Prep School Experiment Read Free Page A

rows of clothes. “Mom likes to shop.” Christian tossed him a towel and gestured at the racks. “Take whatever you want.”
    Half the clothes had tags on them. Rhys toweled off and changed into a pair of jeans. They fit loosely and had a crease down the legs as if someone had ironed the fold. Geek fest. He looked for a T-shirt. Nothing.
    Christian tossed him a Henley similar to the one he was wearing and smirked. “We are twins and all.”
    The clothes fit well enough, if a little baggy.
    Rhys took a pair of white socks from a drawer of folded color-coordinated socks that all looked brand new. His own sock drawer was a mismatched, off-white pile in the corner of his room. The new clothes made his torn-up sneakers look like an ironic fashion statement.
    Back in the living area of the bedroom, Christian grabbed a soda from a mini-fridge, tossed it to him along with a game controller. He took the same for himself and plopped down on a gamer’s chair in front of a flat screen.
    Rhys stared at the controller a second and then at Christian. He took a swig before joining him in a second chair. “Why isn’t this bothering you more? I mean. I don’t believe we hurricane babies were switched at birth either. But, in the movies, when a hidden heir comes to light, shit hits the fan.”
    Christian glanced around. “If you took half of this, you think there wouldn’t be enough left for me?”
    Rhys shrugged. He wasn’t taking half of anything. He’d make his own money. Nine more months, and he’d been in college. Then four years max and he’d start his own life. Well, maybe a little longer, if he could swing a doctorate program. But, he’d get everything he wanted and he’d get it on his own.
    Christian placed his drink and the controller on the coffee table. He pulled YouTube up on the flat screen. “One minute of gross sincerity?”
    Rhys shrugged. “Sure.”
    Christian cued up a video and hit play.
    The scene showed Senator Wentworth on a couch doing an interview. He talked about the hurricane and how his son, Braedon, had died that night because the hospital was so overwhelmed by the storm. The senator spoke about how that led him to campaign on a platform of disaster-preparedness. The video morphed into scenes of twenty other couches. All ended with the senator teary-eyed. The background track played crying-themed pop tunes.
    Rhys could see how the video had gone viral. “It’d be funny, maybe, if the dead baby he was talking about wasn’t possibly me.”
    Christian hit pause and stared at the frozen image of his dad. “I know it’s a big joke and that half the world thinks the tears are phony. Weepy Wentworth and all. But the loss of my brother is the only thing that makes my dad lose it. And if I never had to see that expression on his face again, I’d give you more than half this stuff. You could have the lot.”
    Rhys swallowed and didn’t say anything. He was right. The kid was soft. And no matter what happened, he had to keep him away from Mom and Stepdad #4. They would take the lot. Rhys grabbed the second controller from the coffee table and tossed it to Christian. The game clicked on.
    They played until a maid told them dinner was ready. Rhys followed Christian downstairs, leaving a message for Mom on the way, saying he’d be staying with a friend for the weekend. She hadn’t texted, so she must not have seen the news. And if she didn’t find out about today on her own, he had no plans for telling her and stirring it up.
    Halfway through the roast and mashed potatoes, the double doors to the dining room flew open. Christian jerked and his fork scraped on the china. Mrs. Wentworth knocked over her glass. Rhys pushed his chair back and half rose. Their nerves were shot.
    The man wore a sharply creased navy suit. He had conservatively cut thinning hair. Red tie. United States flag lapel pin. Definitely one of the senator’s staff. He double-checked that the dining room doors were shut behind him and