The Boarding School Experiment by Emily Evans Read Free Book Online Page A

all, I’d like to thank you for your sacrifice. What you do here is for the greater good of your community and you shall be rewarded.”
    My fellow students clapped. I kept my weight on my hands, not really digging his use of the word sacrifice . My annoyance and the slightly acrid smell of new seating kept me alert.
    He continued, “Some of you may not have understood that your cell phones wouldn’t get great reception up here.”
    For great, read none. Kaitlin shifted. Geneva muttered something under her breath. They and the rest of the student body were going through a type of withdrawal at the loss of their phones. I understood. It had happened to me two years ago.
    The director waved his hands in a quiet motion and stuck his lips near the microphone. “You have unlimited access to the phones here. We’ll have them up in a few days. You all have schedules. Each dorm has a coordinator who will answer your questions.”
    A metallic echo accompanied his words, so he backed off before running through the dorm names and asking the coordinators to stand up. He got to ours. “Malthus Dorm. Coordinator Steele.” She stood up. Her lips pursed, and she didn’t say anything. Some of the other dorms had gotten positive coordinators who said things like, “Go Darwin,” and “Yeah, Ehrlich.” Not us. The announcement of Malthus Dorm was acknowledged with a nod and a pained expression.
    Geneva flexed her fingers. “Great. The Enforcer Dorm.”
    “Regular classes start tomorrow at eight a.m. Alaskan Standard Time. We’d like to end this assembly with exciting news. Your delayed baggage has arrived.” The director lowered his hands to quiet the excited murmurs and waved to the bun-wearing coordinator.
    Coordinator Steele stepped forward and spoke into the microphone. “Line up at the front exit. One row. We’ll pass the bags down, fireman bucket style. When your bag reaches you, get out of line, and take it back to your room.”
    Geneva jumped up. “Come on.” She hurried to the aisle, passing other kids who hadn’t reacted to the announcement with her speed. Kaitlin and I raced to keep up.
    “I’ll help whoever gets her bags first, if she’ll come back and help me carry mine,” Kaitlin said, from behind me.
    I looked back. “How many did you bring?”
    Kaitlin flushed, and she sounded defensive. “Three.”
    I didn’t even own three bags. I’d packed one besides my carry-on. “I’ll help you.”
    “Me too, I only brought one,” Geneva said. “We military kids travel mean and lean.”
    Military kids liked to rhyme. I wondered what that was about.
    We stopped talking because Geneva had us running all out now to get a good spot. Crossing the threshold to the exit and into the crisp air shocked my senses for a moment, and I slowed to take in the view: one road, mountains, Christmas trees growing straight from the ground. Everything was so different from home. I breathed in, trying to identify more foreign features. It was more what was missing than what was here: pollution, buildings, civilization.
    A coordinator held up a yellow flag and we dropped into line, probably about ten kids down from the front. Not bad.
    “I can’t believe we have to carry our own bags,” the lanky guy behind me said.
    I thought he was half-joking, but Geneva lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head to mock him, making Kaitlin and me giggle. I’m not really a giggler by nature, but Kaitlin had one of those infectious laughs.
    Thane stood about five kids ahead of us, easy to spot with his height. He had a competitive streak and I knew he wouldn’t be one of the last students rolling out of the building.
    Kaitlin clapped and I followed her gaze. Heavy, weighted engines rumbled as two eighteen-wheelers ground up the incline on the uneven road. It would have made more sense to me if we’d just carried our own bags over on the shuttle. But they’d insisted the luggage would follow. I bet they needed the extra time to search them.