Page 28 of The Rebel (Covington Prep: The Girls We Love #7)

“Fast but low,” Paris said.

“Okay,” I said, sounding like a tennis professional. “You like fast courts. They suit your game.”

“Yeah,” Paris said. “It was just different though. There was this echoing sound in the stadium and my shoes were squeaking on the surface and...I don’t know, maybe I freaked a bit.

” His frustration was evident. “Geez, Vali, I should’ve beaten this dude.

His second serve was so slow and I just ended up hitting it into the net every time. ”

“Well, you know what you used to say to me all the time,” I said.

“No. What did I say?” Paris asked flatly, like he had no idea of the words ingrained in my brain.

“You used to tell me to get the ball into play. That I didn’t have to hit a winner straight away. To be patient and wait for the right ball.”

“I told you that?” It was a relief to hear Paris chuckle. “That’s good advice.”

“Yeah. And stick with the game plan.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Paris huffed, “I panicked. And when he started slicing, I tried to slice back. And it would go into the net. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s just the pressure,” I said, vividly recalling how many times I was told tennis was a mental game. Oh, Coach Gardiner said I had all the skills, all the shots, but it wasn’t enough if your head wasn’t in it. “You let it get to you this time, but next time you’ll ace it. You’ll see.”

“Hmmm,” Paris mused. “You’re not wrong—I mentally lost it.”

“Mental toughness is your strength,” I said, bringing out my best accolades. “Hey, Mom said you’re playing a doubles match later. Who’s your partner?”

“A kid called Phillippe from Belgium.”

“Okay, then. Another chance. You got this, Paris.”

Paris sighed and with a hint of sarcasm said, “Thanks for the pep talk, Coach.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How’s it going with the Sinclairs?”

“Fine,” I said, quickly adding, “And Volley is fine too.” Just so he wouldn’t ask anything about Jade. “Hey, good luck. I’m sure you and Phillippe will do great. You better text me later that you won.”

“Let’s hope so. I gotta go. See ya.”

I didn’t like that his enthusiasm had been curbed and was about to ask how Mom and Dad did with his drinks and bananas, but Paris had already hung up.

Paris had been on such a high since his performance at the US Open.

Sure, he’d lost in the second round, but the fact that he’d won his first round in a Grand Slam tournament had been totally unexpected.

Many people disagreed on his Wild Card entry, the invitation allowing him direct entry into the tournament which he wouldn’t have been able to participate in with his current ranking.

There was talk that he wasn’t worthy, that there were other players more deserving.

But Paris had used that negativity to prove to the haters that his selection was justified.

Now, I hoped that he wouldn’t suffer more backlash for this first round loss. The public could be savage to young sports stars who carried both the burden of being a success or a failure. Yeah, equally people could knock you back for your achievements as much as your losses.

Still reeling from Paris’s news, I prayed he could redeem himself in the doubles, but I wished I had someone to talk to.

And when I say someone, I didn’t mean just anyone.

No, more precisely, I wished I could talk to Jade.

He knew Paris in a way that my friends didn’t and would have an understanding of what he was going through.

Going to the cafeteria, I stood in the doorway scanning the room.

I heard my name called out and glanced over to see Kelsey waving her arms, sitting next to Gabby, Scott and the rest of our group.

But it was the brown hair of Jade I was looking for.

The blonde girl with the braid was there, and the girls from the parking lot, but Jade was nowhere in sight.

With Kelsey beckoning me over, I smiled and waved—but left.

I doubted that they’d truly understand what I was going through—not even Gabby.

I did a quick jog through the hallways where the seniors’ lockers were, but didn’t see Jade anywhere.

Deflated, and with the lunch bell ringing, I headed to my locker to get my books before traipsing all the way back across campus to my Spanish class.

By the time I finished my detention, my friends had left for the day and strangely there were no group chats about Chestnut Ridge.

I would check back later, but at last a text came from Dad that Paris had won his doubles with Phillippe.

It was two tough sets, 7-5, 7-5, but it was like part of me could breathe again, knowing he would play tomorrow.

It was only Dani, Oliver and me home for dinner as Jade had gone out with his friends.

I don’t know why that annoyed—and disappointed me—because, of course it was normal that he’d hang out with his friends on the weekend.

After dinner, Oliver and I played video games in the living room while Dani worked on a coloring-in.

After he’d beaten me so many times it was an embarrassment, I was pleased when Dani sent him to bed.

I should have gone to my room to try to figure out what was happening with tomorrow’s trip to Chestnut Ridge or to work on my portfolio, but somehow it didn’t seem right to leave Dani sitting alone.

Who knew when Jade would be coming home?

I wondered what it was like for her to have lost her husband, to have to bring up Jade and Ollie on her own.

I couldn’t imagine Mom being without Dad.

“That looks interesting,” I said, curling my legs under me on the couch.

“Oh?” Dani exclaimed. “My friend gave me this book for Christmas. I just started it.”

I peered across at the detailed picture she was working on. “It looks cool.”

“It’s quite fiddly,” she said, selecting a new pencil. “But it’s kind of calming.”

“Oh, just like drawing,” I said. “You kind of get lost in it.”

“Exactly. I like to keep myself busy while watching tv. I remember doing paint by numbers as a kid,” Dani said with a smile. “Though you’re a bit of an artist, aren’t you?”

“Not really an artist,” I mumbled. “I just take art as a subject.”

Dani’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Kristin’s always saying you have a pencil in your hand?”

“I guess,” I said with a shrug. Probably Mom’s subtle way of explaining why I didn’t play tennis—pass me off as being ‘the arty child.’

“Ollie said you’ve drawn some amazing pictures of Paris,” Dani said.

“I don’t know about amazing,” I said, “but yeah, I spent all winter break watching him play tennis, so there wasn’t much else I could do.” My attempt at a smile became more like a sneer.

“Ooh, art was always my favorite subject at school,” Dani said, giggling as she held up her work to admire it. “Maybe I can frame this?”

I smiled, but it made me wonder how she and Mom were such good friends. Mom was the least arty person in the world and Dani didn’t play tennis, which was Mom’s only reason for living. Maybe being a mom of boys was enough to bond two people.

“Here, why don’t you help me?” Dani said, gesturing me closer.

“Sure.” I moved across and we shared her laptop table, coloring in different sides of the intricate butterfly design.

Working closely together, our conversation flowed, and before I knew it I was opening up about Paris’s loss and how he was down on himself and wading through self doubt.

“That has to be tough for him,” Dani said. “He’s so fiercely competitive, but it’s part of the process, isn’t it? Learning to bounce back after a loss.”

“Yep,” I said. ”But he expects to win every match he plays. So do Mom and Dad.”

“Yes, it’s a lot of pressure,” Dani said, letting out an exasperated sigh before brightening. “But Paris has always had an uncanny drive to push himself, so I’m sure he won’t stay down for long.”

“I hope so,” I said, desperately hoping she was right. My heart still had a wretched ache with the thought of Paris’s whole tennis career falling at the first hurdle.

“And he’s lucky your Mom and Dad are there to support him,” Dani said.

“Yeah,” I conceded with a nod.

Dani drew in a wavering breath. “Your mom was a great support to...me. She’s a strong woman.”

The realization that Dani was referring to the time after her husband’s death hit me out of the blue and my throat seized as I felt the need to acknowledge it.

I couldn’t recall having anything to say to Dani, or Jade or Oliver after Mr. Sinclair’s passing, probably hiding in Mom’s shadow, but it seemed now was the time.

“Oh, I’m sorry about...Mr. Sinclair,” I said, having a momentary blank on his name...Andy, Allan, Aldon?

Dani smiled, but her eyes instantly misted over. “Thanks, sweetie,” she said, squeezing my kneecap lightly.

I didn’t like how I’d inadvertently brought up sad memories and quickly changed the subject. “How come Jade decided to do a student exchange?”

“Ahhh, it was always his dream to go to England, experience the culture,” she said, seeming to relax. “You know he’s a Manchester City fan?”

“I’m learning,” I said, huffing out a laugh as she reached behind her and retrieved a small pillow, shaped like a jersey in the club colors of the soccer team.

“Alex was a mad supporter, now the boys are, especially Jade. And Jade always thought about doing a school exchange.” She paused, clearing her throat. “He didn’t want to leave us, but...I’m glad he went. And he loved every moment of it.”

Dang, I’d made Dani sentimental again. “Uh, sounds like he got to travel around a bit,” I said, hoping I could steer away from the sadness.

“Ooh, yes, he’s got quite the travel bug now. He’d love to see more of the world.”

“Hmmm, me too,” I said, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm. If my parents had been kind and caring, I would’ve been traveling the European circuit with Paris. “I’d like to go to Valencia one day. You know, seeing my parents did name me after the place,” I said.

Dani laughed. “Yeah, it sounds like they owe you a trip there. But I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

“Only if Paris gets better on clay,” I said, having already looked up the tournament there. He lacked experience playing on clay courts and it was one of his plans moving forward to spend more time on the surface.

“Well, you never know,” Dani said, closing the coloring book. “I think we’ve done enough for one night. I think I’ll head off to bed now. Any plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m meeting my friends, so I’ll be away all day,” I said, though it occurred to me my phone hadn’t buzzed all night and I had no idea what the plans were yet.

“Oh. Okay. Well, have a fun day. Just text to let me know when you’ll be home. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Sure,” I said, standing up to stretch. “Uh, Jade’s late?” I remarked in a subtle attempt at extracting information.

“Yes. I guess he’s having a good night,” Dani said with a laugh, but not giving me the details I craved. “And hey, I’m sure Paris will be just fine. You’ll see.” She gave me an affectionate squeeze on my shoulder and I almost leaned into it, missing Mom and Dad for a moment.

Back in my room, I checked the group chat, my heart relieved to see no plans had been made without my input.

Probably we’d organize it all tomorrow. In the meantime, I set out my clothes and lay in bed.

I was thinking about a lot of things, like Paris and whether he’d win his next match and Dani getting sad about her husband—Alex—and my ears were on high alert listening for Jade to come home.

The last time I remembered checking my phone was 11:25, but there was still no sign of him, meaning he must have been having an amazingly fabulous time with his friends.