Page 43 of The Rebel (Covington Prep: The Girls We Love #7)

“A figment of my imagination,” I said, squeezing his bicep. “Because my proportions were obviously not correct.”

Of course Paris pushed up the sleeve of his t-shirt and flexed his bulging muscle for me.

“Oh, about as big as Jade’s,” I said nonchalantly, or was that carelessly?

“Huh?” Paris grunted.

Now Dad was looking at me sideways. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Jade in as many minutes. And how do you know how big his biceps are?”

My cheeks were heating up like a thermo nuclear reactor.

“Uh, well, you know, the Sinclairs have a home gym. In the house,” I said as if that was common knowledge and nothing to do with being held by Jade’s big strong arms. In sheer panic, I changed the subject.

“Ahh, I thought Volley had run away, he was lost and I couldn’t find him anywhere.

He wasn’t coming when I called him. Jade and Oliver had to come help me look for him. ”

Gah, there I was again, mentioning Jade, but at least in my ramble I did include Oliver. I hoped Dad noticed that.

“What? Well, where was he? He wasn’t hurt, was he?” Paris was almost beside himself with worry.

“No, he was just locked in the garage,” I said.

“How did he get into the garage?” Mom asked.

“I came home from school...” I started to say before realizing that if I kept talking I was going to incriminate myself—the car was only to be used in emergencies, not on an everyday basis to get to school.

“What were you doing in the garage?” Mom’s sharp ears didn’t miss a thing, “There hasn’t been a—”

“Was he stuck in there all day?” Paris butted in. “While you were at school?”

“No, not, no—” I needed another diversion, but my brain was scrambled.

“So what were you getting in the garage?” Mom pressed.

“What?” I said, pretending to be super engrossed in measuring out a tablespoon of raisins into Paris’s oatmeal. “Hey, what fresh fruit do you have? Any blueberries?”

Paris shook his head and sneered in Mom and Dad’s direction. “No, there’s no blueberries.”

“That’s so slack. I need to write a shopping list of what you need,” I said.

“So is Volley somehow opening the door to the garage? Letting himself in there?” Mom didn’t seem to be able to let it go.

I scowled at her and ignored her stupid question, my attention on Paris. “Has the food generally been okay?”

“Not too bad,” he said. “French food was nice. We had this delicious bread, a baguette, really yum.”

Mom and Dad were chuckling together. With my fingertips, I sprinkled a dash of cinnamon on Paris’s bowl. Not only did cinnamon add flavor and smell good, it had anti-inflammatory properties which could help with recovery. I was impressed that they’d remembered to buy some.

“I’m going to have to zap this in the microwave,” I said, “but I’ll soak some overnight for tomorrow.”

“Awesome,” Paris said, giving me a knuckle bump.

“I’m glad you’re here, Vali.” Funny how my brother’s words meant so much.

The guilt of every negative thought, every bad wish aimed at my brother rolled over me—at times I’d been a horrible sister, not outwardly, but inside, in my heart where I’d resented and downright loathed Paris for all his success and attention.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” I whispered.

“I still feel like I need to get to the mystery of how Volley got locked in the garage,” Mom said, interrupting the sibling moment.

“Yes, I’m curious, too,” Dad said.

Paris shook his head, “What’s up with you two? What are you on about?”

“Valencia?” Mom said my name in a slightly menacing lilt.

“Poppet seems to forget we have security cameras...” Dad said. I gasped.

“Were you going to tell us you were driving to school everyday? Didn’t we say for emergencies only?” Mom said.

“Well, well...isn’t getting to school on time an emergency?” I retaliated, my rage boiling. “And if you knew I was, why didn’t you say something about it?”

“And is there anything else you need to tell us? Any other news we should know about?” Mom’s voice was her usual sergeant major, but there was a flutter in her eyes, almost a twinkle, like she wasn’t really angry, but riling me up.

“What news?” I said warily, unsure if they were referring to the time I skipped Mrs. Fox’s class, Miss Creighton’s detention, or Vice Principal’s complaint about my overuse of makeup.

“Ahh, Poppet,” Dad said, snuggling up to me as I turned my attention to the timer on the microwave. “You forget that Mom and Dani are best friends...”

My heart literally stopped beating. Now I wasn’t ever not going to tell Mom and Dad about Jade, but I hadn’t yet decided how I would mention it. But to find Mom and Dani had been gossiping about us already...that was a heart-stopper.

My throat was suddenly tight and the beeping of the microwave stopped, leaving a silence, a painfully awkward silence.

“What? Huh?” Paris said cluelessly.

I opened the microwave door and stabbed my finger in the oats to test the temperature.

“Good enough,” I said, handing the bowl to Paris, though it probably could have had an extra fifteen seconds.

Mom’s smug little smile was infuriating—she stared at me with sappy eyes and simpering lips.

“What!” I shouted. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Mom and Dad started laughing like complete juveniles.

“Such a firecracker,” Dad said, patting the top of my head. “Full of spark.”

“Who would have thought? Huh? You and Jade? Awww!” Mom crooned in a lovey-dovey voice.

“Hey what?” Paris nearly choked on his spoonful of oats. “ Who and Jade?”

“Your little sis and Jade apparently...”

I cut off Mom right there, my heart thumping in my chest like it was about to break my ribs. “We only had one date and that was in the airport cafe waiting for the flight. He gave me a ride to the airport.”

Mom pushed in, moving Dad aside so she could put her arm around me. “I’m so proud of you.”

“For going on a date?” I asked with a note of cynicism.

Mom let out a frustrated sigh. “Gah, Vali. For your great artwork—that you never let us see. For taking care of your brother, for knowing exactly what he needs.”

“Oh,” I gulped.

“For being you,” Mom said with a rough sort of softness which immediately set my lower lip quivering.

“For being me?” I wanted to shrug her off for saying such ridiculous things, but I also loved being in her hug, inhaling her scent, snuggling next to her.

“Yes, you keep us grounded, you keep me grounded. I know you put up with a lot, that you miss out on your own things because of tennis. It’s not easy for you, and we always want to do the right thing for you too, sweetheart.”

I was squeezed tighter as Paris joined the group hug. “Jade, huh? Just wait till I see him again?”

“No!” I said, pushing him away. “No, you won’t say anything, Paris. Just hurry and eat your breakfast! Haven’t you got a tennis match to win today?”

My brother locked eyes with me and he grinned. “Yeah, we have ,” he said, and he put his hand up for a high five. Mom and Dad joined in too, but it was a spectacular fail, hands missing.

But the Reid family was back together—and that was all that mattered.