“Why is Grace being so rude to your sister?” Peter whispered, his warm breath hitting my ear and sending tingles down my neck.
“It’s not real. Grace is pretending to misbehave so that Rebecca can punish her and make all the students who think she’s a soft touch respect her more.”
“Huh. That’s actually pretty clever.”
“That’s it,” Rebecca declared, with her hands on her hips. “I’m sending you to Principal Wolf’s office, and I’ll be recommending you spend the next month in detention.”
At this, Grace’s eyes bugged, and I suppressed a grin. I bet she wasn’t expecting Rebecca’s punishment to be quite so extensive. I saw her mouth the words, A month, seriously, Becks?
Rebecca shrugged, looking like she was suppressing a grin of her own.
“Fine, I’ll behave,” Grace pleaded, suddenly changing her tune, but Rebecca stood firm.
“It’s too late now. Get up. I’ll escort you to the principal’s office myself.”
Reluctantly, Grace rose, picking up her bag while Rebecca walked her out of the classroom. I grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled him farther down the hallway, so they didn’t spot us.
“You can’t be serious about me spending a month in detention,” Grace murmured once they were out of earshot of the class.
“I warned you that the punishment would be severe. This isn’t going to work if I go easy on you,” Rebecca replied.
Grace groaned. “Ugh, it’s almost sexy how strict you’re being right now.”
“Don’t start trying to distract me by pretending to flirt. I know all your tactics.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” Grace shot back.
Rebecca gave a sigh. “Just keep walking. You made a deal with me, and now you’re going to see it through.”
They continued down the hall, and we could no longer hear their conversation.
I glanced at Peter and found him studying my face. “What?”
“You said something to me once about Grace being besotted with someone. It wouldn’t happen to be your sister, would it?”
“Good on you for cracking the most obvious case in history,” I teased and gave him a shove. “Come on. We’re going to be late for class.”
Peter stole a kiss, and butterflies fluttered through my belly before we hot-footed it to Mrs Tenaka’s classroom.
Oddly, Vasilios’ comment about how long our lives would be compared to Peter’s entered my mind. I resented the cold truth of the statement, but it did make me see my cousin’s love for Rebecca in a slightly different light. In years to come, Grace would no longer be a student and Rebecca would no longer be her teacher. Their age gap wouldn’t be such a big deal when they’d both lived for over a century. Perhaps then, Grace could finally come clean about her feelings.
Or, more realistically, she would be long over her schoolgirl infatuation with my sister.
At the end of the day, Peter met me by my locker, and we headed out. I was ridiculously excited for our movie date, but as we exited the school, Peter stopped mid-stride, his eyes on a woman standing near the gates.
“Is that your mother?” I asked, and he nodded, his expression grim.
“What do you think she wants?”
“I don’t know. Wait here while I go and talk to her.”
I stood by the school building, watching as Peter approached his mum. She looked emotional as she pulled him into a hug. It lasted longer than typical, and I got the sense that she’d really missed him. They broke away and spoke for a few minutes before hugging again. Peter returned to my side.
“Let’s go.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me why your mother came to see you,” I said, full of curiosity.
Peter touched the spot below his ear. “She wants me to come home. I told her that so long as my father is still living under that roof, it wouldn’t be happening.”
“Does your father want you to come home, too?”
“She said he does, but if he really wanted me back, then he would’ve come to see me himself. What he wants is for me to start working at Indigo again, and that’s never going to happen.”
“Good. You seem much happier since you’ve been working on Clay’s market stall.”
“He’s been letting me help him with some of the spells. That way, I get to keep a percentage of the profit. He knows I’m saving for a place, and he wanted to help me out.”
“He sounds like a good guy. It’s a relief to know that not all the demon warlocks out there are bloodthirsty psychopaths.”
Peter nodded, and we made our way over to my car. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something on the drive into the city.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked while the radio played quietly in the background.
He rubbed his jaw. “Do you really think he’s a psychopath?”
“Who? Vasilios? Of course. Look what he did to Mr Williams. That isn’t the action of a sane person.”