“You didn’t,” she said, desperate to save some kind of face here.
And maybe she could have had Gwyn not existed.
Gaping at Vivi, Gwyn said, “Um, he very much did. Remember all the crying? The bath? You kept conjuring up the smell of his cologne, for fuck’s sake.”
Vivi’s face flamed red and she sunk farther into her chair. “I did not do that,” she muttered even as Rhys stared at her in obvious shock.
“You called me a ‘fuckerneck,’ which is not even a word,” he reminded her. “You threw my own pants at me. You weren’t brokenhearted, you were angry.”
“Right, because no woman has ever been both those things at the same time,” Gwyn said, and Vivi finally stood, scrubbing her hands over her face.
“Would everyone stop acting like I was this tragic, lovelorn victim? I was a drunk teenager goofing around with my equally drunk cousin. This was not that big of a deal.” She paused, then rolled her eyes. “Okay, so this part of it has turned out to be a big deal, but I mean the actual cursing bit. That was not meant to be a big deal, and you’re all being ridiculous about it.”
She pointed at Rhys. “Do you really want to tell me you didn’t do something overly dramatic and stupid as a teenager?”
“‘Overly dramatic and stupid’ describes my entire teenage career, so no.”
“Gwyn?” she asked, turning to face her cousin.
Screwing up her face, Gwyn said, “Girl, you lived with me when I was a teenager. You know.”
Nodding, Vivi faced Aunt Elaine, who continued to frown at her for a beat only to finally throw up her hands and say, “I know you’re just going to mention the whole thing with Led Zeppelin, so let’s just skip it and admit we’ve all done stupid things in our pasts, and leave Vivi alone about her motivation.”
“Thank you,” Vivi said. “Now that we all agree that the why does not matter, the issue is the what. Namely, what this curse might mean for Graves Glen.”
Sighing, Elaine reached up and tugged at her earring. “I assume the curse spread to the ley lines,” she said, “and given that the ley lines fuel all the magic in town, that magic is now . . . corrupted.”
Hence evil plastic skulls, and while Vivi prided herself on being optimistic, she wasn’t naive enough to think that was going to be the limit of this disaster. Who knew what other things the cursed ley lines might unleash?
“I need to talk to my father,” Rhys said as he leaned against the wardrobe, tossing one of the skulls that had survived Elaine’s spell back and forth in his hands. Every time its teeth clacked together, Vivi felt her skin crawl. Too bad they’d never be able to sell those things again because they really had been popular. But revisiting a nightmare was not worth the occasional extra five bucks, in Vivi’s opinion.
“Do you want me to get the mirror?” she asked Rhys, and he raised his head, startled.
“I said I need to talk to him, not that I’m actually going to do it.” Rhys shuddered. “This night has been horrible enough already.”
“Simon will need to be told,” Aunt Elaine said on a sigh, sinking into the chair Vivi had just vacated. “And I don’t look forward to his reaction.”
“What can he do?” Gwyn asked. “I mean, other than be a dick about it.”
Pushing off the wardrobe, Rhys gave a humorless laugh. “Ah, the times I’ve asked myself, ‘What can my father do about something other than be a dick,’ only to find out he can do plenty.”
Vivi had already been worried—battling a bunch of toys come to life had that effect on a girl—but now she felt her heart plunge somewhere south of her knees.