t eat those,” Thane said.

The Enforcer ignored him and continued gnawing. With a sigh, she set off, going upwards at a slow trudge, flinching at every piece of brush.

The branches flew back and we had to dodge them as we hiked behind her, taking the worst route on absolutely the best landscape: cold air, fall colors. I reached for some of the white berries myself, plucking a few from under some leaves.

Thane slapped them out of my hand. “You can’t eat those.” He pointed to some dark blue, nearly black, berries. “Blueberries. Eat those.”

I snagged a navy one and popped it in my mouth. Ripe, sweet, bursting, the flavors exploded. The fruit didn’t taste like any blueberry I’d ever eaten at home in my fast food yogurt. I grabbed a few more.

Thane opened his mouth and I fed him one, remotely registering how odd that action was. What a wonderful day. I bent my knees and stretched, looking up at the pale blue sky, the white puffy clouds, the mountain. “First one to the top,” I said.

“No.” Coordinator Steel’s voice was sharp, but we all ignored her.

The three of us sprinted, leaving the guide behind. We weren’t in it for the race, just the freedom, the sensation. Geneva’s laughter and Thane’s heavy steps came from behind me.

I ran until my side hurt, until I couldn’t draw the thin air into my lungs anymore, until my legs burned, and then I sank to the ground. I rolled onto my back, sucking in the oxygen, enjoying the bright rays of unfiltered sun on my face. When my breath came easily again, I ran my hands over the ground. The soft puff of wildflowers surged above the rough green grass. I hadn’t pictured wild flowers in Alaska. I’d imagined mounds of snow and rocky edges. Flowers dotted the mountainside.