Rebel on a Holiday

One summer trip. Two teenagers. Four grandmothers. And a little bit of luck.

I don’t know what I like, and a vacation might be what I need to find my own interests. For my high school graduation, I’m gifted a senior tour of Ireland. Except, it’s the wrong kind of senior. In an unlucky mix-up, I end up on a two-week tour for senior citizens. I may be the rebel on a holiday, but I’m not the only teenager. The bag boy working on the tour is my age, but he’s grumpy.

I can’t quite figure Declan out. He seems to be pulling the wool over my eyes and lying about who he is. But I won’t let a little rain and a grouchy boy wreck my holiday. With the help of four meddling grandmothers, I’m determined to not follow anyone else’s path and find what I like. But every sheep filled path I take leads back to Declan, and he seems to be searching for the same thing as me. What do we really like?

Will the luck of the Irish help me during these two weeks or will I end up forever seeking the pot of gold and never finding it?

Travel through Ireland with Chelsey and an unlikely cast of characters. You’ll laugh, think about what you like, and swoon over a sunshine/grumpy romance. After all, it takes sun and rain to make a rainbow. Find the treasure in this YA romcom for all ages. “Rebel on a Holiday” is the fourth book in the “Running on Love & Donuts” series. It follows the first three books but can be read as a standalone.

My bag is not packed. It’s hard to pack when I don’t own a suitcase or know where I’m going. My mom tends to procrastinate until the last minute, and I can only follow. We leave tomorrow, and she won’t tell me where we’re going. With a sigh, I shut the car door and check my texts.
Mom: Hard-sided carryon to fit in overhead compartment. Roller bag with four wheels and the cheapest one they have. Get it even if it’s a kids’ suitcase!!
As I enter the store, my phone rings with a call I’m expecting.
“Hi, Dad,” I answer. “I’m on a mission. Talk fast.”
“Code red or blue?” Dad asks.
“Both.” I speedwalk to the back of the store. “I need to find a carryon to pack everything to avoid extra baggage fees.”
“I would have sent you a suitcase if I knew you needed one,” Dad says. “It’s a little late now. How about I pay the baggage fee?”
“Nope.” I pucker my lips. “This is all Mom. She doesn’t want help.” My parents have been divorced since I was a toddler, and Mom is stubborn. She’s taking me on a surprise two-week vacation for my high school graduation gift and wants to pay for it herself.
“Alright,” Dad concedes. “I’m booking your ticket to come visit me before you start school. Does the itinerary I sent you work?”
“Works for me.”
“Mia is excited you’re coming to visit our new place,” Dad says about my younger half-sister.
“I’m excited too. I miss seeing her.” I scan the aisle signs. Men’s clothes, electronics, movies, books, and there it is…luggage. “This is going to be a challenge.”
“Mia or packing in a carryon?” Dad chuckles.
“Ha.” I glance around. Mia is a feisty preschooler, but I can handle her. I’m not sure about packing for my trip. There are suitcases large enough to fit my body in and backpacks barely big enough for a wallet and snack, but nothing the right size. “Is everyone going on summer vacation? The shelves are empty.”
“Good luck, Muffin,” Dad says.
“I’ll be lucky if I can find a Bluey suitcase,” I say.
“Mia would love it,” Dad says. “You can use it when you visit.”
I end the call with Dad and pocket my phone when I spot a contender at the other end of the aisle. I hurry there as another person rounds the corner. We both reach for the suitcase. Our hands collide and long fingers glide over mine. An electric charge passes through me at the contact. The other person must feel it too because their hand jerks and they move to clasp the handle.
“I’m sorry.” I keep my hand on the top of the suitcase while the person holds the handle. “Did you want this one?”
“Yes.” The deep voice sounds gruff, but young. I lift my eyes to see who I need to fight for the bag.
“Oh.” I draw my lips in. A guy my age stands next to me, and he’s cute, at least from what I can see. He wears a large gray hoodie and covers his face with a dark gray ballcap pulled low. I take my hand off the suitcase and use it to push some hair behind my ear, a nervous habit around cute guys.
“Watch out.” The guy pulls the bag off the shelf and starts to turn.
“Wait!” I’m a little disgusted at myself for my momentary lack of assertiveness. Stupid guy and his good looks. “I need this one. Can you get another one?”
“No.” The guy’s hand tightens on the handle. “I need it.”
“But it’s a kid’s suitcase.” I point at the bright bag in his hand. We’re clearly in the children’s section. Backpacks with animated characters hang from an upper shelf.
“It’s the only one this size,” the guy says with an irritated tone.
“It has pink flowers,” I say. They’re not pastel pink, but a bold pink, nearly fuchsia. There are also some purple flowers with orange centers.
“I don’t care,” the guy grumbles. “I really need this, and I only have a few minutes.”
“There.” I point to a black suitcase across the aisle. “You can get that one.”
The grumpy guy peeks at the price tag and shakes his head. “It costs twice as much. You get it.”
“Fine.” I can’t afford the more expensive bag, but I can brighten this guy’s day. “Take it.”
Without a word, the guy exits faster than someone getting off a plane for ten thousand dollars. I step out to watch him run, hoping I’m not helping the guy to steal items. With the baggie clothing hiding his identity and running through the store, the guy will have security tailing him in no time.
I head to the book aisle, which is conveniently located next to the luggage. Trips and books pair like coffee and donuts. A glance at a billionaire romance book gives me an idea. I text the one person I know who travels a lot lately. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier, because it’ll save money if I borrow a suitcase.
Me: Do you have a hard sided carryon I can borrow, please? Some guy just took the last one at the store.
I think of Grumpy Boy as I wait for a response. He had a dimple in his chin which I noticed right away as the rest of his face was concealed by his hoodie. What reason could he have for buying a pink suitcase and running through the store as if he were on some crazy scavenger hunt?
My phone chimes with a text notification.
Emma: Of course. Come and get it
Me: Can I stop by in about thirty minutes?
Emma: I’m here
Me: Thanks
I cruise the rest of the store to grab a few recommended essentials for travel. My viewing habits lately have been focused on travel influencers. Traveling the world and getting paid to do it seems like a dream. I grab gum, makeup remover wipes, a travel bottle of antiseptic hand gel, and antiseptic wipes for surfaces. I’m not sure what to expect with airplane bathrooms, but I’ve heard horror stories and want to be prepared.
In the self-checkout area, I find Grumpy Boy at a kiosk and smile as I take the one next to him. Grumpy Boy mumbles incoherently as he flips a blue t-shirt over and over in his hand.
“Where?” he mumbles agitatedly.
I pinch my lips together and wait to see if he can locate the tag before I try to help. He finds it after I scan two of my items, which is a good thing, because he doesn’t look in the mood to appreciate help.
Grumpy Boy hoists the pink suitcase up and tries to scan the tag.
“No!” Grumpy Boy’s machine beeps twice.
I pinch away a smile as I scan my last item. I’m not happy he’s having trouble, but it’s a rather satisfying sight after he took the last suitcase. Plus, he’s cute.
Grumpy Boy waves down the sales associate as I tap my debit card to the screen.
“This rang up twice,” Grumpy Boy says in a gruff voice to the employee.
“I can help you with that.” The woman swipes a tag across the scanner.
“I’m in a hurry.” Grumpy Boy taps his foot in irritation and looks at his phone.
I place my items in a reusable bag and shake my head at Grumpy Boy’s rudeness. He’s the one causing himself to run late, not the employee.
“Is that all?” the associate asks as she helps Grumpy Boy bring up his total.
“Yes,” Grumpy Boy says in a short voice.
I watch from the corner of my eye and take my time gathering up my bag. My eyes widen when Grumpy Boy pulls a hundred-dollar bill out of his pocket. I’ve never seen an actual hundred-dollar bill. Not even Emma’s billionaire boyfriend carries around bills that large.
“Um…” Grumpy Boy looks around, unsure what to do next. I’m not even sure if he can give the self-checkout machine a large bill and the sales associate is busy helping another customer.
“Just my luck.” Grumpy Boy groans and digs through the stuff he rang up as I slowly walk behind him. A quick peek at the screen gives me a clue to his current grumpiness. His total is $101.82, and he only has the hundred-dollar bill.
A huge slug of sympathy hits me. I know what it’s like to be in his place…short on money and time. I dig in my purse as Grumpy Boy furiously types on his phone.
“Here.” I thrust two one-dollar bills in front of Grumpy Boy.
“Huh?” Grumpy Boy tilts his chin my way.
“Are you short?” I ask.
“No.” Grumpy Boy stands up straight. “I’m taller than you.”
I chuckle and point at the total on the screen. “I meant with your bill.”
“I…” Grumpy Boy looks at his phone and frowns. “I’m only supposed to spend a hundred.”
“Just take it.” I wave the bills at Grumpy Boy.
“I can’t.” He shakes his head. “Someone will find out.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” I wrinkle my nose at this strange exchange. “You either have to put something back or take the two dollars. It’s not much.”
Grumpy Boy looks around cautiously, as if he’s being watched. Hesitantly, he reaches out and takes the money. Our fingers touch and Grumpy Boy tilts his head. I get a good look at his eyes which have been hidden under the bill of his hat. They’re a pale blue color, like the blue of the sky before rain blows in.
“I won’t be able to pay you back.” Grumpy Boy’s voice is rough, either from being moved by my generosity or he swallowed a frog. “I’m leaving.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “You can pay it forward sometime.”
“There has to be more to this.” Grumpy Boy holds the dollar bills as if they’re dirty. “What do you want?”
“I’m just helping,” I reply. “I know what it’s like to be a few dollars short.”
“No one helps without wanting something in return.” Grumpy Boy tilts his head down and keeps talking in his gruff voice. “Are you going to come after me later?”
“I don’t know you.” I push my hair behind my ear. He may be cute with eyes I can swim in, but he’s a little too grouchy. “We’ll probably never see each other again. Enjoy your new suitcase and have a good day.”
I clutch my bag, swivel, and head out the door in a mic drop fashion. Grumpy Boy can have the suitcase and I can have the last word. As I sit in the car in the parking lot, I notice Grumpy Boy walk out dragging the suitcase behind him and wonder why he’s so grumpy. A dark car idles in front of the store and Grumpy Boy whips open the rear door. He tosses the suitcase in and the door slams behind him. The car carrying Grumpy Boy turns out of the parking lot and disappears.
“See ya,” I say to the boy and two dollars I’ll never see again. I hope I brightened his day a bit.