loving you is a losing game - avery x jameson

chapter 3 - scones and secrets

MY BLINDS WERE chucked open. I turned away from the bright lights and hid under the quilt.

 "Avery, we have to go to school!" Max's voice said, waking me up from a peaceful slumber. 

"No, we don't." I grumbled back. 

"Yes, we do." Max corrected me. "Your uniform is already out." 

I sat up and looked at my uniform, hanging off the back of a chair. I smiled. Max saw. She ran towards me. "Why did you just smile, Avery Grambs? Tell me, tell me now!!" she squealed.

I told her. How could I not? I told Max everything, and this wasn't going to be the exception. 

"Finally!" she yelled. 

"Shhhhh!!" I whispered, turning bright red. 

She giggled, and then left me to get changed. I got into my uniform, trying not to think about what happened with Jamie. I ran downstairs, cautious to not miss breakfast. There were pancakes piled by the dozen, and Xander was already seated at the table, eating. 

"Is there a particular pancake eating technique?" I joked, reminding him of our first real conversation together. 

"Have you learnt nothing in your time here?" He replied. "There is a correct technique to eating everything." 

I looked around the room. Empty. "Where's..." I started. 

"Upstairs. In his room." Xander said without looking at me. 

"Not coming to school today?" I pressed. 

Xander paused, then said, "He's too sleep deprived to even make it out of his room. Must've gotten a new riddle." he said, looking everywhere but me. "Anyway, time for school." he said after an awkward silence. 

"I hope you got enough sleep last night." he added. 

I turned red and stared him down. "Wh-what?" I asked. 

"For our test today!" he said, "Our Science test? School? Hello?"

 I snapped back into reality. Phew. "Oh. Yes. Of course." I grabbed my backpack and headed straight for the car, Xander following me.

When I got to school, Max was already there. 

"How did you-" I started. 

"Swimming training." She replied, squeezing excess water out of her slick ponytail. "Better go dry myself before class." She added. 

I watched her turn down the hallway, and walked the opposite way, down to my locker. I was about to grab my books when someone tapped me on the back. I turned around and met Thea. Well, actually Thea and Rebecca.

 "Yes?" I asked with a slight edge to my voice. We had gotten on better terms since the kidnapping, but I still didn't completely trust her. 

"I heard someone had a busy night..." Thea sing-songed. 

I went red. "Wh-where did you heard that?" I pressed, lowering my voice. 

She smiled her most cunning smile. "Let's just say that I know of a certain Hawthorne who may or may not be trialling some new scone listening devices." Thea giggled. 

"Did I hear the word scone?" A yell came down the corridor. I faced the direction of the voice.

 "Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, get over here right now!" I yelled back. 

Xander saw that I wasn't joking and ran back the way he came as the bell rang out. 

"Oops," said Thea innocently, "I guess it's time for class." She and Rebecca turned around and went the opposite way. 

Max stood there like a deer in headlights. "Umm, what?" she exclaimed. 

"Tell you later." I replied.

"HE DID WHAT?" Max yelled. She had walked- actually, more like ran- into my room after school, and begged me to tell her. I couldn't lie to her, so I told her. 

"Quiet down!" I whispered back. "Do you want everyone to know?" 

Max looked at me with fire burning in her eyes. "Alexander, I'm going to kill you." She whispered for only me to hear. 

She turned on her heel and stormed off, presumably to find Xander. I followed her, trailing a few steps behind. She walked with purpose, on a mission. I sped up, walking beside her now. 

"Max-" I started. 

"No," she interrupted, "he doesn't get to get away with this." 

I felt an arm link with mine. "Where we heading?" Jameson asked. 

"To find your brother who listened in on your conversation with me last night." I replied, without changing my tone. 

Jameson stopped. He went bright red. 

"Who?" he asked, as more of a comment than a question, his tone demanding. 

"Which faxing Hawthorne would make a scone listening device?" Max asked back.