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Just as Vio is about to start the car, it seems like she realizes something and then blurts out, “I never asked you if you’re allergic to anything!”
Dumbfounded, I break out laughing.
Chapter25
Violetta
“We’re having a yacht day!” Xavier exclaims from beside me.
Following yesterday’s junk food buffet, I lie limp on the couch after having to do a whole two-hour training session with Sofia. My stomach feels like it’s about to explode, even though my whole body has most likely burned off all the calories from yesterday.
Chanel groans on the couch next to me, her hangover most likely pounding in her head. Cleo is still in bed as always while her counterpart, even hungover, adheres to her morning routine.
Xavier, on the other hand, is jumping for joy at the day ahead and I don’t know how he’s even alive after we stayed up till four in the morning watchingThe Simpsons. Soon after we finished episode eleven of season two of our binge-watching session, the twins were just getting home from their night out.
Chanel in her rare form was jumping for joy and Cleo didn’t even look tired after being out since ten o’clock. When I saw them home safe, I finally relaxed.
But weirdly enough, talking with the golden boy yesterday took my mind off my worry for my sisters. Learning a lot about him in the process allowed me to see a new side of him. His vulnerability with me hasn’t gone unnoticed. I’ve realized that he and I are more similar than I expected.
While we were watching his favorite show, he was ranting about the making of each episode. About the little details that go unnoticed by the watcher. Like the reason they were made yellow was to grab people who channel surf’s attention. Homer’s email on the show is actually a real email that fans can send messages to and get genuine responses. He explained that when he got a computer for the first time, he automatically made an email address and then sent the fictional character a letter in digital form. He then went on a rant about how the show has predicted the future countless times.
Hearing about how the show saved him makes me smile and honestly, I could listen to him talking about it carelessly for hours.The Simpsonsis pretty entertaining; the humor, on the other hand, is incredibly stupid. Sitting next to me, Xavier was practically toppling over in laughter and then it proceeded to make me laugh too. His laugh is infectious even when the jokes don’t adhere to my definition of hilarious.
He scarfed down the plethora of snacks we bought. His dislike for marshmallows was apparent and he loved everything spicy. Dipping everything in salsa has become his new personality.
“How do you expect us to rent a yacht at this time of day?” Chanel asks, followed by a groan at the sound of her own voice.
“Don’t underestimate my abilities, Peach.” He has a cheeky expression on his face as if he didn’t only sleep for three hours. “Now, get ready and I will get our plans for the day in order!” He then walks away and up the stairs; my gaze follows him until he reaches Cleo’s room.
Oh no.
Cleo does not like to be woken up in any circumstance. Getting her up at six in the morning before she graduated high school was almost impossible. Of course my father didn’t quite care and my mother felt bad having to wake her up, so I was the one to do it every day. Now that she can make her own schedule while going to makeup classes she has the ability to go at night, which leads me to no longer having that responsibility.
I don’t warn Xavier. I just sit and wait for the massacre to begin. It’s twelve o’clock and she will not be happy to be woken from her beauty sleep.
He turns the handle to her room, and I cringe.
Maybe I should save him.
I hear him call out, “Sparkles,” as he walks into her room.
It takes a few seconds for him to come running out of the room. Cleo is chasing him down the stairs.
“You do not wake me up! Even if the house is on fire. At least I would pass away in peace!” I hear her yell at him.
She is definitely not a morning person.
My head moves at their every movement, and I can’t help but laugh out loud.
“Sparkles, calm down.” He runs toward me and hops on top of the couch. Cleo stops in her tracks as he holds his hands up in front of his body, attempting to shield himself.
As if it’s going to protect him.
“Last time I checked, I don’t go into your room and wake you up at four in the morning! So do not wake me up this early!”
“It’s twelve o’clock in the afternoon, Cleo,” I chip in, trying to help Xavier.
“Don’t you talk. You sent him into this situation, and he will reap the consequences.” Pointing her finger in my direction, her tone is one a mother would scold their child with; and wide eyes stare in anger.
