Prep School Experiment (21 page)

The director walked toward him, moving with incredible speed in Rhys’ slow-motion, drugged world. “Let her go. Drop your jacket and breathe in.”

Rhys tightened his grip and pulled her a few feet further toward the window.

“You know we won’t hurt you,” the director said.

One of the side doors opened and a janitor pushed a large wheeled trash cart into the room. He wore a face mask along with his navy blue janitor’s uniform. He lifted Elena up and placed her in the gray cart.

What the hell?

Rhys looked closer, and his insides turned cold. He recognized The Scientist from the Alaskan boarding school.

“We’re not going to hurt you.” The Scientist struggled to lift Geneva’s tall form to put her in the cart too. He looked at the director. “A little help.”

The director shook his head. “Kind of busy right now.” He kept the gun on Rhys, waiting patiently, as if he knew Rhys would pass out any moment.

Rhys’ chest tightened, and he lost his grip on Kaitlin. She slipped to the carpet.

Wake up
, he screamed at her in his mind.
Get out.

She didn’t move.

He had to shut down the fumes
. Rhys struggled back to the table, keeping his tuxedo jacket over his face.

“We just need some information.” The Scientist grunted and got Geneva into the cart. “They’re closing the school. We don’t know who else would have responded to the drug, not like you five. We have no other choice. You’re the most precious people in the whole world to us. We know you respond and just need a little more data. A few weeks, a few months tops, and you’ll be right back at home. We’ll disappear and start over. You’ll never see us again.”

Rhys struggled to cover the smoking dish. The effort of lifting the lid was harder than ejecting a deadbeat drunk from the couch.

“No need for that, Rhys,” the director said. “The chemicals are in the air. Your friends will remain knocked out for hours. Long enough for us all to get away from here. And get you kids somewhere safe.”

Grunts sounded from across the room as The Scientist lifted Thane under the arms and struggled to pull him upright. The weight of Thane’s big body knocked The Scientist back. He had to let go, dropping Thane to the floor. “This isn’t going to happen. You’re going to have to help,” he said to the director.

The director walked over to Rhys, not letting go of the gun. He tugged Rhys’ jacket from his face as if he were a small child. “Breathe in before it dissipates.” He reached for the lid to open it up again.

Rhys held his breath and let his weight fall into the director, knocking him back away from the dish. The director lurched to the side and then grabbed Rhys around the chest, hauling him upright. “Over to the cart with you.”

The senator popped in the door. “Hi, I just wanted to meet with you kids personally before…”

Rhys tried to warn him, but couldn’t make his vocal chords do more than croak.

The senator froze as he took in the situation. He started forward immediately.

“Eh. Eh,” the director said, nerves in his voice. He waved the gun, his gaze glued to the senator.

“Let him go,” the senator said in a calm voice. “You’ll never get Rhys out of here. I’ll never allow it.”

“Stay out of this,” the director said. “I’ve seen the numbers. Having the boy around is not helping you.”

“I’ve lived with knowing I let something happen to my boy for seventeen years. There is no chance I’ll let something happen to him again.” Utter conviction laced Steven’s voice.

The director tripped, recovered and waved the gun around the room. “I just need information.” His arm tightened around Rhys and they stumbled closer to the cart.

“Your only option now is to get away. That’s it. Stay here and be taken out by my team or get away. Take me with you and you walk right out. Exchange me for Rhys and you go clear.”

Rhys heard Kaitlin shouting in his head, as clearly as they were in a dream together. His mind processed the phenomenon, wondering if they could communicate when their brains were producing some type of sleep stage waves.

“Focus, Rhys,” Kaitlin said. “Get away from him. Use the pin.”

Rhys withdrew the
Vote Wentworth
pin from his lapel with one slow hand. Using his thumb, he eased the metal straight out. He threw his weight backwards while jabbing the pin straight into the director.

The director screamed.

They hit the ground and Rhys ignored the punching and kicks from the man beneath him while struggling to get in a few hits of his own.

The senator ran forward, pulling Rhys clear. He put his boot down hard on the director’s wrist, grabbed the gun, and yanked the mask from the director’s face.

Across the room, The Scientist threw a sheet over the top of the cart and pushed it toward the side door.

Rhys crawled to the table and pulled himself up. He struggled to the wall and yanked the red fire alarm switch down.

Nothing happened.

Thane pulled himself up and latched onto The Scientist’s ankles.

The Scientist wobbled and stared down at Thane. “You can’t be alert yet.”

Elena came awake next, springing up in the cart, fighting with the sheet until she was clear. She saw The Scientist and launched herself at him, sending the cart skidding and knocking the man to the floor.

Either The Scientist had miscalculated their recuperative powers or really had needed that dish uncovered. Whichever it was, they had him.

Kaitlin.

Rhys needed her out of there.

Kaitlin had gotten upright and was working her way over to the window.

Rhys helped her throw the pane open, letting in a gust of crisp Texas air. He breathed in deeply, feeling power and control returning to his body.

“You okay, Rhys?” the senator asked, not moving from guarding the director.

Rhys nodded.

Kaitlin’s eyes flashed blue and she pressed against him. Rhys gathered her close and fumbled for his smart phone. He had one more thing to do. He snapped a picture of the senator and sent it to Thayer. He put his phone on voice record to give a summary of what was happening. Press. Bob would love this.

The senator shifted, putting more weight on his boot. His eyes flashed with a wild light, and he didn’t relent when the director screamed. “You thought you could touch my kid and I wouldn’t destroy you.” His West Texas came out and his polish disappeared. This guy had grown up on a ranch.

Two security guards burst into the room in response to the second scream. They pried the director out from under the senator’s boot and The Scientist away from Elena and Thane.

The Scientist stared at Elena and Thane. “Your recuperative powers. Amazing.”

Elena kicked him and screamed about having been wrapped up in a dark sheet.

Geneva stood up inside the cart. She looked around the room. “What the hell did I miss?”

The senator strode over and wrapped his arms around Rhys, the wild light in his eyes dying down.

Such a freaking huggy family.

***

The senator got everyone to their respective families and met his own back in the private suite of rooms. “We’ll wait out the election here.”

The TV ran the projected poll results in the background and Bob popped in with periodic updates. Rhys, Christian, Michelle, and Steven hung out and waited over the next several hours.

The only news that had broken through poll results was the online story about the senator’s heroics. Steven had muted the TV when it came on, but shortly after, the numbers turned in the senator’s favor.

The phone rang and the senator took the call. He hung up, looked at the librarian, took her hand, and moved behind her. She leaned against him, her hand over her abdomen.

Bob popped into the room and stared at the senator.

“What?” Rhys and Christian said at the same time.

“My opponent has made his concession,” the senator said.

“Yes.” Bob punched the air. “Could Not Have Bought Better Publicity.”

“Can you send in my parents?” Michelle said.

The senator pulled them into a group hug, one that his grandparents and Grandpa Wentworth joined. Then they went out onto the stage together as a family. The band boomed out a victory song.

Red, white and blue confetti fell, sticking to his face obscuring his vision, blocking his view of the crowd, but he knew Kaitlin was out there cheering.

Michelle, standing between him and Christian, squeezed his arm.

Cameras flashed.

The senator moved to the lectern for his victory speech.

***

November 9th—Wentworth mansion—Trallwyn, Texas

Grandpa Wentworth had their family celebration dinner catered.

Rhys was meeting up with Kaitlin and their friends from boarding school afterward to show them a little of Trallwyn, Texas. He cut into his T-bone steak and listened as his grandfathers argued about what university he’d go to in the fall.

“Princeton is an hour from the city. Yale is one and a half,” Grandfather Brentwood said.

The librarian sipped her glass of milk. “MIT and Harvard are within four hours.”

Grandfather Brentwood said, “If he goes that route, we’ll set him up with an apartment for when he wants to stay over. The rest of the time you can stay with us.”

“There’s more than the east coast for top programs,” Grandpa Wentworth said. “For chemistry, he’ll want to look at Caltech, Stanford, and Berkeley. Texas A&M and UT Austin are in the top twenty. He’ll intern at my company, of course.”

“He’s not moving back to Texas,” Grandfather Brentwood said. “We’re shutting that down.”

“You think you’re shutting that down right now, do you? Well, I say his options are still open.” Grandpa Wentworth had a bullheaded expression on his face.

“Columbia is
in
NYC,” Grandmother said.

“I’ll go there then,” Rhys said.

“You want to spend your college years living with your grandparents?” Grandpa asked.

Rhys shrugged.

Michelle touched his arm. “Why?”

“Why do I like it there? There’s books. Someone gives a damn if I eat or not. The Grands have great advice. They’re here for me and they treat each other with respect. It’s fun. If they’re not kicking me out, I’m not moving.”

“We’re not kicking you out,” Grandmother said.

Mom tapped on the side of her wine glass. “On that note, Steven and I have talked. We’ve missed too much time with Rhys already.” She looked at Rhys.

Rhys dropped his hands to his lap.

Michelle glowed and rubbed her belly. “Mom. Dad. We thought it would be best if we all move in. Steven can commute by train and stay in DC during the week, at least when the Senate’s in session, and I’ll have family around to help with my pregnancy.”

Grandfather Brentwood clapped. “Yes.”

Rhys raised his eyebrows. “That okay with you, Christian?”

Christian rolled his shoulders and nodded. “I should not have dumped the principal’s daughter. Life’s been hell at Trallwyn Prep ever since,” Christian muttered and reached for a roll. “I could use a new school.”

The thought of having his whole family together was overwhelming. The thought that they’d make that sacrifice for him was beyond him.

“But we’re still taking custody back,” Steven said, a resolute expression on his face.

“Custody of whom?” Grandpa Wentworth said, “Who you going to apply for?”

“Rhys’ last name is Wentworth,” Steven said. “End of discussion.”

“You think so?” Grandfather Brentwood said. “I say the boy has a say.”

“His name is Braedon Shay Wentworth,” Grandpa Wentworth said and scooped up some mashed potatoes with his steak. Rhys wondered if he ate like that at his corporate dinners and then decided he probably did.

Rhys didn’t feel like a
Braedon
. He didn’t look at the librarian because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, and he didn’t answer.

“His name is Rhys,” the librarian said.

“Fine. Fine. Rhys Braedon Shay Wentworth,” Grandpa Wentworth said.

They made sounds of agreement around the table. It was now or never. Speak up. “I was thinking Rhys Shay Zukowski Brentwood Wentworth.”

“Well, if that ain’t a mouthful,” Grandpa Wentworth said, but didn’t protest.

Grandfather Brentwood’s eyes grew glassy. “Fine name.”

“Well, good luck getting some girl to agree to take that on,” Grandpa said. “That’s all I’m saying.”

June

Mid-graduation, Steven sent Rhys a text:
Mom’s in labor. Meet us at the hospital. So proud of you today.

After they threw their caps in the air, Rhys got another text.
Delia Sophie Wentworth. Seven pounds, two ounces.

Rhys wondered how long Michelle had denied her contractions. Knowing her, long enough for his name to get called. At least he’d walked with the B’s for Brentwood-Wentworth. If she’d had to wait for the W’s, she wouldn’t have made it.

He and Kaitlin left straight away for the hospital. They walked down the sterile corridor, swinging hands.

Kaitlin shrugged out of her Shay-green graduation robe, letting go of his hand only long enough to get the gown over her wrist. “Mom wants me back at the house for dinner with the family as soon as I’ve met the baby.” She looked up at him, her sweet eyes eager. “Are you ready to meet the newest baby Wentworth?”

“Delia Sophie Wentworth. She’s showing up in the family I was supposed to have from day one. I think I’m weirdly jealous.”

“I know you’ll love her.”

He didn’t. There were always a ton of kids in droopy drawers running around the trailer park. Babies were nothing new to him. “Babies are diapers and noise. Babies you tolerate.” Rhys kissed Kaitlin. “You I love.”

Kaitlin beamed.

The nurse at the maternity station pointed them to a private room down the hall. The outside of the door had a paper nameplate that read
Michelle Wentworth. Baby Girl Wentworth.

They went through the door into a small sitting room that held a two-seater couch and a coffee table. “I’ll wait out here,” Kaitlin said.