The Boarding School Experiment by Emily Evans Page A

much less used it twice in a row. She appeared ready to faint. “I didn’t know.” Her eyes seemed tormented, going from me to Thane.
    I tried to convey an apology in my own. “Kaitlin, I’ll explain later.”
    Nevaeh leaned forward with greedy attention, eager for drama. “They’re saying their goodbyes.”
    Her blankets were so disappearing tonight.
     

Chapter Seven
     
    “We’ll talk later, Kaitlin,” I said, as Thane towed me from the room. He must have stashed the keycard in a pocket because he was using both hands on me, steering me through the cafeteria toward the stairs.
    One of the video screens blinked on. Someone had framed the monitor with a cutout in the shape of a heart. Photos of each new couple flashed every two seconds. It was like a dating website gone live. Really live.
    Thane slowed. “Not much for some people to do, I guess.” He stopped at a copse of spruce trees.
    Each tree sheltered a couple. We checked the game room next. The few private nooks were all occupied by newly matched pairs.
    He tried to drag me toward the dorm rooms again and I jerked to a halt. “I know where to go.” Not many people made out in laundry rooms, at least, not in my experience anyway. Not that my experience was extensive, not like Thane’s. Stop it. This wasn’t about making out.
    No one was on duty given the matching ceremony, so the dryers sat idle. Without their usual hum, the buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights sounded loud. The air was different too: cooler, less humid, but with the same soapy smell. I climbed on top and took down the grate, passing it to Thane.
    “Stash it there,” I said, and swung up into the tube. He muttered something I didn’t catch and followed me. We climbed.
    After we’d reached the plateau, I also showed him my newest discovery, the slots in the wall. “See these openings? I peeked through them, and think they drop down into the restricted area.” I pried the seam and demonstrated. “I think this was supposed to be a laundry chute. Or maybe it still is, and the janitor chooses not to use it.” The large slot opened into a small storage room: linoleum floor, brooms, discarded boxes. The smell of cleaning fluids wafted through the opening. Thane’s mouth half opened in a sly grin and his eyes brightened.
    “We can…” I didn’t finish the sentence.
    Thane swung onto the ledge, his broad shoulders filled the slot from one side to the other. He grunted and maneuvered to slide through, dropping the ten feet or so to the linoleum. The room was lit by the dull orange glow of a recharging drill. I flicked off the flashlight and left it behind. On the other side of the chute, Thane raised his arms.
    I assessed his six-feet plus height and the drop. His height, plus mine, wouldn’t leave me far to fall. I curled into a seated position, swung my legs out of the opening, and pushed off, my feet swaying like a pendulum. Thane grabbed my hips.
    I shook my head. “I got this.” His hands tried to guide my descent. My fingers clung to the edge.
    His fingers tightened harder. “Let go, I’ve got you.”
    My fingers tightened. You had to trust someone to let go. I couldn’t release my grip. “Move. I can make the jump.”
    Thane grunted and yanked. I landed half against him and pulled away as soon as my feet touched the floor.
    “Come on.” Thane opened the door and stepped out into a grey hallway. I didn’t recognize the area, but it had the same new carpet smell as everywhere else in the habitat, though the carpeting was covered with a plastic runner. The walls up here were normal grey plaster, no faux ice blocks.
    My heart thumped faster than our slow pace warranted, and I tried to take even breaths. When we got to the first door, I dropped to my hands and knees to check for distortions in the light that would indicate movement in the room: nothing. I gave Thane a thumbs up, and he placed the coordinator’s badge over the sensor. The light stayed red. He swiveled