Page 37 of Sing For Me

“She’s a real person,” Will says, rolling his eyes. He shoots me an apologetic look. “You’d think after years of watching people treat our dads like this, she’d learn to be a little more chill.”

I find that I’m grinning, both at the excited girl—who really couldn’t be cuter—and at her bossy, protective big cousin. “She’s fine,” I tell him.

Santana pulls away from him. “Can I have an autograph?” she asks. “Or maybe a picture? Oh my God, I woulddieif I could take a picture with you.”

“Jesus,” Will mutters. “You know, this kind of thing is the reason the little kids aren’t allowed to come to the gala. Maybe I need to tell our parents that you’re not mature enough to mingle with celebrities either?”

She shoots him a pout. “You’re somean, Will.”

“I know, I know, I’m the worst.” He winks at me. “Now run along and tell your little friends you met a celebrity so Eva and I can get some food.”

Santana gasps. “Oh my God,pleaselet me come with you.” She tugs on his arm. “I want to be able to say that I ate dinner with Eve Lidell. Please, Will.Please.”

“Oh, look at that.” Will points across the room. “Your dad is looking for you.”

Santana pouts. “He is not.”

“Is too. So’s your mom.”

“No she isn’t!”

He looks to Lyric. “A little help?”

The calmer girl laughs, grabbing her cousin’s arm. “Come on, Ana.” She lowers her voice to a loud stage whisper. “I think Will is trying to flirt. You’re messing up his game.”

Santana looks like she might pass out. “Oh myGod, please date my cousin!”

Will groans, grabs her by the shoulders, and physically pushes her away. “Fifty bucks if you get her out of here,” he tells Lyric.

She narrows her eyes. “How about a tattoo instead?”

He snorts. “In three years.”

She gives a long-suffering sigh, but she’s smiling as she grabs Santana’s arm. “She’s pretty,” she stage-whispers again, winking at him. “Don’t blow it.”

“Jesus,” he mutters as they go. He runs a hand through his hair as he turns back to me and his eyes narrow at my expression. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

I hold up my hands, grinning. “I’m not laughing.”

“Yeah, but you want to.”

I do laugh, then, and he joins me. “Remember when I told you spending time with my family was like being in a madhouse?”

“I think they’re great,” I tell him honestly.

He looks at something over my shoulder and groans. “Well you’re about to meet a bunch more of them.”

I turn just as a group of who I assume must be his cousins arrive. There’s something similar about all of them, a familiarity that makes it clear they’re related. But these people seem older than the girls I’d just met, all of them probably my own age or close to it.

“William,” one of the boys says in a smug sort of voice, flicking a perfect wave of white-blond hair over his forehead. “So nice to see you beingsocialtonight.” The guy’s gaze flicks to me, his smirk deepening. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

“No,” Will says flatly and the guy laughs.

“Ignore River,” a very pretty girl says—she has the exact same black curls I’d just seen on Santana. “We all do.”

“Hey,” the guy objects. “I’m charming and delightful.”

“Sure you are.” Another blonde, a girl, pushes past him to hold out her hand for me. “I’m Rose.”