Page 19 of The Rebel
“Hey, hey, what’s this?” he said, his hand stroking the top of my head.
“She’sleaving me behind,” I cried, a heavy emphasis on Mom’s wrong-doing.
Dad chuckled, which was not the reaction I expected. I pulled back and glowered up at him. This wasn’t a joke, being left with the Sinclairs was no laughing matter.
“Poppet.” Dad gently placed his hands on my shoulders, his expression serious. “Sweetie, it’s not about leaving you behind. This isn’t a vacation. We’re not going on a sightseeing tour.”
“Yes, it’s work,” Mom jumped in, abandoning the soft and serene approach, no doubt spurred by Dad’s presence. “And it’s going to be a grueling schedule for Paris. We want to be able to support him in this.”
“This is a great opportunity for Paris to get a taste of life on the tour,” Dad said, “and his agent thinks having us along will benefit him. Like we said, it’s only for month.”
My heart sunk, Dad, usually my ally, I now viewed as a traitor.
“But why do you have to go?” I said, adopting a pity plea with downcast eyes and a pout. I understood that Mom was Paris’s physical therapist, but Dad had no coaching or training role with Paris. He didn’thaveto go on tour with him. He could stay at home with me, instead of sending me to the neighbor’s house.
“Poppet,” Dad said, blowing out a strained breath, “we want to be there for Paris. There will be other chances for you to come on tour, but for now, you need to stay in school.”
“But Paris needs me, too. I help with his food and drink prep,” I said, desperate to persuade them to change their minds. At tournaments, it was my job to make sure Paris had all his favorite foods and supplements while playing.
“Yes, and he appreciates that,” Dad said, “but this time round, this is the best thing for everyone.”
“Best for Paris,” I muttered.
“Best for Paris, best for you,” Dad said with a finality that told me that nothing was going to change, that no amount of begging, pleading or crying would sway their decision.
He drew me in for a hug, but I pushed against his chest, turning away and storming across to my bathroom, slamming the door so hard that the shower door rattled.
Stunned and confused, I stood with my back against the door for a moment before sliding down the tiles, hugging my knees to my chest.
How was it that in a blink of an eye my life had changed so much? Because no matter that Gabby had said nothing would change now that she was dating Scott, I wasn’t naive enough to know it already had. Scott was at her house eating dinner, doing homework together, when it should have been me. They were probably crooning songs of love into each other’s ears and eating chocolate brownies.
And now my parents were about to ditch me to join Paris in Europe. Not that I should be surprised by it. Paris was the number one child, the one the world revolved around. And up till now, I’d always been a part of everything, always included in my brother’s journey to the big time.
But it seemed like that was no longer the case.
And that left a wide, gaping hole in my heart.
Chapter 6
JADE
The sound of the vacuum cleaner led me down the hallway toward the guest room. Strange that Mom was cleaning at this time of the evening. I was ravenous, having just come back from a session at the school gym, but mixing up a protein shake could wait a minute.
“Hiya,” I called over the noise, Mom pushing the machine around the side of the bed. Shutting it off, she looked around and surveyed the floor. No one came in here, so it was hardly in a mess, maybe a bit of dust. “What’s going on?”
“We’re having a guest,” Mom said, unplugging the cord, satisfied at her work.
“Gramma and Pops?” I asked, more in hope than anything, knowing it would be a bone of contention. But eighteen months was a long time without contact and surely the cold war couldn’t continue indefinitely. At some point either Mom or my grandparents would have to cave.
“No,” Mom brushed my comment aside without a reaction. “Valencia.”
“Valencia Reid?” I jolted, shocked by her reply, even though there was absolutely no chance there was more than one Valencia.
“Uh huh,” Mom said without a smile, obviously the mention of Gramma and Pops dampening her mood. “Kristin and Clint are going on tour with Paris. Just for a month.” But she suddenly brightened up. “I offered for Valencia to stay here. They were thinking about putting her into the boarding school. But it seems silly for a month.”
“Where’s Paris going?” I asked, an odd rush of blood flooding my veins and a weird tingling shooting down my spine. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Europe,” Mom said.
