Page 5 of Wish For Me

“You should,” he continues when I don’t answer. “Not that they’ll beat anything I make, of course, but they’re not bad.”

I blow out a breath, too uncomfortable to even be upset at the little dig.

“Vega?”

“I’m not applying,” I blurt out, and Peter goes very still next to me.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, shaking his head. “I could have sworn you just said you weren’t applying.”

“Congratulations,” I mutter. “You understand basic English. Your family must be so proud.”

“Vega.” There’s a sharp note to his voice. “What the hell do you mean you’re not applying?”

“I mean exactly that. I’ve decided France isn’t the right choice for me right now.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then—“Are you fucking insane?”

“Keep your voice down,” I snap as several heads turn in our direction.

“Of course you’re applying. You’ve been talking about this since we were kids.”

I have to force my voice to stay even. “Like I said, it’s not the right choice for me right now.”

“Bullshit. It’sFrance. It’s the most prestigious patisserie internship in the world. It’s a full year of training with the best pastry chefs in the world.”

“Aren’t you the one who was just teasing me about going to Paris over break?”

“I was teasing you for being a spoiled brat,” he snaps. “Not for wanting to study there. Jesus.”

“Why do you care?” I shoot back.

For once, Peter Dumont doesn’t have the perfect witty comeback. He just stares at me like he doesn’t recognize me for a long minute.

“Something’s wrong,” he finally says, narrowing his eyes. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“You should be happy. This way you have a better chance of getting in.”

He scoffs. “We were both going to get in,” he says. “And you know it.”

Man, two compliments in ten minutes. Maybe he’s coming down with something.

“Tell me why you’re not applying. The truth now.”

I sigh. “I decided to go to school here.”

“Culinary school?”

“No.” I swallow then name the local state university. His silence feels like a condemnation. I find myself hurrying to fill the heavy quiet. “I wanted a real college experience. Dorms and freshman classes and all of that.”

He swears. “I don’t believe this. You’re giving up your dream to go to college with your cousins?”

“I didn’t say anything about my cousins,” I begin, but the look he shoots me has me closing my mouth. “This is what I want to do.”

“Do they know what you’re giving up for them?”

“I’m not giving it up for them,” I snap. “I told you, it’s what I want.”

“Bullshit. You want to go to France and take over the world. Does that school even have a culinary program?”