Page 29 of The Rebel
“Paris.”
“Yeah, Paris.”
“Paris,” she said again.
I laughed, “Like you meaninParis?”
“Yep. Or just outside it. It’s an indoor tournament.”
“Paris is awesome,” I said, “the city, I mean.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Yeah, I got to travel a bit.”
“Where else did you go?” she asked.
“Berlin, Copenhagen, Barcelona, Amsterdam. And I went to Wales and up to Scotland.”
“What was your favorite place?”
“Ah, I really liked London and Barcelona.”
“Well, London might be okay, but I wouldn’t recommend calling your kid Barcelona.”
“Huh?” I threw her a curious look.
“Paris and I got named after Mom and Dad’s favorite cities. And look where that got me.” She tapped her fists together and muttered in outrage, “Mrs. Fox called me Valen-cha!”
I grinned. “Hey, I know your pain. You wouldn’t believe the number of times I’ve been called Jay. People think Jade is a girl’s name.”
“See, that’s just rude,” she said with a frown. “I like the name Jade. And it matches your eyes.”
A warm, fuzzy feeling came over me knowing that Valencia had noticed the color of my eyes. Wow, talk about clutching at straws—seemed I was desperate to make an impression on her—even if it was my eye color that had caught her eye. It was ridiculous that I’d traveled across the world, gone to a school in another country and met so many awesome people, yet nothing compared to the girl next door complimenting me on my name and eye color.
I kept the conversation to Paris and his tennis for the rest of the ride home. That was a safe topic while I tried to understand that buzz, that high coursing through me. Valencia waited while I grabbed my backpack from the backseat and followed me into the house.
“Do you need a tour?” I asked, putting on an English accent and adding a grand gesture like I was a butler. I’d been invited to the house of one of the boys in my class, and though it looked like an ordinary old building on the outside, inside it had been crazy opulent, like the Downton Abbey show, complete with a butler who took my jacket—or house manager as William had called him—and a housekeeper who served us food.
“I should go and feed Volley first,” she said.
“You don’t want a snack?” She shook her head, which brought me back to earth with a thud. She liked my name, myeyes were green and that was all. I’d read too much into it. “Or to see your room?”
“Ah, yeah,” she said, “I should see where I’m staying, shouldn’t I?”
“Follow me.” I did that butler thing again—who knows why—pointing down the hallway. And because I’d started it, I kept it going. “To the right, m’lady.” Geez, I needed to remember I was back home. She was going to think I was showing off or something. I cringed as I remembered what I’d said earlier,“Oh I’ve been to Paris and Berlin and Amsterdam and Copenhagen.”What a jerk!
A red suitcase and a white duffel bag were next to the bed. I opened the closet doors, pointing out the storage, and then to the ensuite door. “And that’s your bathroom.”
“Cool,” she said, her eyes tracking around the room. Basically it was still a bland room, but now with a white cover and bright fluffy pillows on the bed. “Thanks. I’ll go and feed Volley now.”
Not bothering to unpack, she spun around and headed out the door, her backpack still on her shoulders. I thought about offering to go with her but was left in her dust. The front door closed and I moved across to the window, standing in the shadow of the curtains to see her walking down the path which led to the garden. Our backyard was a big space of lawn and flower beds and beyond that an orchard of established apple and pear trees. Mom and Dad had added some peach and persimmon trees and a small greenhouse for growing vegetables. I don’t know if anything was growing in it now.
Valencia jogged across the lawn and disappeared from my view. There was a fence she’d have to climb over into her yard and I cursed myself for not going with her. She could trip out there, fall on the slippery grass or tumble over the fence. He who hesitates...isn’t that what they say? If I went after her now, she’d think it was strange, or that I was strange.
Instead of doing my homework in my bedroom, I took my laptop into the living room. It overlooked the patio and the backyard, which meant I’d see Valencia returning.
But how long did it take to feed a cat?
