Kit turned in circles, gawking at everything. She felt like she was in a museum or on a fancy movie set. Huge paintings of horses framed in elaborate gold hung on the walls. There were enough decorative wooden moldings and panels to build another whole building. Students, parents, and teachers milled about, their footwear clicking and clacking sharply against the pristine wood-and-tile flooring. There were bright, colorful flowers in fancy vases on every table, lush potted ferns in decorative plant stands, and not a speck of dust on any surface that she could see.
“Holy queen of England, look at this place!” Kit glanced up. “Hey, put me on your shoulders so I can take a selfie with the chandelier.”
“I’m not sure that’s your best idea,” said Rudy.
“I thought we were risk takers, thrill seekers,” she teased. “England’s already changed you.”
“Which way now, do you think?” At a loss, Rudy sought help from the nearest student. “Excuse me, could you point us in the direction of the dining hall?”
A girl already wearing the school uniform looked up from her campus map, her dark eyes wide with confusion. At the sight of Rudy’s Stetson, she squeaked, “Oh!” followed by, “I haven’t the slightest! I’m totally turned around!” As if to demonstrate, she turned the map in her hands sideways, then around again as if it might make more sense upside down. “Uhhh . . .” She pointed. “That way! Oh wait, no, that’s where I got lost last time. It’s definitely not that way. Um . . .” After another check of her map, she admitted, “Oh, I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “Good luck!”
Kit gave her an understanding smile. “You, too,” she said as she followed her dad down a random hallway. She faintly heard the poor girl ask the throngs of nearby students: “Did anybody just see a cowboy?”
Kit was impressed when the first door Rudy chose to walk through took them to the dining hall. A young woman behind the student registration table rose from her chair. “Welcome! You must be the Bridges.”
Kit muffled a laugh. Dad might as well be wearing a sign that says HUG ME, I’M A COWBOY.
“I’m Sally Warrington,” the woman continued. “I’m a teacher, and I work with the headmistress. Now, Mr. Bridges —”
“Call me Rudy.”
“Oh, um.” Sally gave a flustered little laugh. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Kit exchanged an amused glance with her dad. There was no doubt in either of their minds that Sally Warrington was a very proper English lady. She was also rather like a bird — colorfully dressed and very pretty, with a sweet, fragile quality that made Kit wonder how strict she could possibly be about enforcing school rules. Not too strict, Kit hoped.
“Now, Mr. Bridges,” Sally said, “I’m sure you’ll want to see the stables and your quarters straightaway. Katherine, I’ll show you the way to Rose Cottage, your new home.”
“Call me Kit,” Kit said immediately. “I go by Kit.”
Sally smiled and gestured. “Shall we?”
“Right.” Rudy faced Kit square on. “I guess this is where we split up.”
Kit realized she wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to go it alone, not yet. “We’re kind of a team, Miss Warrington. Could I hang with him just a bit longer?”
“How charming,” Sally said in delight. “We do like rules and order at Covington, but perhaps we can be a touch flexible today. Only for today, mind.”
Kit happily slipped her arm through her dad’s. Excellent. It looked like Sally Warrington was the understanding type.
“Even the horses live in castles!” That was the first thing Rudy said when he got a look at the school stables.
Kit couldn’t agree more. This was the cleanest stable she’d ever seen. She imagined each horse having to wipe its hooves on a doormat before being allowed in. “Do you think you can get used to this?” she asked her father.
“As long as there are horses around, I’ll be all right.”
“Mr. Bridges.” A stable hand appeared, holding a rake, apparently having just laid out new straw bedding in one of the stalls. He shook hands with Rudy. “We bin expectin’ yeh.”
Rudy instantly transformed into the official chief equestrian supervisor and guided the stable hand away, asking him something about training schedules. Kit didn’t mind being left behind so abruptly. She knew her dad had to do his job. Instead she marveled at how cool the stable hand had sounded with his thick Scottish accent. The people here all sounded so different!
First had been their cabbie, who had spoken with what he’d called a West Midlands accent. Then there was handsome Nav with his London accent overlaying another one, maybe Portuguese? She wasn’t sure. Then Miss Warrington had spoken what Kit had read was called Received Pronunciation, or RP, the kind of accent that British Broadcasting Company announcers used on TV and the radio. They all sound so exotic! she thought.
Her thoughts stopped dead when she glanced at the nameplate on the nearest stall: “TK.” What kind of name was that for a horse? She peeked in, and to her surprise, the wild black gelding gazed back at her. “Oh, it’s you again,” she said.
After taking a quick look around to make sure nobody was watching, she slid the stall gate open. Even as she did so, she wondered if she’d just taken stupid pills or something. The horse was dangerous. He’d tried to gallop over her, for heaven’s sake!
But something was drawing her to him. She didn’t know what, but she couldn’t resist it. “I just want to say hi to you, okay?” she said calmly, noting that TK was still barred from escaping his stall by a rope tied in some kind of tricky-looking slipknot. Good. “You almost gave me a heart attack earlier,” she told him as he took a step forward, pressing his chest against the rope and leaning his head out toward her. “Guess you lost that round, huh? You can run really fast.”
TK just stood there, so Kit slowly raised her hand and touched his muzzle. He didn’t move. She began to pet him. His muzzle was soft, like velvet, and warm. She let her hand slide up to stroke his face. TK snorted, and that made Kit laugh. “You’re friendlier than you look,” she said, now stroking his forehead. “But you may want to try a different approach with the ladies in the future.”
“You’re gonna want to back away slowly,” came a soft voice behind her. “He’s lethal.”
Kit turned to see the student who had caught TK when he’d gotten loose. She remembered that someone had called him Will. He was gesturing her away from TK, so she poked her head out of the stall and then noticed the sign on TK’s door:
UNPREDICTABLE AND DANGEROUS.
KEEP GATE SHUT — HORSE WILL BOLT
She didn’t believe it. “He doesn’t seem so bad now,” she pointed out, continuing to pet a docile TK.
Will said, “Fine, don’t take my advice. I only work here.” Then with more authority he ordered, “Come on!”
Kit took a few steps toward him, just to show him she wasn’t entirely brain-dead. But before she could ask him more about TK, three girls in riding gear entered the stable. One had her hair in a long braid, and she was leading a chestnut Thoroughbred, patting his neck as she said to her friends, “Well, it looks like my summer memorizing the new training manual has paid off. I do enjoy ranking first.”
Will was still talking to Kit. “I’ve already had to chase him down once today, and I really don’t fancy doing it again.”
Kit was so busy thinking, Wow, this guy is cute! This school is full of cute guys! that she didn’t realize her mouth was saying something as lame as, “I thought you riding types loved running. Good conditioning or whatever.”
Will stared at her. “You riding types?” he repeated in disbelief.
The girl with the braid handed her horse’s reins to one of her pals and strode up to Will with bold confidence. “Hi! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said to him. Her attempt to act coy didn’t quite work, as far as Kit was concerned. Will didn’t seem too eager for her presence, either. “I hope your summer was as brill as mine was,” the girl went on, beaming at him. “Was
it?”
“Uh, yeah, it was okay,” Will muttered.
“Did you see my e-mails? I kept you updated.”
“Very updated.”
“Well, that was the plan.”
Will didn’t say anything.
The girl was clearly not happy with his lack of enthusiasm, but she kept going, kind of like a dog who wouldn’t give up a bone. “What’s curious is that I didn’t seem to receive any back. Could that be right?”
Will looked as if he’d rather have been locked in a cage full of angry cheetahs than standing next to this girl. He stared down at his boots, making vague waving motions over his face as if trying to magically erase himself.
The girl watched him for a moment. A flash of dismay crossed her features, but then she was beaming again and addressing Kit. “We haven’t met. Elaine Whiltshire.”
“Hi, I’m —”
“Do you ride? You’re not dressed, and I didn’t see you out there.”
“No, I — I didn’t —”
“How odd. You see, I can’t announce my win until you ride.” Elaine squared her shoulders as if assuming command of the world. “Tack up,” she ordered Kit. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Competitive riding is what Covington is all about and —” She stopped at the sound of a whinny and gaped at something over Kit’s shoulder.
TK was lunging out of his stall!
“TK!” Will shouted, automatically pulling Kit to safety as TK trotted past, heading for the doors. Elaine had to dodge out of the way, too, and she crouched down as low as possible, clearly afraid that TK might bite or kick. He didn’t, though. Once outside, he broke into a gallop, ready to lead Will on another merry chase around the school grounds.
Kit watched Will run after him, shouting, “TK, get back here!”
But he was secure, she thought. I’m sure of it! She turned to check.
The rope that had been tied across the doorway now lay on the straw floor. TK had untied the knot!
Kit was impressed. That is a wickedly clever horse! Still, his escape was her fault. She wondered if she was going to get in trouble.
Elaine straightened up from her protective crouch. She did not look pleased.
“Oh, my gosh, I am so, so sorry!” Kit cried. “It was totally my bad!”
Elaine’s glare could have frozen a cup of hot tea.
In a panic of guilt, Kit snatched Elaine’s riding helmet up from the floor where she’d dropped it and thrust it out. “Here’s your — your hat!”
Elaine grabbed it. “It’s a helmet,” she snapped.
“Yeah, um . . . I don’t ride.”
“Yes. Well, that’s become rather evident.” Elaine raised her chin and glared at Kit. “If you don’t ride, stay out of the stalls.” And she walked briskly out of the stable.
Kit wanted to crawl into a hole.
A short time later, Kit was back to gaping at the exquisite grounds of The Covington Academy — in particular, Rose Cottage, the Fourth-Form girls’ dormitory.
As Sally guided Kit down the pathway leading to Rose Cottage, she explained about forms, which were the English equivalent of grades. Fourth Form in England was the equivalent of ninth grade in the United States. Sally further explained that Covington, like most English prep schools, went from First Form to Seventh Form, or sixth grade to twelfth grade.
Girls and boys in each form had their own dormitory buildings. Kit was assigned to Rose Cottage, and while she attended Covington, she was supposed to earn points for her house by behaving and doing well in classes and school activities. Poor behavior and inferior achievements in classes and activities would lose house points. The more points a house earned, the better chance it had of winning the house trophy at the end of the year.
Kit liked the idea of such a competition. She had always been a good student, so she figured she’d ace a ton of points for Rose Cottage, win the trophy, and become amazingly popular. After all, why shouldn’t she be popular? She was nice, she was honest, she worked hard, and even if she didn’t ride, she could keep up with any of the other students in every other aspect just fine.
She was especially determined to show Elaine a thing or two.
She told Sally all about the stable fiasco as they toured the first floor of Rose Cottage, detailing Elaine’s snobbish reaction. “She tried to kill me with her eyeballs,” she insisted after Sally showed her the TV room.
“Hardly,” Sally responded with a laugh, moving on to the little student kitchenette, with a cooker (not a stove), a tiny fridge (“No sneaking treats after bedtime,” Sally warned), and the usual counters, cabinets, and sink. “You’ve just arrived,” Sally continued as she led the way down the hall. “Elaine is just a tad . . . Well, you’ll get to know each other better. Her room is just across from yours.”
Kit stopped dead. “She lives here?”
Sally gestured her to keep moving. “She’s the prefect for Rose Cottage.”
They entered the common room, which looked like a little library with books on shelves, a couch, two desks, and a couple of chairs. “What’s a prefect?” Kit asked while looking around.
“The student head of the residence.”
“Oh, awesome,” Kit grumbled. “Elaine can kill me with her eyeballs twenty-four hours a day.”
“Or not.” Sally led her next to what she referred to as the sunroom, a cute square room at the front of the cottage with lots of windows and a pane-glass roof. Kit had read that England didn’t get that many warm, sunny days, so the idea of sunrooms made perfect sense.
Sally was still talking. “You know, I ended up making very good friends with the Elaine of my day at Covington.”
“You went here?”
“Yes. Back in the Elizabethan era.” Chuckling at her joke, Sally led Kit up the stairs and down another hall. She stopped before a closed door. “And here we are.” She indicated for Kit to go inside.
Kit did. “Whoa!” she blurted out, totally overwhelmed. She forgot all about Elaine. This room, this gigantic space with two huge canopy beds and two desks and fancy wall sconces and a couch set and two armoires and a window seat — an actual window seat! — was going to be her room. “Wow!” She dropped her tote and overnight bag onto one of the stuffed chairs, struggling to control the urge to jump up and down.
Sally’s big grin lit up her pretty face. “I’m just down the hall if you need me,” she said, then left, closing the door behind her.
“Madhu, I have to go. My new roommate is here,” a voice said softly.
Kit hadn’t even noticed that she wasn’t alone. Her new roommate sat on one of the canopy beds in front of an open laptop. “All warm wishes from your parents and me, Your Highness,” said a voice from the laptop’s speaker. Kit’s roommate slammed the computer closed with an expression of dismay that vanished the second Kit noticed it.
Kit also noticed the girl’s features. “Hey, I know you. From earlier, right?”
“Aren’t you the one with the cowboy?” the girl responded.
Kit pointed to the laptop. “More importantly, did she just call you Your High —?”
“It’s Anya.” The girl thrust out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Kit.” They shook hands. “Check out these beds. They’re huge!” Kit’s eyes took on a mischievous glint. “And fluffy.” She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She was so excited about everything, and here was the perfect release. It had to be done. There was just no choice in the matter.
She ran a couple of steps and launched herself face-first onto her bed with a satisfying whump. “Come on,” she told Anya, laughing. “You know you want to.”
Anya looked shocked. “Oh, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Proper?” Kit asked, getting back to her feet. “Who cares? There’s no one here.”
Anya paused, thinking it over. She grinned as if contemplating doing the most unruly thing in all the universe — and then hopped onto her bed with hardly any energy at all. She giggled as if someone had tickled he
r. “You are correct! That was fun!”
Oh, dear. Kit realized that Anya might, in fact, be a bigger newbie than Kit herself. That tiny hop? It was pathetic. Clearly Anya needed coaching. “But you can do better,” Kit urged her playfully.
“I can?”
“Oh, yeah. This time, really hurl yourself.” Kit took a ready position. Anya copied her. “Ready? One, two, three!”
Both girls ran at their beds and flung themselves down, laughing.
The door opened. “What is going on here?” Sally demanded.
Kit and Anya answered at the same time: “Nothing, Miss Warrington!” competed with “Just playing on these wicked beds!”
Sally took a deep breath the way adults always did before delivering a lecture. “Now, I know you two are new to Covington, but surely you must know that such childish behavior is strictly forbidden.” She zeroed in on Kit. “Katherine, I gave you some leeway earlier. However . . .” Sally let the sentence hang while Kit looked properly ashamed. Then, with a warning look at both girls, she exited.
Anya covered her face with her hands. “We can never do that again.”
Kit couldn’t believe it. How was Anya ever going to learn to have fun if she gave in so easily? “Oh, we so have to do that again!” she said.
Anya shook her head. “A rule is a rule.”
“A rule is a guideline. At least that was my mom’s take.”
Anya made a point of sitting down on her bed properly. “Well, pink monkeys would tap-dance in the fountain before my parents would say that. I promised that if they allowed me to come to a real school, I wouldn’t get into any trouble.”
That caught Kit’s radar. “What do you mean, a real school?”
Anya paused. “I’ve only had tutors. Homeschool.”
“Dude, you gotta get out more.”
In a more hopeful tone, Anya said, “Though I’m allowed to ride as much as I like as long as I keep my grades up. Shall we plan on a morning gallop together?”
Kit Meets Covington Page 2