Page 89 of The Rebel
It was Mom who got the ball rolling with this trip. Yeah, I’d been missing Valencia like crazy, even with the daily video calls. It hadn’t seemed possible that someone who’d been in your life such a short time could have such an effect on you. It was different from missing Dad, the deep loss that sent you reeling from the impossibility that you would never see that person again, or from missing Gramma and Pops, a gaping hole of sadness. This was a constant fluttering in my heart, a yearning of excitement, the anticipation of seeing her again.
Yeah, three weeks was seeming like forever.
Mom’s suggestion had been nothing short of amazing. She’d been looking over the dates of Spring Break, studying the Premier League match fixtures, checking flights and making a lot of phone calls. She was talking to Gramma and Pops and Kristin Reid and applying for a passport for Oliver.
And her spectacular plan was transpiring right now—our flight landing in London, and I was less than an hour away from seeing Valencia. And her whole family.
Valencia’s arrival coincided with Paris’s return to form. He made it all the way to the final in London and beat his opponent in a convincing 6-1, 6-3 victory, and had made it to the final in the next two tournaments in Portugal and Spain. He’d won in Portugal and gotten to the final in Spain but lost in a three set thriller. It was a shame we hadn’t seen the match, but Valenciasaid he’d played great, and Paris’s motivation was high now, restored by his sister’s presence.
But he is desperately in need of a break and that’s why we are going to join the Reids for a few days. Yep, all nine of us together, traveling in a minibus around the English countryside and the icing on the cake—tickets to the Manchester City vs Aston Villa match in Manchester.
It’s what I’m most excited for, taking Valencia to a game. Well, Mom and Ollie and Gramma and Pops, too. Oh and the Reids, though they’re not massive soccer fans—yeah the British call it football—but there’s no way they won’t enjoy the experience.
Paris has to get back to Florida for training, and Mr. Reid is going back with him, but Gramma and Pops are flying us to Finland for a week, and Valencia and Kristin are coming too. And Uncle Stanley and Aunty Nina are meeting us there.
It’s a bit of a story. When Dad was a little boy, he always wanted to go to Santa’s Village in Lapland. Of course, Gramma and Pops promised that they would go there one day. But back then, when Dad and Uncle Stanley were little kids, Pops was working hard on his compostable packaging business, and there wasn’t a lot of money to take vacations and certainly not to Scandinavia. And as Dad got older, the dream was forgotten, though he always loved the Christmas traditions of advent calendars and gifts and stockings and leaving food for Santa and his reindeer.
But Gramma has never forgotten. And though it’s too late for Dad, it isn’t for the rest of us. We’re going to live the dream for him.
Oliver is fizzing with excitement as we stand and gather our bags ready to disembark the plane. “You’re gonna see Vali soon,” he says.
“Yep, can’t wait,” I say.
“Are you going to be all kissy kissy with her?”
“Maybe,” I say, smiling across to Mom who is checking the passports for the tenth time. “You ready?”
“Yes,” Mom says, putting her bag over her shoulder. “We got this, boys. We’re going to have a blast.”
“Yeah, we are,” I say, inserting myself between them, protectively placing my arms around them. I’ll never replace my Dad, but I intend to keep my word. I’ll always be there for Mom and Ollie.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say and I lead my family out, the perks of being in business class is that you exit the plane first.
You see, I’m kind of in a hurry because I’m about to see Valencia again. And that sets my heart on fire, adrenaline racing through my veins, my nerves jumping on high alert.
With the luggage cart loaded with our suitcases, I leave it in Ollie’s capable hands as I spot my girl. I’m impulsive, I’m a little crazy, I’m darting between people who are walking too slowly.
I ignore the direction of the queue barrier and instead of following it, I leap over it like I’m an Olympic high jumper, blatant disregard for the orderly travelers making their way out.
“Hey,” I say, presenting myself in front of her.
Her eyes are shining, her smile is glorious and there’s a flutter in my chest. “Hey, you,” she says. “Did you just jump over the barrier, Jade Sinclair?”
“What barrier?” I tease as I take her in my arms and pull her close, eyes locked right until I bring my lips to hers and am immersed in her scent, her warmth, her sweet touch. And I’m instantly swept up in a wave where the rest of the world is forgotten.
I mean, yeah, we’re in one of the busiest airports on the planet, and my family is somewhere catching me up, and I think I saw Mrs. Reid, but I’m not really sure. Because in themoment it’s just the two of us, and I’m reacquainting myself with Valencia’s soft lips, her dark, wavy hair and her fruity fragrance.
A squeal is what separates us, and I open my eyes to see Mom and Mrs. Reid rushing into an embrace and that’s when I spot Paris standing behind Valencia.
“Hey,” I say, overcome with nervousness. Paris is taller than me now, several inches taller and I just kissed his sister in front of him. Well, the whole airport. “How’s it going?”
Paris is eyeballing me and my knees are weakening because maybe I should have been a bit more subtle with the kiss, and it takes a second before he grins and says, “It’s going good.”
But then I realize Valencia is clutching my arm and she reaches up to me, about to whisper in my ear. Maybe how much she missed me, how ecstatic she is to see me, her undying love.
I anticipate her words, “Jade?”
“Yes, I love you too,” I say, keen to declare it first.
