Page 74 of The Rebel
Principal Portman was going through the latest news and notices. “We had three bands competing for a spot in the upcoming School Jazz Festival,” he said. “Let’s welcome on stage Jivin’ Alive, Ben’s Buttons and The Macklin Pelzer Duet.”
Gabby and Scott sashayed up onto the stage, making me wonder when Jonathan had been axed from the band. Four seniors who made up Jivin’ Alive stood to the side while Gabby and Scott took center stage, with the three members of Ben’s Buttons huddled behind them.
There was a round of applause for all the students as Principal Portman spouted on about the festival. Snippets of each band was shown on the screen and we all clapped.
“Congratulations to all the bands, but the one representing Covington Prep will be...drumroll...” Principal Porter gestured to all the band members to pretend to play the drums, “...Jivin’ Alive.”
There was more applause as they shook Principal Porter’s hand, but my eyes were glued to Gabby and Scott. Both lookedlike they were sucking on lemons, walking down the steps like they’d been cheated on, all doom and gloom. Usually when Gabby was despondent about something, I’d be the first to comfort her.
As they returned to their seats, I could see Scott still scowling and whispering in Gabby’s ear. Gabby’s body stiffened, holding her arms taut, her body visibly leaning away from Scott.
And despite the way she’d treated me these few weeks, I wanted to reach out to her. Rejection and disappointment—that’s when you needed your friends the most, and I couldn’t believe our friendship had run its course—game, set and match, over. After all, tennis always gave you a second chance, that’s how the scoring system worked. If your first serve missed, no worries, you had a second one. You could lose an entire set and not be out of the game. Even if you were one point away from defeat, you could claw your way back into the match. If tennis could give you second chances, maybe I could try again with Gabby.
My thoughts were disrupted when Kelsey nudged me. Miss Creighton was called to the stage to announce the students selected for the art exhibition. There were plenty of accomplished artists, especially in senior year, so I hadn’t wasted any time hoping for the impossible.
Besides, because I’d been short on time, I’d had to include my sketches of Paris in my portfolio, mainly from the recent Florida training camp, but two were way back from the US Open. Mom wondered how I could concentrate on sketching when Paris was playing onCenter Court at Flushing Meadows,but when you’re sitting down for hours upon end—the five set match was 3 hours 47 minutes long—sketching was a way to stay focused. Plus, it meant I never got as nervy as Mom or Dad.
Kelsey showed me her crossed fingers and I flashed a sedate smile, tempering my enthusiasm, though my heartbeat refusedto slow. Kelsey had said my drawings were good, so did Ollie and that random girl in study hall, but they were hardly art experts.
I heard Miss Creighton call Solomon Nidri’s name. He was a talented senior who had his own website, so his selection wasn’t a surprise. Next thing, Kelsey was poking me, shaking me and pushing me to stand.
Miss Creighton’s head was bobbing, saying, “Valencia, where are you?”
Somehow my feet made their way down the center aisle, my biggest fear not about being on stage in front of the whole school, but worrying that Principal Portman would reprimand me for a crooked tie or wearing too much eyeliner. Miss Creighton shook my hand and I stood beside Solomon in a daze. Solomon turned to look at the wall behind us, and only then did I register Miss Creighton’s commentary on Solomon’s paintings which were displayed on the giant screen. I clapped politely, my heart beat accelerating as reality set in—my art was going to be in the exhibition, displayed in a gallery for all to see.My art!And then Miss Creighton was talking about my pictures of Paris, looming large as life. For a second, I didn’t recognize it as my own work—it looked incredible, Paris looked incredible. I broke out in goosebumps knowing the applause ringing out around the auditorium was for me—or rather my drawings.
“And many of you will remember that Paris was a member of our school community before his tennis success,” Principal Portman said. “Valencia, you’ve done a fabulous job in capturing your brother in action in these pictures. And your work has deservedly been selected for the exhibition. Congratulations.”
“Oh, excuse me, Principal Portman,” Miss Creighton chimed in again. “Can I make special mention of Valencia’s contribution to the making of the icicle decorations for the freshman/sophomore winter dance. She did an outstanding job, volunteering her time to make close to five hundred icicles.”
I nodded, dipping my head as my cheeks flushed, probably the reddest shade of scarlet known to mankind. I wasn’t used to the attention. That was Paris’s domain. He reveled in the limelight, but for me it was a relief when the kids from the Math Olympiad were called up and I could get off the stage.
I scuttled back to my seat as quickly as I could, catching Gabby’s eye as I took my row, a half smile on her lips. I attempted to smile back but Aaron slapped my back in congratulations and pulled me down.
My friends and students from my art class herded me out of the auditorium like I was some sort of celebrity, much like the way Paris had been surrounded by security guards and tournament managers when he’d entered and exited the center court stadium.
As we headed toward our classrooms, a hand grabbed my shoulder. Thinking it was Aaron about to jump on me, l writhed from the grip, about to joust him back, only to see Jade smiling at me.
“Hey, Valencia, congrats,” he said in a casual way.
“Oh...thanks,” I said awkwardly, well aware that Kelsey, Aaron and Jazmyn had stopped and were staring. “Uh, it was a bit of a shock.”
“Awesome drawings. You’re really talented.”
The capillaries in my cheeks were dilating again, burning hot at the glowing compliment.
You see, it had been three days since Jade and I had kissed in the art room and even though he’d talked about living life to the full, sensibly we were taking things slow. In other words, we hadn’t kissed again. With his grandparents visiting over the weekend for his father’s birthday, emotions had been high, so we’d mutually kept ourselves in the friend zone, our only physical contact a high five when Man City won their game 3-0.
“Thanks,” I replied with closed lips and a tight smile. Jade winked before sauntering off down the hallway.
Kelsey bounced on her toes and shook my shoulder, mouthing, “He just winked at you!”
“What? Did he?” I mumbled, head down to inspect the flooring.
Jazmyn twisted my elbow, literally making me yelp. But she was unapologetic. “I think Jade likes you,” she teased. “He was looking at you all swoony.”
Right then I wanted the janitor’s newly polished floor to swallow me up. My face could not get any hotter or redder and any minute now I might be added to one of the few apparent cases of spontaneous human combustion.
“Hey,” Aaron said, unkindly stating the obvious, “are youembarrassed, Valencia? You’re all red!”
