The Rules of Rebellion

by Amity Hope

  By “appalling” she meant “embarrassing.” She would be horrified if the neighbors—or anyone else—found out what I had stashed away in my work space.

  In all fairness, she was probably right. I didn’t think frequenting the local junkyard was a popular pastime for persons of any age.

  But maybe it should be. Too many people tossed things instead of trying to find other uses for them. I happened to have tons of ideas on how to use a whole lot of stuff. If that was wrong, oh well.

  Dad, probably bored with this ongoing conversation, leaned back in his chair. He flashed an optimistic smile. “Excited about the upcoming season?”

  I fidgeted with the unopened granola bar, twirling it around. “Sure.”

  We both knew it was untrue. We’d been playing this game for years. He pretended I had talent. I pretended I actually cared. It gave us something to talk about, even if the conversation was based on a lie.

  As Mom scrambled the eggs and toasted a few slices of sprouted whole-grain bread, Dad rambled on and on about favorable practice schedules and his tried-and-true batting techniques. He tossed out a few thinly veiled digs, telling me how damn proud he was of my brothers. Two of whom had been picked up by college ball teams, while my oldest brother was still trying to bat his way out of the minor leagues.

  I was relieved when Mom started up the blender, cutting Dad off midsentence. I knew from experience the green smoothie she was whipping up looked like death but didn’t taste half bad. Besides, drinking it appeased my dad.

  Of course, as soon as the blender stopped, Dad started up again.

  “Since you won’t be playing college ball,” he began, and I easily read between the lines, filling in the blanks: Since you are a moderate disappointment to me, “this is it for you.” Because as we all know, your skill level falls short. “You really need to make it count. With some effort, you could have a great season.” You have one last chance to prove you aren’t an absolute failure on the field.

  I shrugged, wondering what the point was. I wasn’t going to play college ball, no matter what kind of season I had. And I was totally okay with that. I didn’t see any need to stress myself out trying to have a “great” season, when I’d never had a great season before.

  Baseball wasn’t my passion. Never had been, never would be.

  “I don’t see that happening.” The words seemed to leap from my mouth, surprising all of us. Usually I played his game, went along with whatever he said, because it was easier that way. I surprised us all even more by saying, “In fact, we all know I’d probably make the coach’s day—his whole season—if I dropped from the team altogether.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Dad warned.

  He was right. I probably didn’t have the nerve to do something so impulsive. I didn’t hate baseball. I just didn’t love it. Not the way he, my brothers, and my friends did.

  Dad couldn’t understand that. I mean, he literally could not. He was passionate about the game. Had grown up living, loving, and breathing it. Or at least, breathing the fresh air of the ball field. Unfortunately for him, the winter of his senior year he was in a pretty serious skiing accident. A concussion and a fractured tibia—too close to his last high school season—blasted any chance he had of furthering his career.

  Poor guy had to settle for becoming an oncologist. Never mind that he was one of the best in the state—had saved countless lives. I was pretty sure he’d give it all up in a heartbeat if he could go back in time for his chance to hit the big leagues.

  Now he was living vicariously through his sons. Well, the other three. Definitely not me.

  Mom slid full plates in front of us.

  “Pour me some juice, would you?” Dad asked. He winked at her, as if the request held a hidden meaning.

  I would never understand my parents. Had they always been this bad? Or now that my siblings were gone, was I just noticing it more? Did it matter? Probably not. The yuck factor was the same either way.

  Mom ruffled Dad’s hair as she returned the wink. “Sure thing, babe.”

  Nope, I decided. While they’d always been lovey-dovey, they were definitely getting worse. Maybe by the day. I knew for a fact they were looking forward to having an empty nest. Mom had secured an apartment for me the day I sent in my college acceptance. I was sure she didn’t want to chance me spending another year at home.

  It wasn’t that my parents didn’t love me. I knew they did. I also knew they loved each other more. They’d raised the five of us and now the end was in sight. I was the last of their little birdies to fly away. While some parents might hang on tighter, mine were anxious to see me go.

  The countdown on the kitchen calendar proved it.

  I was pretty sure the fact that I was the biggest disappointment out of their whole brood only made it easier on them.

  Dad jabbed at the air, pointing his fork my way. “You’re not quitting—it’s bad sportsmanship. No son of mine is going to be a quitter.”

  I laughed at that. A quiet, under my breath sort of laugh. We all knew that if I really wanted to do the team a favor, I would quit. Tyler Duvall, a sophomore, was a much better first baseman than I was. Plus, his batting average was impressive. Mine was nothing but laughable.

  “You let Jenna stop playing,” I reminded him.

  “Softball.” Dad scoffed. “She only played softball. Baseball’s not a game for girls.”

  Dad often walked the line of sexism. Every now and again he tripped over it and fell flat on his face. Though he expected nothing less than brilliance on the baseball field from his boys, he’d had to accept that his only daughter had the athletic ability of a hyperactive toddler. After two seasons of softball in middle school, she never tossed around a ball again.

  It was safer for all the windows in our neighborhood that way.

  “It’s not exactly a game for me, either,” I muttered.

  “Oh, Leo.” My mother’s disappointed tone perfectly matched my dad’s disappointed sigh.

  They weren’t the only two looking forward to the day I walked out of here.

  …

  “This is so…yum,” Francesca said with a sigh. She took another nibble of the toffee.

  “Really?” Kylie asked. Her gaze swung to me.

  I nodded. “It’s a ten. I can’t think of a way for you to improve it. It’s not too chewy, but it’s not too brittle, either.” I ignored Adam’s barely concealed laughter. “The slight bitterness of the dark chocolate is the perfect complement. It practically melts in your mouth.”

  Adam lost it, letting his laughter explode. He sucked in a breath. “Ah, Leo, you crack me up. It practically melts in your mouth,” he mimicked.

  His girlfriend, Julia, smacked him on the shoulder. “Mock if you must, but Leo’s totally right.”

  I shrugged when her scolding only made him laugh harder, because really? I didn’t care.

  All I cared about was the way Kylie beamed at the compliment. She let out a little squeak and bounced in her chair. I’d never given her a ten before.

  “You should start a blog,” Julia suggested. “That would be a great way to get exposure.”

  Kylie’s excited smile slipped away. “A blog?”

  Julia nodded. “You know, like a website? You’d share your adventures in the kitchen. Post some photos, some—”

  “Recipes,” Kylie finished for her. She quickly shook her head, her horror obvious.

  “There’s no way she’s going to post her recipes,” I said. Kylie would never go for giving away her secrets. “She’s worked too hard at perfecting them.”

  Kylie nodded, her expression serious. “What he said.”

  Julia laughed. “It was only a suggestion.”

  A hairy arm shot past me, reaching for Kylie’s candy tin. “It’s empty,” Colton grumbled. “Why didn’t you save any for me?”

  “It was too good to share,” Luke said. “Her best yet. Leo gave her a ten.”

  “Leo’s a little suck-up,” Colton gr
umbled.

  “Or maybe it really was that good,” I shot back.

  Ignoring me, he said to Kylie, “You never bring candy twice in one week. What’s going on?”

  “Being in the kitchen clears my head.” Her gaze flicked to me but bounced away just as quickly. Had she needed to clear her head after I cornered her in the parking lot last night?

  I sure had needed to clear mine.

  Walking up to Kylie had been nerve-racking.

  I’d had no idea how she’d react to knowing I’d read her list. When she didn’t completely freak, I’d been able to move forward with the real reason I’d wanted to catch her alone.

  If she was going to tackle the list, I wanted it to be with me.

  I knew in order to win her over, I’d have to spend time with her one-on-one. The list gave me a reason to do that.

  Even though I’d made the offer to help her fill in the blanks, I really had nothing in mind. Actually, that wasn’t true. I had a lot of things in mind. They just weren’t things I thought she’d appreciate.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Maybe with time.

  Colton wiggled his eyebrows at Kylie. “Make me my own batch of whatever this was today, and I’ll invite you to my party tonight.”

  “Go away, Colton,” Julia said. She rarely got impatient with anyone, but it was obvious she wanted him gone. “You’ve already invited all of us.”

  His eyebrows scrunched. “I did?”

  “You did,” I assured him. “A few days ago.” Colton had so many parties he probably lost track of who he invited to which one.

  “Oh, right. See you there.” He wandered away, as if it was a given we’d all show.

  “Not likely,” Julia sing-songed.

  The conversation moved on, but my mind didn’t. When the lunch period ended, I trailed behind Kylie and her friends. When she split from Meg and Francesca to head to her locker, I darted after her.

  “Kylie.”

  She whirled around, slowing down so I could catch up. I wasn’t imagining the smile she shot my way. I only wished it meant more than it did.

  “I was thinking,” I started as I fell into step beside her, “maybe we should go to Colton’s tonight.”

  She looked at me quizzically. I understood her silent question. Neither of us was a big fan of Colton.

  “His party. The list?” I reminded her, keeping my voice low as we swerved through the crowded hallway. “I promised you I’d help you with it. Why not get started?”

  She hesitated, and I immediately backed down, not wanting her to feel pressured into a situation she might not be sure about. Maybe starting with a party wasn’t the best way to go. “We don’t have to. It was only a thought.”

  “No, I know.” She winced, clearly torn. “The whole reason behind the list is for me to live a little. But I would be in so much trouble if I got caught.”

  “Right. Sure.” I nodded, though I could only imagine what it was like to worry about that. Having already raised my four siblings—including my wild and sometimes out of control brothers—my parents hardly gave a second thought to me going to a party. In fact, they’d probably be more concerned about me if I didn’t go to any. “You can think about it and let me know.”

  I hadn’t taken five steps before she called my name. I pivoted in time to see her suck in a deep breath. She gave one quick nod. “Let’s do it. Can we meet after school to make a plan?”

  My grin hijacked my face. “Yeah. Definitely.”

  The warning bell blared, cutting off any further discussion. As I rushed back toward my locker, my smile remained.

  So what if it wasn’t really a date? So what if she had no idea I was totally crushing on her? I was getting the chance to spend a few hours with Kylie, without the constant interruption of our friends.

  And really, for now, that was enough for me, because it was more than I’d ever had before.

  Chapter Five

  Kylie

  The moment Allie’s door clicked closed, I yanked mine open and rushed down the hallway. I knocked once, sort of, then threw her door open and barged in.

  “Hey,” she cried before I managed to fling the door shut again. “Aren’t you always lecturing me on privacy?”

  Yes, yes, I usually was.

  Her best friend, Margo, dropped onto the edge of Allie’s bed. Her feet swinging and her eyes wide, she was probably wondering why I was barging into Allie’s room, instead of her barging into mine.

  “I need help.” Most days, Allie rode to school with me. Most days, I drove her home. Of course, today was one of the rare days she stayed after school with Margo. They walked to Common Grounds, then Mom picked them up on her way home from work.

  I’d been impatiently waiting for them. The past two hours felt like an eternity.

  The desperation in my eyes must have ignited her interest, because her irritation evaporated. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  I dared a glance at Margo, who was still eyeing me with curiosity. I really didn’t want to discuss this in front of her, but knew it would be rude to ask her to leave. Besides, if I did that, Allie would blab to her the minute they were alone again.

  “How did you cover for Lexie?” I demanded.

  She eyed me with rightfully placed suspicion. “Why?”

  “There’s a party tonight at Colton’s house.”

  “From what I’ve heard,” she said, “that’s nothing new.”

  “I want to go.”

  “No way.” She couldn’t have sounded more incredulous if I’d told her I was moving to Vegas to take up pole dancing.

  “I do,” I said in a high, slightly panicked voice. “I don’t know how to pull it off. You said you helped Lexie. Now I need you to help me.”

  “So this is what you were talking about last night!” she exclaimed. “I want to go with.”

  I frowned. This was off to a rocky start. It was bad enough I would be breaking our parents’ rules; I didn’t want to be responsible for dragging my younger sister along with me.

  Maddie had had a rough senior year. In hindsight, our parents decided they should’ve been more involved in her life. They weren’t going to make the same mistake twice. As a result, they’d become experts at helicopter parenting.

  “My mom would kill me if I went to a party,” Margo chimed in. “I think we should go to the movie like we planned.”

  I wanted to hug her.

  Allie gave her friend an imploring look. Margo shook her head.

  “Fine, but next time I will not be left behind,” Allie protested. She turned back to me, wearing a resigned look. “What do you need?”

  “I need a cover story.”

  I couldn’t say I was hanging out with Meg or Francesca. I knew from experience that if Mom couldn’t get ahold of me, she wasn’t shy when it came to trying to track me down through my friends. I didn’t want to put either one of them on the spot, potentially having to lie for me.

  My sister, on the other hand, had done it for Lexie. Because of that, I sort of felt like she owed it to me, too.

  “We’re going out for pizza, then walking down the block to the movie theater for the nine o’clock show. It gets done around eleven. You need to drive us instead of Mom. Tell her you’re going to dinner and the movie with us. When you pick us up, we’ll fill you in on what you missed.”

  I stared at my devious little sister for a moment. “That would work perfectly.”

  She shot me a pointed look. “Yeah, I know.”

  I refrained from crossing the room to smother her in a hug. “Thank you.” I spun around, anxious to get back to my room so I could start getting ready.

  “You know,” Allie said, causing me to pause with my hand on the doorknob, “I expect you to return the favor.”

  I hesitated only for a moment, wanting to argue but knowing it wouldn’t do any good. When Allie had her mind set on something, she wouldn’t budge. I could either ditch my plans for the night, or I could be at the mercy of my little sist
er’s whims.

  “Be ready in an hour,” I said.

  …

  Colton’s party was everything I thought it would be. It was crowded. Too many sweaty bodies, doused in body spray and spilled beverages, created an unappealing scent. The lighting was dim; the music was loud. The party—for the most part—was contained to the basement. Furniture had been shoved aside, creating an impromptu dance floor.

  Somehow, it was exactly what I needed. It felt like the perfect way to kickoff the start of my list. Even though I wasn’t loving the party, I did kind of love the excitement of doing something different, something I’d never done before.

  The noise and the crush of people made it difficult to talk, though Leo did manage to chat with a few guys from his baseball team. He kept his hand wrapped around mine to ensure we wouldn’t get separated. I was grateful for the gesture because this was not my usual crowd. Without Leo by my side, I would’ve been unbearably uncomfortable. But being here with him? It made me feel like I belonged, like I wasn’t completely out of place.

  When he finished talking to Tyler Duvall, the only sophomore on the team, he returned his attention to me. He motioned toward the staircase and I nodded. We trudged up the steps, squeezing to the side a few times to allow other groups to slip by on their way down. It was quieter when we reached the top. A dozen or so people I recognized from school were lingering in the living room.

  My heart stuttered and my footsteps faltered when I spotted James. He was cozied up with Meredith Cooper. Of course he was. Meredith, with her perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect body.

  Leo gave my hand a squeeze, and I realized I’d tugged him to a stop with me. The pair stood right outside the kitchen door, which was apparently where Leo had been headed.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I couldn’t be sure, but I thought his gaze slid toward James. It was as if he knew.

  As Meredith ran her fingers through James’s artfully messy hair, he leaned toward her, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m fine.”

  Leo gave a quick nod, as if he didn’t quite believe me. “I could use some water. How about you?”