The Search for TK Page 7

  Lady Covington’s voice broke through Kit’s reveries. “It’s impolite to stare, Katherine.”

  Kit realized her jaw had been hanging open. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just — you! Biking! Camping! I can’t compute!”

  With a chuckle, Lady Covington directed Kit to a small table where a tea service waited: a hot teapot, two cups and saucers, milk, sugar, and a plate of warm biscuits.

  Kit sat down, still overwhelmed by everything that she’d discovered. “It’s like finding out Bigfoot is a real thing!” she blurted out. Once the words were out of her mouth, she realized that she’d just called Lady Covington Bigfoot.

  Oops.

  The headmistress let it slide. She had something more important to say. “As much as I enjoyed my bicycling adventure, eventually I had to return to my responsibilities . . . which is what I intended to teach you this afternoon.”

  Kit blinked. Their bike ride had been some kind of lesson?

  Lady Covington went on. “I really do want you to stay at Covington, Katherine. But it does require some participation on your part.”

  Kit huddled in her blanket, holding her cup of hot tea with both hands. “I was participating,” she said. “I got on a horse. That was huge for me! Maybe you don’t understand how huge. After the accident, my mom never pressured me to ride. She said that I would find it on my own, and I did. At Covington. With TK. And now”— she gazed into the steaming cup — “he’s gone.”

  Lady Covington thought a moment. “You’re right,” she said.

  Kit’s head threatened to spin. Here she was, sitting with the headmistress of the school after they’d enjoyed a totally outrageous bicycle trip in a torrential rainstorm. They were sharing tea and talking like adults, being open and honest, while their clothes were still damp and strands of wet hair hung in their faces.

  Up to this point, their interactions had focused on spotless uniforms and perfect business suits, formality and discipline, orders and obedience. And now, suddenly, Kit was beginning to see her school administrator differently. Lady Covington was a person. She could be nice! And now she’d just said two words that Kit never in her wildest dreams expected to hear from her: You’re right.

  She was stunned.

  Lady Covington continued, “Perhaps I didn’t understand how huge it actually was.”

  “Well, it was,” Kit managed to say. “And I really want to stay at Covington. I’m just not ready to ride, and I know the deal was that I had to do it today but —”

  “But you did.” Lady Covington indicated their riding helmets lying on the office couch. “You rode a bicycle.”

  Is she kidding? Kit thought. Is she making a joke? Kit did a double take at the helmets. Is she breaking her own rule?!

  “I know how difficult this has been for you.”

  “And TK. Don’t forget TK.” Kit went out on a limb here, but if she was really going to be truthful . . . “I think he deserves another chance,” she said.

  “I hope one day that you’ll understand that I sent him away for your own good.” Lady Covington didn’t use her usual tone of authority to say this. She spoke with honesty.

  Kit appreciated that, but it was still hard to talk about her equine friend. “I just really miss him.”

  “Moving on is not forgetting.”

  Forget TK? Kit thought. Never! I don’t forget the ones I love. That made her think of her mother, and that made her think of her school project. “Hey, maybe you can help me,” she said, setting down her tea. “I’m doing this research for my family tree project, and I was going to do it on my mom, but —”

  “Oh,” Lady Covington interrupted with a strange expression on her face.

  Kit didn’t notice. She was too wrapped up in her idea now. “But I can’t seem to find where she was from. Westingate?”

  Lady Covington said, “I’ve never actually heard of that.”

  “I’ve looked everywhere, and my dad is sure that’s what she told us. Are you sure you’ve never heard of it?”

  Lady Covington stood up. “Excuse me.” And without explanation, she left.

  Kit gaped at the door. “Lady Covington!”

  No reply.

  It was all too much, way too much. “What did I say?” Kit yelled at the empty office. It seemed the storm clouds had made their way inside.

  Outside, rain continued to fall, wind continued to blow, and thunder continued its distant rumbling. And inside a tent, smack in the middle of it all, sat three grumpy teenage boys.

  At first, Rudy had thought that the boys needed to work their problem out by themselves, but more and more he suspected they might never manage it. He’d have thought they were smart enough to see that he’d put them in the same tent on purpose, but were they speaking to one another? Nope. They were moping. Maybe he could give them a little nudge in the right direction. It wouldn’t hurt to try.

  He squatted down, unzipped their tent flap, and poked his head in.

  There sat Will, Josh and Nav, all ignoring one another.

  “So, we’ve settled on the silent treatment, huh?” Rudy asked.

  Josh and Nav threw frowns at him while Will pointedly continued reading his comic, The Hunter, by flashlight.

  Rudy began his plan with a tiny nudge. “Fine,” he said. “Ruin the whole night for yourselves.”

  “Actually,” said Josh, “I think you kind of ruined it, Mr. B.”

  Nav nodded. “It was your duty as the experienced camper to check the weather forecast prior to departure.”

  Will closed his comic. “Yeah, I know you don’t think I know anything about camping, but I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be outside.”

  Well, at least he’d gotten them to agree on something, even if they were wrong. They were outside. Technically. Rudy had been forced to reject that beautiful camping spot by the stream — school rules regarding “inclement weather” and whatnot — so he’d set up camp under one of the school’s big event tents. It wasn’t as if the boys cared one way or another. They knew as much about real camping as he did about billionaire estate planning.

  If only they could see that getting back to nature wasn’t the only point of camping. The camping experience was also about sharing time with friends and enjoying the little things in life, the basics, those simple things that people usually ignored in the hustle and bustle of modern living — things like conversation, laughter, and the wonders of just being alive.

  He nudged them toward that idea by saying, “Well, yeah, part of camping is about being outdoors, but it’s also about . . . what do you call it? Bro time?”

  Will and Josh burst out laughing. “Bro time?” Will snorted.

  Nav winced. “Please don’t speak like Josh, Mr. Bridges. One is more than enough.”

  Good, they were talking about one another instead of him. Now to trick them into talking to one another. Otherwise they’d never get over their argument. Rudy knew about teenage boys, having been one once, so when the next idea popped into his head, he knew it was the right strategy.

  He needed to unite them against a common enemy.

  He pretended to get angry. “Well, excuse me for trying to enrich your lives! I’ve had it with all your buggin’!” He withdrew his head and zipped the tent back up. “Later, skaters!” he snarled, and walked away.

  There, that should do it. He’d purposefully bungled his slang, and they were already laughing about it. Excellent. Next they’d start talking about how lame the camping idea was and how there was nothing to do, and maybe, just maybe, they would get creative and actually think of something to do.

  Like pay attention to one another.

  Rudy grinned. Yeah, they would be friends again in no time.

  Kit chased after the headmistress.

  “I’m sorry!” she said, trotting alongside her because the woman was walking down the hallway with the briskness of a tornado. “What did I say? Lady Covington, I don’t understand!” All Kit had done was ask if she had ever heard of the town Kit’s mom was from
.

  The headmistress stopped abruptly. “I have no idea where Westingate is! I am not an encyclopedia, nor am I your homework buddy! If the information isn’t available, perhaps it was never intended to be found!”

  Whoa, what was going on here? Lady Covington was so riled up that Kit automatically got riled up, too. “But my mom wouldn’t have lied! So why would she say she’s from a place that’s not real?”

  “How would I possibly know the answer to that?” The headmistress calmed down. “Just drop it, Katherine. Go to bed.”

  Kit had thought the corridor was empty, but a cheery voice called out in a cockney accent, “Hello, there! Hi!”

  Lady Covington immediately transformed into the official headmistress. “May I help you?” she asked, her voice fuller and more confident than before.

  A woman, maybe twenty-five years old, walked up to them. She was definitely a character, wearing a blouse with big cascading ruffles in front, six-inch pencil-heeled boots, and an adorable knitted cat-ear beanie. “Daisy Rooney,” she said, holding out a hand. “From Dish Quarterly?”

  “Oh!” Lady Covington responded. “We weren’t expecting you until morning. How delightful!” She shook Daisy’s hand.

  “Soz to just pop in on you,” said Daisy. “I wanted to poke around a bit, you know, have a peek?” She turned to Kit. “Could you manage a quick tour?”

  “That won’t be possible,” said Lady Covington. “She was just on her way to the dorms. Curfew.”

  Kit liked this crazy Daisy person. She was definitely a fellow mischief maker. “We could walk together,” she offered, shaking hands with the reporter. “I’m Kit.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Miss Rooney. I would be delighted to give you a tour and to share with you some of our famous Covington hospitality. Come along.” The headmistress began to lead the way down the corridor.

  Kit liked the reporter even more when she dropped back to say, “We’ll catch up tomorrow, yeah? I totally know about getting a dress-down by a teacher. I was an expert at it.” She winked. “Still am!”

  “Me too!” said Kit. “We’ll compare notes.”

  With a nod of agreement, Daisy hastened after Lady Covington.

  Josh felt trapped. Here he sat in a little green tent (underneath a huge white tent, of all things), smashed between a sulky Nav and a grumpy Will. “Dudes, this tent is too small for all your bad vibes.”

  Nav ignored him and spoke directly to Will. “I can’t believe you set me up to lose. To Josh!”

  “You were being such a jerk about the fact that I couldn’t ride, I had to make the impossible happen.”

  Josh threw his hands in the air. “Can you stop talking like you’re both so surprised that I could win?”

  “I’m not surprised,” Nav told him. “I’m just . . . annoyed. I don’t like to lose.”

  Will nodded. “Neither do I.”

  Josh wanted to say, “So who does?” but he knew that would only fan the flames. He preferred to try to smooth things over between his buds. “It’s the worst, yeah. But,” he said with pride, “when you think about it, none of us are losers compared to Rose Cottage. We totally kicked their butts!”

  “We’re clearly a superior team,” Nav agreed.

  “Except Kit and Anya,” Josh thoughtfully continued. “They’re all right. If they were here, we could be roasting s’mores!”

  Silence.

  Ohhhhhh. All this time, Josh thought the big problem was Nav’s lousy cup ride because of Will, but there was something more going on here. Josh detected the spark of girl trouble in the air. “Look, dudes, the doctor is in, and Dr. Josh kind of feels like you guys are still fighting about Kit even when you’re not fighting about Kit. You know?”

  Nav responded with surprising sincerity. “I think it’s noble to have feelings for a girl. But perhaps it’s even more noble to have a teammate.” He looked at Will. “And a friend.”

  “Yeah, well.” Will fidgeted. “The gentleman might be right. Maybe it’s time we called a bit of a truce?” He held out his hand.

  Nav took it, and they shook.

  Josh felt like he was some kind of official at a formal ceremony. “So is the Will-Nav bromance back on?” he inquired, brows raised.

  Will snorted. “Yeah, but only if we find another name for it.”

  “Yes, let us. How about the Nav-Will”— Nav struggled to find a different word but failed — “bromance?”

  “Awesome. Let’s celebrate!” Josh squirmed back enough to reach his pack and whipped out — what else? — the Covington House Cup. “A little more Elaine torture?”

  They all laughed as they positioned themselves for yet another photo with the cup. Josh pulled out his mobile. “This one’s for the books, boys!” They posed as Josh held out the cup in one hand and his phone in the other.

  Click!

  Nav’s photo smile faded. “I say, chaps, are we actually going to sleep on the ground?”

  The dining hall buzzed with chatter the next morning at breakfast. Everybody had heard that a reporter had arrived at Covington. Some students didn’t know who it was yet, but Kit had told her friends. The information was crackling through the student population like a lightning bolt.

  “Daisy Rooney?” Josh confirmed.

  Kit nodded, but her thoughts were far away as she listened to all the buzz.

  Josh, on the other hand, seemed excited. “She interviewed the Mud Slingers on their way back to London, on their tour bus! She’s an awesome writer.”

  “I heard that she camped out all night just to get that interview,” said Anya.

  “And then the Foxborough Five flew her to California so she could write about their gig at the Bowl!”

  Elaine happened to be walking by. “Ms. Rooney is not here to interview us because we’re rock stars,” she primly informed Josh as she passed.

  “Speak for yourself, Elaine,” he sniped.

  Anya laughed. Then, looking at Kit, she asked, “Are you okay?”

  Kit realized she’d been half zoned out. “Oh! Yeah. Totally. Just thinking.”

  At the head table, Lady Covington tapped her spoon against a glass and stood. “May I have your attention, please?”

  The room quieted.

  “As some of you have heard, a reporter will be joining us for a few days to do an article on Covington. Your best behavior is expected.”

  Kit wasn’t surprised to see Elaine’s hand shoot up. No matter what happened at the school, Elaine always tried to turn the attention to herself. “I’ve been preparing for the interview,” she stated proudly. “I have information on Covington’s history, the early years, the underdog victory of 1987 —”

  “Let us focus on the present, Elaine,” Lady Covington suggested. “I would like us to share the word with potential students about what makes Covington exceptional today.” She leaned forward a bit, and asked the students, “And what is our collective goal for this year?”

  Everyone in the dining hall chorused, “U.K. Boarding School of the Year!” like small children in class. Kit and Anya practically sang it out, grinning at each other.

  As if she’d heard Kit’s thoughts, Lady Covington said, “Such good children. Sometimes, I believe we may actually attain that goal.”

  If we don’t, poor Lady C will pop a gasket, Kit thought.

  “Today we will hear your presentations,” Sally told her English class.

  Kit sat forward in her chair, trying to appear awake and interested. This was her first class after breakfast today, which meant that she had a big sausage, baked beans, toast with jam, fruit, and orange juice roiling around in her tummy trying to digest. Digestion always made her sleepy. She wouldn’t have minded a cup of strong tea to counter it, and that made her think, Wait, I used to like coffee more than tea! OMG, I’ve gone native!

  Sally was still talking. “I’m very excited to hear about all the fun things you’ve learned by diving into your family history. So!” She looked from student to student. “Who would
like to begin?”

  Elaine’s hand shot into the air. Kit imagined that it made a whiplike crack sound, it moved so fast. And of course, nobody else volunteered. Kit considered it, but there was no way she would ace her extremely cool presentation with her eyelids drooping.

  Sally gave up on anyone else and gestured at Elaine. “All right, Elaine. It looks as though you’re our girl.”

  Shining that superior smile of hers, Elaine took her place at the front of the class. She picked up a remote control that operated the class SMART Board, declaring, “My granddad had six sisters, of which I’ve chosen to profile my great-aunt Dottie.” She clicked the remote, and the screen showed a photo of a wealthy elderly woman wrapped in an elaborate fur coat. Elaine had placed three bullet points of information next to the photo:

  • One of seven children

  • Left home at sixteen

  • Became a dress designer

  “She was a dressmaker of some renown —” she continued, but was interrupted when the door burst open and Daisy Rooney sailed in.

  “Hi, everyone! I’m Daisy. I’m sorry I’m late. I got carried away in the dining hall. I maybe ate a thousand pastries! Is that bad?” She winked at the class.

  Kit grinned, delighted to see the flashy reporter again. Daisy wore another very un-Covington-ish outfit: a black belted minidress, over-the-knee black boots (with super-high heels again, Kit noted — Daisy was rather short), and a fuzzy peach sweater. She had black nail polish on and a notebook in one hand, and she was waving her empty one around as she kept talking. “I’m sooo psyched to be here! I love your place. Bit like a castle, innit?”

  “That’s what I said when I got here!” Kit burst out. She found Daisy’s kooky energy irresistible. So much for sleepy digestion! she thought, feeling totally energized again.

  “Oh hey, it’s Kit!” Daisy said with a wave. “Yay!”

  Sally, smiling tightly, hadn’t spoken so far, and Daisy suddenly seemed to realize this. She pointed to the back of the room and told Sally, “I’ll sneak into the back,” as if sneaking was possible after such a rowdy entrance.