Kingston University for the Gifted

Chapter 1: Tropical Paradise

When most people think of an exclusive university, they think of the rich. The elite of society, preparing for a life as a successful businessperson, a famous doctor, or loaded actor. Kingston University for the Gifted- the words roll off my tongue- is different. I'm not rich, or famous, or genius. I'm stepping off this ferry because I worked for it, and I deserve the chance.

As a kid who grew up in Massachusetts, I'd never seen anything close to a tropical paradise, but what I see in front of me is more than I'd imagined. Lush gardens, palm trees, green grass, and white beaches stretch across the island.

Two other students walk by me, chatting excitedly about the campus. "I heard the government spent 10.5 million dollars building the facility," one girl whispers in a voice louder than a whisper.

"I suppose that's what one would expect," the other says, "when you turn an uninhabited island into an Olympic training facility."

"All incoming freshman, please report to the main hall for registration," a voice calls over the loudspeakers cleverly hidden in the palm leaves.

I pick up my bags and drag/carry them to the huge brick building by the docks. Here students are already lined up with luggage of all shapes and sizes, chatting quietly or staring at each other suspiciously. I suppose in a few years, we will compete against each other, so the awkwardness is expected. I join the line and become one of the teens 'suspiciously staring.'

"Next," the lady at the desk calls. I step forward and set my bags down.

The lady smiles and shakes my hand over the desk. "My name is Mrs. Sanders. I'm the head of administration here at Kingston University. Welcome," she says. "What's your name and what's your discipline?"

I scratch the back of my neck. It's a bit of a nervous habit, and there's plenty to be nervous about here. "Kyle Trevail, ma'am. Equestrian."

"Good!" Mrs. Sanders says warmly. "You're the first rider that's checked in today." She taps away at her laptop and prints out a class schedule and info sheet. "Here. You'll be staying in Birch Hall, with the other male riders, archers, fencers, and gymnasts. Room number 42, and your roommate is Matthew Read. Classes start tomorrow."

She hands me the papers and a room key and calls for the next in line, a preppy guy in designer clothes with way too many bags. He slams his shoulder against mine as I walk past. I guess not everybody here is friendly.

The grounds are just as beautiful as the scenery by the docks. I'm lucky- very lucky- to be here, at Kingston U, a government-run college for Olympic prospects. No tuition, only the promise to ride in the 2028 Olympics when we're seniors. Otherwise I could never afford to come to a high-end boarding school like this one.

Unfortunately, Birch Hall is all the way across the island, and I have 60 pounds of luggage. Luckily, it's right next to the stables.

The RA smiles and waves me past the front desk. The sign in front of him reads Brandon Messier. There's a pile of campus maps in front of the sign, so I grab one on my way past.

Room 42 is on the ground floor, down the hall by the cafe and to the right. I open the door, unsure of what I'll find.

I'm pleasantly surprised. The room is huge, as far as dorm rooms go, with a common room and two small bedrooms. There's a couch, a coffee table, and a TV in the common room and a small bed, a closet, and a desk in each of the bedrooms.

After a quick look, I dump all my stuff on the floor in the left bedroom and change into jodhpurs and a navy polo. I want to see the stables.

Kingston has massive stables, as it turns out. The stalls are set in a ring around an Olympic-size indoor arena. Another arena for dressage is attached to the back of the structure, and three outdoor arenas circle the barn outside. In the distance, I can see pastures and a few cross-country courses. This place is heaven, much different from the run-down old stables where I rode before.