"Dude, this movie is awesome! Could you switch on the subtitles?"
Cellie looked up from where she was comfortably sprawled on the shared couch in their suite-style dorm's living area, her eyes tracking Susie as she grabbed a peculiar green drink from the corner kitchen. ("It's a kale smoothie," Susie had once explained—strange vegetarian stuff.) With little ceremony, Susie shoved Cellie's legs off the couch and flopped down next to her. The screen was playing The Grudge—one of Cellie's favorite horror flicks pulled from her small DVD trove—to get into the Halloween spirit for her first stylish celebration of the event. It had been a slow, lazy day following their grueling two-hour practice that morning. While Cellie lounged and indulged in movies and phone games, Susie had retreated to her bedroom for an extended spell, emerging only for drinks or snacks.
Charlotte was away for the weekend with Frank, attending some cosplay event downtown—probably a festival or a book release. Cellie had granted her leave from Games practices that Saturday and Sunday after some persuasive efforts to win Miss Nelson over. Charlotte had responded with an enthusiastic hug and praised her as the best team captain ever—flattery sparked by excitement but welcome, nonetheless. Cellie made sure to savor such moments of appreciation.
"Uh-huh," mumbled Cellie, retrieving the remote from the floor where it had fallen and tossing it to her lavender-haired roommate. "You can switch everything to English; I'm not really watching anyway."
"Cool," Susie replied, promptly making the change.
Cellie was deeply engrossed in Google. She was conducting a comprehensive search on Diana Hitchens out of curiosity. Diana was not just any rider; she was reputedly one of England's finest Hunter/Jumpers and the star of the Stargate Equestrian Program. Rumors about her accolades abounded: highest-scoring rider in the British Show Hunter Association for four consecutive years during her junior career, Champion in the International Hunter Over Fences 3'6"-3'9" division in Spring 2018, and winner of last year's International Overall Championship Horse and Rider award while representing Stargate Equestrian—which itself claimed top honors as Highest Point Hunter/Jumper Team.
Moreover, Hitchens Veterinary was acclaimed as one of Europe's leading veterinary services—arguably one of the best globally, rivaling even Rood and Riddle in the USA. They were also reputed sport horse breeders, particularly of Hanoverians and Holsteiners, with top-earning Thoroughbreds in European racing circles to their credit.
In short, Diana hailed from an illustrious lineage.
Diana kept no social media presence—not that Cellie could blame her since she too had ditched any online profiles after her mother discovered social networking and memes galore. Still, plenty of photos surfaced on image searches: Diana and Beatrix effortlessly clearing massive jumps with immaculate form; posed shots with Miss Meridien adorned with garlands while Diana beamed modestly atop Beatrix; and candid snaps capturing quiet moments between the poised blonde and her impressive bay mare.
"What are you so busy with?" Susie mumbled, taking a sip of her nauseatingly green drink while eyeing the girl at the end of the couch.
"Eh." Cellie shut down the Google page and turned off her phone, lazily tossing it onto the coffee table cluttered with dirty dishes and empty water bottles. She then turned her attention back to Susie. "Not much."
Susie nodded, raising an eyebrow in a way that told Cellie she wasn't buying the 'not much' excuse. She shifted her focus back to the movie and seemed quite content with the silence—after all, it was rare for Cellie to be quiet since she was usually a whirlwind of energy, always disrupting their other two roommates no matter what they were up to.
"Hey, Susie?"
Susie grunted in acknowledgment but didn't take her eyes off the movie as she sank deeper into the couch cushion.
"What do you know about Diana Hitchens?"
"Hitchens?" Susie turned to glance at Cellie, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Uh, she's a jerk. And she's on the Hunt Team. Those aren't mutually exclusive. Why?"
Cellie shrugged, tugging at her t-shirt and staring at the film with vacant eyes. "Just curious."
"Dunno. Google could tell you more than I could," Susie muttered.
Wonderful advice. Cellie rolled her eyes and climbed off the couch, her bare feet padding across the hard floor as she headed into their mini-kitchen for a fresh bottle of water from the fridge. Google had told her plenty about Diana—her accolades, accomplishments, and even those of her family—but none of it answered what she really wanted to know: what's Diana's deal? Why was she so emotionally disconnected from reality and why did she hang out with people who seemed perpetually immature?
Susie's dark eyes tracked Cellie's movements as she returned to the couch and started gulping down her water. "Any particular reason you're curious?" she asked. "Amanda would probably know more if Diana's bothering you. They used to be friends or something. Not that I care."
"Amanda? And Diana?" Cellie's eyebrows furrowed as she lowered her water bottle and stared at Susie's profile. "That's odd."
"Amanda used to be on the Hunt Team," Susie grumbled. "I don't know all the details, and I don't care. Something about a falling out; Amanda quit and went for Games instead. Like I said, I don't care. Don't ask me anything else."
Cellie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Keep your socks on," she muttered before taking another long swig of water and zoning out into her own thoughts while staring at the television screen.
It turns out Amanda used to be part of the Hunt Team. She'd never brought it up before—not in any prior discussions, and the current trio on the Hunt Team hadn't mentioned it either. Cellie mentally noted to ask Amanda about it later, pushing the thought aside along with her unsatisfied curiosity about Diana Hitchens, before diving back into a world of mindless horror.
She missed the bucket. She missed the bucket. Cellie never missed the bucket! With a furious yelp and a jolt of surprise, she twisted Chariot in a sharp 180-degree turn and leapt off mid-spin, clutching the reins with one hand as she dashed to the crumpled sock lying in the sand beside the slightly tilted blue 20-gallon bucket in the lane's center. She hastily tossed it in, clucking to Chariot, who reared slightly before launching off her hindquarters, sending Cellie spiraling into the air and landing flat on her back. Amanda had already surged ahead, completing their team's task—her arm spun triumphantly as she slammed the sock into the bucket, struggling to rein in Star who was still racing along the rail at the arena's edge, disturbing the other ponies. Over the din, Miss Nelson's voice echoed faintly, "Amanda, calm that damn pony down!" as Cellie hooked onto Chariot's cantle and leaned precariously from her side.
Once upon a time, Cellie had to dismount and vault back on to retrieve items from the ground. But after mastering proper stretching techniques and enhancing her flexibility, it became much easier to hang off her horse's side to grab what she needed. Of course, Chariot played a massive role—the mare trotted straight without guidance and knew exactly when to turn sharply, even dramatically dipping her body to aid Cellie's efforts. As they whipped around the lane's end, Cellie's fingers found another half-buried sock; she righted herself in the saddle just as Chariot burst into an all-out gallop.
Usually, she'd pump her arms or kick at Chariot's sides to accelerate. But with Amanda's team already victorious, there was no point now. She dunked the last sock into the bucket with a flourish of her arm and eased back into the saddle to slow down her panting pony.
"What happened there, Cellie?" Miss Nelson queried as Chariot screeched to a halt before Mushroom, who pranced excitedly while Susie examined her chipped black nail polish.
"Too late, I guess," Cellie responded between heavy breaths as she kicked her feet out of the stirrups—an action that calmed Chariot considerably—and guided her flaring-nostriled mare up to Coach. "I got cocky."
There was a reason for her overconfidence—it involved the Hunt Team strolling toward their own arena during the race—but that was something she'd never admit aloud. Mentally chastising herself for showing off was enough. After all, it wasn't like the Hunt Team even considered them a real sport.
Miss Nelson nodded thoughtfully while tossing a leftover tennis ball from an earlier race in her hand, surveying her team with keen eyes. "It happens. Well, I don't think there's much more we can improve on before facing Appleton this weekend. We'll fine-tune our hand-offs next practice. Until then," she said with a pointed look at Amanda, "take it easy on your ponies; they don't need sour moods heading into competition."
"Amanda rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh, hoisting Star into a small rear despite Nelson's sharp reprimand of, 'Stop doing that!' She knew their coach's scolding by heart—rearing was an awful habit—but Amanda reveled in the rebellious satisfaction of it and had even trained her spunky pony to rear on command.
Cellie wasn't going to deny it; she found it somewhat impressive and had taught Chariot to rear slightly for hand-offs, which seemed beneficial when the taller ponies like Cookie were involved.
'Cool out,' Nelson barked with a wave, spotting Miss Carmichael and hastening toward the other coach. Cellie lazily undid the knot in her cotton reins, giving Chariot enough slack to stretch her neck as they ambled around the arena. They weaved through poles left from their warm-up without much thought. Cellie's gaze drifted to the Hunt Team's arena where Miss Meridien leaned against a jump standard, absorbed by her phone. Diana looked flawless, her posture slightly forward as Beatrix's neck and back curved elegantly, their stride long and fluid. Hannah appeared poised as well, guiding her chestnut gelding in a wide circle while focusing intently on his shoulder. Barbara seemed troubled—Belle was skittishly weaving at the fence, snorting loudly at whatever had unsettled her.
Remembering Susie's words from the previous weekend, Cellie spotted Amanda across the arena, looking bored as Star jigged around some cones. She walked over and asked quietly so others wouldn't hear, 'Hey, want to grab a drink tonight?'
Amanda glanced up with a raised eyebrow while unbuckling her helmet. 'Is that a real question?' she smirked slowly. 'I'm always up for a drink. What's on your mind?'
'We need to sort out the line-ups for this weekend's games,' Cellie explained, leaning back in her saddle. Chariot nipped at the toe of her boot playfully.
'Wow, you actually want my input this time?' Amanda shrugged, running a hand through Star's short black mane. 'That's new. Cool, sure. Last Wednesday?'
Cellie nodded. Amanda had only been allowed back into the pub after Cellie nearly dragged her in to apologize to the owner for past behavior. Convincing Amanda was no easy feat, but Cellie wasn't about to frequent any grimy pubs where rowdy crowds played pool and drinking games. She tugged Chariot's reins toward the gate of their arena. The mare pranced before settling into her brisk walk, neck raised curiously at the other ponies and riders nearby."
As the team drifted away from the arena and returned to the barn, Cellie could feel the scrutinizing gaze of the Hunt Team on them. Hannah was openly staring, and although Cellie couldn't see her expression, she guessed it was one of intense distaste. However, staying true to her word so far, Diana hadn't let her teammates give the Games Team even a menacing glance. Her team, too, had refrained from instigating any trouble. The atmosphere between them remained as tense and uncomfortable as ever—far from idyllic—but it was a step forward nonetheless.