Page 22 of The Rebel
Mom bit down on her lower lip to smother a smile.
“And I’m thankful for socks,” I contributed, “so I don’t have to smell Ollie’s disgusting feet.”
Mom grimaced and squeezed our hands a little firmer. “And thank you for bringing Valencia to us tomorrow in the hope that the quality of conversation may improve a little.”
“Amen,” Mom and Ollie chimed in unison, mine a little less vocal.
“Mom, can we go sledding tonight?” Ollie asked.
“Not tonight,” Mom said, “it’s a school night.”
“I told you you’ve got weight training tonight,” I said, determined to follow through on my promise. “Gotta build up those weedy arms of yours.”
“But what about when Valencia’s here? She likes sledding.”
“Does she now?” Mom asked.
“Yeah,” Ollie said.
“She probably likes it better when you’re not crashing into her sled,” I said, poking an unfamiliar green thing onto my fork.
“It’s zucchini,” Mom said, like she’d read my mind.
“It was an accident,” Ollie was immediately in defensive mode. “She was in my way and I couldn’t stop.” He went on to tell Mom about Valencia’s nosebleed and how I fixed her up. He even told her that I’d bought hot chocolate.
“That was so she wouldn’t sue us,” I joked. “You know, sweeten her up.”
“Oh,” Mom said. “Kristin didn’t mention that. But it’s good that you’ve all been reacquainted. I’m sure she’ll fit right in.”
I had a sudden memory of Valencia at her locker, hair tied up in a high ponytail, her brown eyes heavily lined in black, her cheeks turning pink when I spoke to her. Had she been embarrassed because I mentioned the nosebleed? Or was it me?
“Does it taste okay?”
“Huh?” Mom’s voice blinked me back to reality.
“The zucchini. Do you like it?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t really taste of much,” I said.
“Oh, I thought you were licking your lips in pure delight at my flavors.”
I nodded, not realizing my tongue had rolled across my lips, but I certainly hadn’t been thinking about zucchini.
No, definitely not zucchini.
Chapter 7
VALENCIA
Mom was on my case before my alarm had gone off. Banging on my door like the zombie apocalypse was nigh, Volley jumped off of the bed and fled in terror.
“I need your suitcases downstairs,” Mom said, “we want to get them to Dani's as soon as possible.”
“And good morning to you,” I muttered beneath my sheets, before pushing back my cover and wrenching myself from my cozy bed.
“Let’s get moving,” Mom said, her gaze stopping on the open red suitcase on the floor. There were some clothes in it, but I’d not finished packing yet.“Valencia!”Mom’s cry was as dramatic as a Shakespearian tragedy, “I told you to pack yesterday. You said you were all done.”
“Geez, I’m only going next door. What’s the big deal?” I said, wrapping my fleecy robe around me. “I’ll be coming back to feed Volley everyday.”
