The Search for TK Page 9

  “For me?” Kit asked.

  “Yeah,” said Daisy. “We’re not done talking yet, are we? I’ve heard about so much going on around here, and I think you”— she pointed at Kit —“can help me sort it all out, yeah?” She added with a wink, “Got a lot in common, you and me. Like good mates. Makes it easier, you know?”

  Kit felt like she’d been given a high compliment. Daisy is famous, and she considers me a friend, somebody who can help her? Wow! “Sure, come on,” Kit said, and she headed for the staircase.

  “So tell me about that totally cute guy from lunchtime,” Daisy said. “The first one, Mr. Serious. If you ask me, he belongs on a magazine cover.”

  “Tell me about it,” Kit agreed. “His name is Will Palmerston. He’s really nice when you get to know him. He just doesn’t talk much. He really helped me, too. He’s a great rider. Fearless, the kind that belongs with the horses.”

  “And the other one? The smooth one?”

  They were all smooth, as far as Kit could tell. “There are lots of sophisticated boys here from all over the world. Totally crush-worthy!” She said that last part in a low voice. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell Daisy that particular juicy truth. She simply didn’t want everybody else to hear her say it.

  Daisy said, “He seems really nice, too.”

  “And smart. And charming.”

  When they reached Kit’s room, Daisy stopped dead in the doorway. “Wow! This bedroom is fab! Way better than my boarding school. We were jammed in six to a bedroom. It was like living in a shoe box!” She wandered in, looking around, and then zeroed in on Kit’s bed. With a leap, she flung herself on the soft mattress. Whomp!

  Kit laughed, remembering how she’d done the exact same thing the day she’d arrived at Covington. “Now that we’re here,” she said, “do we start the slumber party?”

  Daisy perched herself on Anya’s bed. “Let’s make it interesting. Truth or Dare. Which boy does your heart really belong to? I’m dying to know.”

  “So not fair!” Kit responded.

  “Well, tell me anyway.”

  Kit debated between Will then Nav then Will then Nav — and then blurted out, “TK.” When Daisy rolled her eyes, Kit said, “I really love him. Call me a cheeseball, but we conquered our fears together, and that leaves you bonded for life, you know?”

  Daisy nodded, listening.

  “Hey, wait,” Kit said as a terrific idea came to her. “Do you have ways we might be able to find TK?” Surely if anybody could track down a missing person (or horse), it would be a reporter.

  “I could totally look into it,” Daisy offered. “But how did you lose him?”

  Anya entered the room in workout sweats with her iPod in her hand. She gave Kit a smile in greeting as she removed her earbuds.

  Kit waved back. “He and I basically embarrassed Lady C by not being perfect, so she sent him away,” she said to Daisy.

  “She didn’t!”

  “She did. It’s just the worst. It’s all rules, all the time.”

  Daisy sat up very straight and said as if she were Lady Covington, “Young lady, it has come to my attention that you had corn puffs for breakfast when the rules strictly state that Wednesday is an oatmeal day.”

  Kit joined in. “Katherine Bridges, detention for life!”

  Daisy laughed, but behind her, Anya seemed upset. She stared pointedly at Kit.

  Clueless, Kit smiled back as Daisy said, “I can’t believe she sent TK away.”

  “I’m going to find him,” Kit stated. “And bring him back. Print that, would you?”

  Now Anya looked positively alarmed. “Kit!” she said sharply. “Curfew?” She indicated Daisy.

  Kit didn’t know exactly what time it was, but it certainly wasn’t late enough for curfew. “No, it’s not,” she said, “not until —”

  “Curfew!” Anya insisted.

  Kit noticed Daisy’s amusement. “You’re a trip, Kit,” the reporter said. “Shall we chat more tomorrow?”

  “I would love that!” Kit replied happily. What a hoot! She was making friends with a famous reporter! She couldn’t stop grinning after Daisy left.

  Anya wasn’t grinning, not one bit. “So much gossip!” she said, aghast. “Just please tell me you said the three magic words?”

  Whoa, what’s the matter? Kit thought. Anya’s frown had a hard edge to it that Kit had never seen before. Okay, maybe she doesn’t like Daisy. Or maybe she doesn’t like reporters? Either way, Kit could only guess what Anya’s three magic words might be. “Abracadabra? Ta-da? Hocus-pocus?”

  “Off the record,” Anya stated. “You do realize she could print everything you just said. And she probably will!”

  “Daisy wouldn’t do that.”

  “It’s something I learned in princess training. Don’t tell the media anything you don’t want to see on a billboard.”

  Kit’s heart sank. Uh-oh.

  At her father’s request, Kit began the next morning in the tack room with him and a cup of yummy hot chocolate. She was mostly getting used to the damp English mornings, but despite her layered school uniform, her hands were always cold. It was wonderful to hold the hot cup and feel a thousand tiny tendrils of warmth seep through her fingers.

  “So the reporter was fun?” Rudy asked her, leaning back in his chair and thudding one booted foot down on the tabletop.

  Kit slurped some of her drink, smacking her lips in approval. “She had a million hilarious stories about the bands that she’s interviewed, but . . . I may have pulled a bit of a Kit.” Long ago the phrase “pulling a Kit” had become code for blabbering on without an end in sight.

  “What, did you say something that wasn’t quite true?” Rudy asked.

  “I mostly talked about TK . . . ?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

  “I hope I don’t have to. So what’s up? Why did you ask me to meet you before class?”

  Rudy set down his cocoa and stood. “I wanted to give you something,” he explained, heading for the shelf unit against the opposite wall. “I saw your presentation yesterday, and I can tell it’s been bugging you.” He picked up a polished wooden box and carried it over to Kit. “Before we moved, I put a few of your mom’s things together just in case either of us got to missing her too much. I was waiting for the right time to give it to you.”

  Kit braced herself before lifting the lid. The box wasn’t very big, but she was sure that whatever Rudy had chosen to put into it would make her cry. Heck, she thought, I almost cried at the House Cup when he gave me mom’s lucky Ugly Brooch, and that brooch is the grossest thing on the planet! Kit still had it, though, safely stored in her room.

  She slowly lifted the box lid. Memories flooded her mind at the sight of the first item, a small plush horse. Kit remembered giving it to her mom as a birthday present when she had been five years old. It had been one of those presents a kid gives a parent because they’re the one who really wants it. Rudy had helped her pick it out, of course.

  “What shall I name such a pretty little horse?” Elizabeth had asked young Kit.

  Kit had been in love with a TV show about a girl and her pony called Moony, so she had replied, “Moony!”

  Now Kit picked Moony up and set him aside, fighting off tears. Underneath Moony lay Dabney the Dragon, a green hand puppet her mother had used to play “doctor” whenever Kit had gotten sick. Dabney, her mom had explained, specialized in “sick Kits,” so he was always the one who brought her frosty Popsicles when she had a sore throat or tissues when she had a cold. Now, without her mom’s graceful fingers guiding his movements, Dabney looked less like a doctor and more like a patient.

  Oh, there were so many wonderful mementos in the box! But suddenly, all Kit could think about were the things that weren’t there, like the answers to several mysterious questions. “It just doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “When I was little, we invented this whole town made out of old cans and boxes, remember? And we called it West
ingate because that’s where she came from.”

  “You’re right,” said Rudy. “I remember that.”

  “What does it mean?”

  Rudy shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I just know that her parents died when she was seventeen, and she moved to the States. She never wanted to talk about it more than that.”

  “I thought you lovebirds told each other everything,” Kit teased, waggling her eyebrows.

  Rudy smiled. “Except that. She always said it made her too sad to think about. I didn’t want to push her. Maybe this”— and Rudy knocked on the box with one knuckle — “will help you figure some things out.”

  Maybe, Kit thought. I hope so.

  After his meeting with Leo, Nav looked for Josh and found him out on the grounds watching a rugby match between the boys of Birch House and Alder House. “If you have a moment, I would like to speak with you,” he told Josh.

  “Sure, roomie. I gotta get back for class anyway.”

  So the two boys walked together. Nav chatted aimlessly for a few minutes about horses and whatnot, trying to lull Josh into a false sense of security before he pounced on the real issue: “Joshua, we need to solve our dorm-room difficulty. You know things can’t stay the way they are.”

  “Difficulty?” Josh asked. “What difficulty? Look, it’s a done deal. I mean, why would I want to switch again? My hearing is only just coming back.”

  Nav presumed he was referring to Leo, and his jackhammer snoring. Unfortunately for Josh, facts like snoring didn’t matter, not to Nav, anyway. “Les jeux sont faits,” he said in French. “The game is over. You simply must move out of my room now.”

  Josh shook his head. “No way, dude. Absolutely not, okay? It’s never going to happen.”

  “Okay, look. Name your price for the room. I will entertain all offers until noon. After that, you leave me no choice but to employ the Too Bad Clause.”

  “What’s that?”

  Nav did his best to translate “You’ll find out” into a facial expression. He let Josh get nice and nervous before turning his back and leaving.

  Kit munched cereal in the dining hall while picking through the memory box Rudy had given her. Along with Moony the plush horse and Dabney the dragon puppet, she found the ribbon her mother had won at the Fox Run Horse Show. The event had been a fund-raiser for the Fox Run Horse Club for Kids, which Kit had joined when she was eight — right before her accident with Freckles.

  Her mom had entered the Parents’ Pony Run, a hysterical event involving ponies, fistfuls of juicy carrots, and lots of silly running around. Elizabeth Bridges had maintained the family’s honor and won first place. Kit remembered laughing so hard that she’d almost tossed her picnic lunch.

  I miss you, Mom, she thought, closing the box. Then she spotted the person she’d hoped to see most since the evening before. “Daisy!” she called.

  “Hi!” said Daisy, coming over.

  The flamboyant reporter wasn’t dressed quite as loudly as the day before. She still sported a miniskirt and those wild boots, but today she wore a simple white knit top. Her sweater, on the other hand, might have been made out of a fuzzy yak. “I’m so glad I ran into you,” Kit said.

  “Well, it’s nice to see you, too,” Daisy said, taking a seat.

  “Yeah. So, um, yesterday, I, uh, well — I kind of have a big mouth, and I said all sorts of things, but I sort of forgot the three most important words.”

  Daisy leaned in and suggested, “I love crisps? No, wait — he’s so cute!”

  Kit shook her head. “Off the record.” She expected Daisy to get upset.

  If anything, Daisy seemed charmed by Kit’s nervousness. “Oh, Kit, you’re so cute. Don’t worry. I don’t even know what the main focus of the story is yet or who it’s going to be about. And I was thinking, if I do write about TK, it could be a really big help in finding him.”

  Was she serious? Would she really go out of her way like that to help? “That would be awesome! Thank you!” The tight lump of fear in Kit’s chest loosened, and she sat back, relieved. “Phew! ‘Cause sometimes I shoot my mouth off and —”

  “Don’t give it another thought.” With that settled, Daisy pointed at the memory box. “What’s happening here?”

  “Oh,” Kit said, opening the box again, “check this out. I told you that stuff about my mom? Well, my dad gave me this box of her old things. He thought it might help solve the mystery.”

  Daisy peered inside. Instantly her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, crazy coincidence!” She picked up an old all-access pass for a band called Box of Kittens, appearing at the Glacier Club, in London, on their “Adorable Tour.” “I know the bass player from Box of Kittens, Rupert Jackson. He was one of my first ever interviews, and we kept in touch.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Do you think your mum was in the music scene?”

  Knowing so little about her mother’s past made that a difficult question to answer. “She knew her music,” Kit said, remembering her mom’s collection of CDs, cassettes, and old vinyl albums. “But she was only in London a little bit before she moved overseas.”

  “I can ask him, if you like,” Daisy offered. “Can’t hurt. I’ll take a snap!” She used her mobile to take a photo of the badge. “You look like her.”

  “You think so?” Kit fidgeted in her chair, recalling times when she’d stood in front of her bedroom mirror with a photo of her mom, wondering if they looked anything alike. She’d never thought so, and that had always made her feel strange. But here was Daisy, telling her there was a resemblance. “I’d like that,” Kit said, smiling.

  Daisy poked at her mobile. “I’ll text this to Rupert and see if he recognizes her from the old Box of Kittens days.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  Daisy smiled. “Anything for a friend.”

  After dinner, Will couldn’t face going back to his room, soon to be filled by Leo’s thunderous snoring, so he went to the stable. It was as good a time as any to clean Wayne’s stall. When he was done with that, he gave the chestnut gelding a good grooming.

  While he worked, he entertained Wayne with a complete report of the day’s events. He liked to keep Wayne up to date, but today he really needed to unload. Who else could he talk to?

  “It’s boring,” he grumbled while brushing Wayne’s silky coat. “And it’s irrelevant. Like, when am I actually going to need maths in the real world?”

  Wayne grunted and lipped some hay into his mouth. He nudged Will, chewing, as if to say, “Well, go on.”

  Will resumed brushing. “My dad would say I need it so I don’t end up living in some alley somewhere. But like he and the dread Tanya even care, as long as it’s not their alley.”

  He froze as a crash sounded outside of Wayne’s stall. “Oh, no!” squeaked a familiar voice.

  Kit wanted to kick herself. She had come to the stables to visit TK’s stall.

  No, not visit. If she was going to be honest, she had planned to brood in TK’s stall. Again. But when she’d heard Will talking to Wayne, she’d gotten curious. Stupid shovels, she thought of the stack she’d just knocked over. She straightened up so that she could peek through the bars of Wayne’s stall and see Will.

  Will saw her, too.

  “I am so sorry,” Kit said, carefully stepping out of the pile of fallen shovels. “I was trying to make a graceful exit to give you some space, but I’m me, so grace isn’t exactly my go-to. Knocking a bunch of shovels over, though? That’s totally my specialty.”

  Will set down the soft body brush he’d been using on Wayne and joined her outside the stall. He folded his arms but said nothing.

  “It helps, though, doesn’t it? Talking to them?” Kit watched Will glance at Wayne, who blinked back at him, lazily chewing his hay. She imagined TK doing that and remembered how she would lose herself in his bright brown eyes. “I really miss TK. Just being near his stall sometimes helps.” Then she realized what her presence must have looked like to Will. “And tha
t’s what I was doing, I swear! I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

  Will gave her a knowing smirk.

  “They’re great listeners,” Kit went on. “And so am I. Actually. So if you want to talk —”

  “No,” Will muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t know. . . .”

  He seemed so sad that Kit couldn’t help but try to lift his spirits. “I know,” she said apologetically. “I’m no Wayne.”

  That made Will chuckle.

  Score one for Bridges! Kit thought, pleased with herself. “So you got to see your dad today?”

  “Yeah. For fifteen minutes. He drove two hours here to make me feel awful.”

  “Just for fifteen minutes?”

  “Yeah. Lady Covington wanted a meeting. So she spoke through most of the fifteen minutes anyway.”

  “Sounds like her. It’s too bad he didn’t get to stay to hear your family tree project. Who’d you do?”

  “Him.” Will smiled, a bitter smile that made Kit’s heart go out to him. “He used to be my favorite person.”

  Kit debated how to respond. She had no idea what it would feel like to have uncaring parents. Being rejected by anybody hurt badly enough, but your own parents?

  Dual rings broke the conversation. Kit and Will both pulled out their mobiles. Kit’s screen displayed a text message: Please come to the student lounge as soon as possible. Thank you. Nav.

  Kit had gotten texts from Nav before and always laughed at his lack of abbreviations. Then again, he was always so smart and proper that spelling everything out in full and using proper punctuation was probably part of Navarro DNA.

  Will showed her that he’d received the same message. “Just before venturing into potentially awkward territory full of the feels,” he said with a small grin. “Come on, let’s go.”

  When Kit and Will arrived in the student lounge a few minutes later, the first thing to greet their eyes was a bed, or more specifically, bedclothes. Josh’s sheets, blankets, and pillows lay arranged on the floor as though they were on an actual bed. Boxes stuffed with Josh’s belongings were stacked on either side. Next to them, an umbrella stand had been loaded with a hockey stick, baseball bat, golf clubs, and various pairs of athletic shoes.