Page 26 of Wish For Me

Before I can think of anything to say—or push down the icky feeling I get from thinking about him in France—Violet gasps. “You know what,” she says, her face brightening. “This is perfect. Peter Pee-eater here can help me.”

Peter raises an eyebrow and looks at me. “I’m sorry, what did she just call me?”

I wave the question away, not really wanting to admit to what my cousins and I have been calling him for years, and turn to Vi. “How is he supposed to help you?”

“Because everyone knows you two hate each other. So if you and Peter Pee-eater get in one of your big shouting matches—”

“Seriously, what the hell is she calling me?”

“—all the attention will be on you,” Violet continues, her grin proud, like this is the best idea she’s ever had. “Then my parents will never know I’m drunk.”

“She realizes she isn’t actually whispering, right?” Peter mutters in my ear. “I heard her shrieking about being drunk from across the field.”

I shiver. Not because he’s close enough that I can feel his warm breath across my neck. No. It’s just cold out here, that’s all.

But I do take a step away from him. Just to be safe.

“Violet, you’re not sneaking off,” I tell her firmly. “Look around you—half the family is tipsy. You’re not skipping the rest of the party just because you had a few drinks.”

“I hadmanydrinks, Vega,” she says, her eyes wide and serious, like it’s very important to her that I understand the magnitude of the situation. “Many, many,manydrinks. “

“Jesus,” Cade mutters under his breath. Then his eyes widen as he looks at something over Violet’s shoulder. “Shit. Incoming.”

Great. My aunt and uncle are walking over here. Since Violet’s announcement about many, many,manydrinks was said at approximately the same decibel level as a car horn, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised she’s drawn her parents’ attention.

But when they get to us, it’s not their daughter that they address.

“Peter,” Aunt Daisy says warmly, giving his shoulder a maternal rub. “We’re so glad you could join us.”

Is it just me, or are his cheeks getting pink? I put it down to the cold weather. I’m pretty sure demon spawn aren’t able to blush.

“It was nice of you guys to invite me,” he says, sounding almost bashful.

“Of course!” Uncle Daltrey says, slapping his back. “No one wanted you sitting alone in a hotel room this weekend while your dad works. I’m just sorry he had to come all the way out here right before Christmas.”

Peter looks down, and I have a fleeting thought—how many times have his plans been screwed up because his father is constantly at the whim of the Ransome machine?

Daisy pats his shoulder again, something knowing in her expression, before turning to the rest of us. “I’m glad you’re all keeping our guest company.” She shoots me a glance that might just be a warning, and I feel my hackles rise. What does she think I’m going to do? Push the dickface off the mountain?

Though now that I think about it, that does sound like a pretty valid option.

“You kids having fun?” she continues.

“Definitely,” Ash says, taking a surreptitious little step in front of his twin sister. “We were just about to—”

“Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry!” Violet bursts out, and we all groan. I should have known Vi’s Little-Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes alter ego was going to make an appearance.

“What are you sorry for, sweetheart?” Aunt Daisy asks, her green eyes twinkling in amusement. Yeah, I’m guessing she knows.

And then, for some incomprehensible reason, Violet decides to blurt out, “I’m super high!”

“What?” Aunt Daisy bursts out through a laugh. “You’re high?”

“She’s not high,” Cade says, glaring at our cousin. “What’swrongwith you?” he hisses.

“It sounded better than saying I was drunk,” Vi says miserably. “I didn’t think they’d get as mad.”

“Why in the hell did you think we’d consider being high better than being drunk?” Uncle Daltrey asks, and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh, too.