Kingston University for the Gifted

Chapter 8: She Set It Up Months Ago

I shiver as I walk out of the Languages building. It was a mistake not to bring a light jacket today; now, in mid-December, it was cold. Even, I think, for an island off the coast of California. Theoretically, I should be used to much colder winters, living in New England, but the warm weather seems to have lulled me into a false sense of security. Winter break in Massachusetts is going to be Siberia compared to here.

Opal grins up at me. "Chilly?" she asks.

I shoot her a look. She had the foresight to bring a sweater. "Shut up," I mutter. "At least I didn't tell the French teacher that I ate a shoe for breakfast."

She laughs and shakes her head. "I'm afraid Languages are not my forte," she mourns. "Luckily for you, riding is. Speaking of which, we're going to be late for Kiera's inter-team practice if we don't get changed quickly."

I shove my books in my bag. "You're right, as usual," I say. "See you soon?"

She nods and set off towards the girls' dorm at a speed walk that would put moms all over the country to shame. I grin and head toward my dorm.

Ten minutes later, we join Neville and Matt in the arena. The other seven students are scattered throughout the space, chatting and waiting for Kiera to tell us what we're doing today.

She finally appears at the gate with a stack of papers in her hands. "Over here, please!" she calls, gesturing for us to join her in the aisle.

"Make yourselves comfortable," she says, sitting down in the middle of the concrete floor. I sit leaning against one of the hay bales lining the aisle, and the rest of my teammates spread themselves in a half circle around Kiera.

"Alright, let's get to business," she says. "Only a short exercise ride today, but you can do that later. You have a show in two days."

"What?" Justin exclaims. "Where? What events? Against what competition?" The rest of us are equally as shocked, if a bit less verbal. If you don't know what I mean by 'less verbal,' picture a group of 18 year olds opening and closing their mouths like fish.

"Here, of course," Kiera explains. "I set it up months ago. Didn't you wonder why we were training so hard? I invited Jack Dalton University's team and Blue Ribbon Riding Club to join us. They'll be sending their advanced and intermediate riders, so every event will be full. It's a three day event, and the dressage and show jumping teams will compete on their particular days. I arranged for you to ride your primary mounts against the advanced riders and secondary against the intermediates."

We sat in stunned silence. "I've got tasks here for all of you," she continues, "and your schedules for the show. You've got today and tomorrow to help the grooms prepare the stable and show grounds before the competition arrives early Friday morning. You are exempt from classes from now until Tuesday, so you can rest on Monday before your last exams."

"Kiera," I ask slowly, "how prestigious are these teams?"

"They're the best," Justin answers me, "and their advanced riders are known to climb to world competitions soon after graduating." He doesn't sound happy.

Kiera beams at me. "You should do well," she says. "After all, you're all handpicked for excellence, and so are your horses. And Kyle, I gave you some time on your schedule to get Sol adjusted to the atmosphere of a show. It's alright if you don't win first prize; he's never showed."

My cheeks burn. I think Sol is calm enough for a good performance at his first show, even if Kiera isn't sure.

She passes out the papers in her hand and stands up. "Read these over and memorize them, start on the tasks, and don't forget to give your primary mounts some exercise. You already worked your secondaries." She shoos us away and walks back to her office. She must be swamped with paperwork and phone calls.