Page 2 of The Rebel (Covington Prep: The Girls We Love #7)
VALENCIA
Valencia is a town in southeastern Spain, a place Mom and Dad visited on their honeymoon. It was one of their favorite places, right along with Paris. Paris and I used to joke that it was lucky they didn’t love Brussels and Antwerp. Our lives could’ve been a disaster if they had.
Something changed after that. Tennis wasn’t fun if I didn’t play with Paris, and the random boy I got paired up for the mixed doubles—his name was Andrew—was rude to me when I missed a shot or served a double fault. When we lost, he threw his racket down and shouted that I was useless.
When I came off the court crying, I was scolded for my tears, in contrast to Paris who only got sympathy. I was told I shouldn’t cry after losing—that it was the ultimate in poor sportsmanship. Talk about double standards! That same afternoon, I lost my singles match without winning a game.
I told Mom and Dad that I hated tennis and didn’t want to play anymore. Of course that was out of the question—I couldn’t quit tennis, it was in my blood, my DNA. Tennis was life, according to Mom!
In the next three tournaments, I was knocked out in the first round.
Yes, I may have purposely sabotaged my own matches, hitting every ball as hard as I could, like it was a cannon firing, having no regard for all I’d been taught about tactics and placement and patience.
I lost the will to compete and win and basically went through each match as quickly as I could, without trying, which was totally against the spirit of the sport.
Mom, especially, was disappointed, well more than disappointed. I was a let down, a failure. Arguments ensued for months as I was forced to continue with my coaching lessons, grudgingly attending, performing badly, moody and volatile at every training.
It was Dad who suggested I take a break, and as horrified as Mom was that I would never become the next tennis sensation, Coach Gardiner relegated me to the social group where I would no longer have to play tournaments.
He recommended that they concentrate on Paris—he who had the potential for stardom, who could go far in the sport, who hated losing with a passion.
I was relieved that I didn’t have to play competitively, but as Paris won more trophies and got all the attention, I sometimes regretted that I was now a spectator, reduced to sitting on the sidelines.
“Valencia!” Mom’s shrill voice pierced the whole house. “Bring your laundry down. NOW!”
It was bewildering what the urgency was, but I opened my suitcase and dumped a heap of clothes onto the floor and shoved the rest into my closet and drawers.
I picked up the bag of souvenirs and sorted all the gifts for my friends.
As well as candy for everyone, I’d bought Gabby a Florida mug, a shell bracelet and a cute Key Lime Pie keychain that was perfect for her.
Gabby was a budding baker and made the best pies and brownies.
For Jazmyn and Kelsey, I got cute Florida tanks, and for Scott, I bought a pair of alligator socks, bright and garish, but he had a thing about wearing funky socks that didn’t match.
One sock might be black, the other white, or one might be spotted, one striped, one with pizza slices, the other with ice cream.
Scott was unique that way, and that’s why I liked him so much, well, secretly liked him.
He was new to our friend group this year, and at the Halloween Party he’d held my hand as we walked through the Pearson’s ‘Haunted Basement,’ and at the Thanksgiving Parade as we weaved our way through the crowded street.
Since then, I’d been looking at him in a different way.
Okay, yes...I’d been crushing on Scott Macklin, and now my heart pitter pattered whenever I saw him. Or even thought about him.
I’d been hoping that something might come of it over winter break, but thanks to my family who only cared about Paris and his tennis, I was away on vacation.
And while I’d had to sit and watch a three hour tennis match, I missed Gabby’s birthday party.
She did send me a video compilation of her day, the cooking class where they’d made artisan pizzas and salted caramel truffle balls, the escape room, and then games night and hot cocoa.
I checked my phone again. Still nothing from Gabby. I messaged the group chat, a generic text to say I was glad to be home and out of the blistering Florida heat. Within seconds I had replies from Jazmyn, Aaron, Kelsey and Jonathan, but Gabby, Reina and Scott had yet to see it.
Anticipating Mom would blow her top if I didn’t get my laundry out, I gathered my clothes and took them downstairs.
Of course my clothes couldn’t be washed straight away because Mom had put her load on, but that was all part of my mother’s need to exert control.
Everything had to be precise, ordered, in place at all times.
That’s how she operated. You couldn’t leave your clothes upstairs in your hamper, oh no, they had to be in the laundry room right now.
Mom glanced up with an appreciative nod and pointed to the coffee pot, but continued working on her laptop. Dad was pacing around the dining table talking on his phone.
With my hamper deposited in the laundry room, I checked my messages again. So strange that Gabby wasn’t glued to her phone, but maybe she was at the movies or at her Grandma’s house, though it was odd that she hadn’t told me about that. Earlier this morning she’d been screaming about my return.
Deflated, I sat at the breakfast bar and poured myself a coffee. Mom and Dad didn’t want to take me sledding and my best friend wasn’t answering my texts. Maybe she was about to come over? Surprise me? That would be a totally Gabby thing to do.
“I’m going sledding later. Dad said I can take your car.”
Mom’s eyes popped. “He did? But I’m going around to Dani’s.”
“Well, you can walk, can’t you?” I snapped, suddenly losing it.
The Sinclairs’ house was directly behind ours. You had to go past our tennis court, across the lawn and climb the fence, and then through the Sinclairs’ backyard orchard—Dad had constructed a box step to make it easy access for the two families—but it only took a few minutes.
“I need to stop at the grocery store as well,” Mom said. “Why don’t you come? You can go sledding tomorrow.”
“No thanks,” I said, harsher than I intended. But not hearing from Gabby had stressed me out, and going visiting with Mom was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Okay. I just asked,” Mom replied as if I’d offended her. “I think Jade is back from his trip.”
I scowled, my lips pouting. Jade was Paris’s friend, not mine, so I didn’t care that he was back. This wasn’t the homecoming I’d envisioned. Gabby was supposedly madly waiting my return, yet I hadn’t heard from her, and now Mom wasn’t letting me use her car.
My phone vibrated and I snatched it up, seeing a message from Jazmyn. As if she’d read my mind, her text read: Come sledding, everyone’s there, I’m about to go, can pick you up
That explained why I hadn’t heard from Gabby. I quickly texted back: Yep, I’ll be ready!
“Jazmyn’s coming to get me,” I said, sending a piercing glare to Mom as I left the room, not waiting to hear her response.
I dressed in my cutest ski jacket, a purple and black one, hoping it might impress Scott. There wasn’t much time to do anything to my hair, but I pulled on a matching purple beanie and reapplied my eyeliner, adding a splash of strawberry lip gloss—well, a girl could dream.
Mom had gone when I came downstairs. My car issues would be resolved in summer when I’d get my own car for the start of senior year.
It was when Mom got her first car, so apparently I had to follow the tradition.
In the meantime, I had limited access to her car or had to ride with my friends.
Though riding with Jazmyn might be a good thing—maybe Scott would give me a ride home.
Yes, that opportunity might arise so I needed to be ready for it.
Oak Brook Hill was a community park in River Valley which included several playgrounds, a running trail, a soccer field and basketball courts.
To the west of the park, the land rose sharply to make one of the best sled hills in the district.
As expected, it was busy in the late afternoon.
As Jazmyn and I dragged our sleds up the hill, my eyes immediately spotted Gabby in her mustard yellow jacket at the top.
She was lined up next to Scott, wearing a fluorescent green beanie and a red and white checkered jacket.
I waved madly as I increased my pace, hoping I might get up in time to sled down with them.
But neither of them saw me and they set off down the hill.
Jazmyn and I hurried so that we could meet them at the bottom.
“Hey, Vali!” I was greeted by Reina and Aaron who waited for us to join them.
“Let’s go,” I said, sitting on my sled, my thighs burning from the jog up. I was keen to get down the hill.
The chill of the air was refreshing and we let out a customary shriek as we gained momentum.
Reina spun around and toppled over but the rest of us kept going.
The thrill of sliding down the hill never got old and at the bottom I got a face full of ice.
As I came to a stop, I momentarily forgot about Gabby and Scott.
“Valenciaaaaaa!” My name was a full on squeal as Gabby dashed over to me. Leaping up from my sled, we embraced, jumping up and down like overexcited middle graders. “Oh, I missed you, I’ve got so much to tell you,” she gushed.
“Same,” I said, my heart bursting with happiness. With our arms around each other, and to avoid the sledders, we made our way over to the path. I glanced around, giving a shy little wave to Scott who followed us.
We jabbered nonstop all the way up to the top, about my newfound allergy to crab, Paris’s new coach, the fishing trip. She couldn’t wait to take me for a drive in her new car.