Page 23 of The Rebel
Mom gasped in exasperation, staring at me like I was a brat. “I told you we needed to get your suitcases out early. Can you,just for once,follow instructions?”
“Don’t worry,” I said, randomly flinging some clothes out of my drawers into the suitcase, “I’ll get it done.”
“Your father and I have to drive to Falls Creek,” Mom fumed as if it was a mission akin to climbing Mount Everest, when it was less than an hour’s drive to the airport. “I’ve made a list downstairs, there’s a few things I want you to keep an eye on.”
With the suitcase stuffed, I zipped it up and stood it on its wheels. “There!” I huffed, “All ready to go.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed, clearly unimpressed with my display of petulance, but my rage had been simmering since Paris had video called me last night. He’d be meeting Mom and Dad at Miami International this afternoon so they could fly out together.
“You’re not coming on the tour?” he’d said bluntly, his jaw clenched firmly like he was angry with me. When it was totally the reverse.
“Well, I’m not allowed to miss too much school.” I scrunched my nose and sneered at him, my sarcasm thick, “I’d hate to be a distraction.”
Paris scratched his chin. “Is that what Mom said?”
“Yesssss,” I hissed, giving him a wide-eyed stare before mimicking Mom’s voice.“It isn’t a vacation, Valencia, it’s work. Paris needs to be able to focus on his tennis.”
“Yeah, well, it’s an intense schedule, for sure.” Paris sniffed and scratched his ear, seeming to be distracted by something or someone off screen.
“Well, good luck, I guess,” I said, unable to suppress my dry tone. It was obvious my brother had other things to do, people to talk to, dreams to conquer, and I was an inconvenience.
“Yeah,” he said, sniffing again like he had a cold. “Uh, so I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Yeah,” I tutted.
“Behave yourself with the Sinclairs,” Paris said. “And say hi to Jade for me. I haven’t seen him in ages.”
“He was in London on a school exchange thing last semester,” I said, trying to show that I knew more about his friend than he did.
But he said, “Yeah, I know.”
I shrugged dismissively. Of course Mom would keep him up with the play.
“Okay, I’ve gotta fly, Vali,” Paris’s voice cracked and his video jerked as he moved, his sound muffled so I couldn’t hear properly, “...ya.”
And he ended the call before I had a chance to say goodbye properly. I’d sulked after that. Paris didn’t care that I wasn’t coming on the tour. He wouldn’t miss me one bit. It kind of hit me that this was the beginning of the end. That everything was changing. Paris’s career was now becoming a reality. Joining the tour meant he would be traveling extensively, like forty weeks of the year. Traveling cost money, coaching cost money.
There was no room for me on the tour. I’d no longer be included in my brother’s dream.
My heart broke a little but that was overshadowed by a moment of darkness, anger at being left out. I loved Paris, but at the same time, I now loathed him. I wanted him to be successful and everything that came with it, the travel, the free tickets, the fame, meeting famous tennis players, the merchandise perks. But a part of me also wanted him to fail, for Mom and Dad to be mad at him, to resent him for all the effort and time and money they’d plowed into him.
Because that would make me the good child, the glowing child.
I was a horrible person for having such warped thoughts, but I couldn’t let them go.
Mom dropped me to school, still bleating out instructions—you canonly use my car in an emergency, take the trash cart out, be respectful to Dani and help with chores—but I was firmly entrenched in surliness, angry to my core. All morning it had been nothing but demands and commands, the tour the only important thing in their lives. Even Dad had been too busy on a phone call to give me little more than a rushed hug and kiss goodbye.
As soon as the car came to a halt, I opened the door for a fast getaway.
“Valencia?” Mom said as I was about to slam the door.
“What?” I snapped.
Mom looked taken aback, flashing me her dark puppy dog eyes like I’d hurt her. “Honey? You’ve got everything?”
“Yes,” I seethed, while Mom soothed, “Call me anytime. For anything. Okay?”
I nodded with a stone face, annoyed she was holding me up.
