Charades And Champagne

23

Miles jerked awake at the sound of someone knocking loudly on his door. He stared at the ceiling, trying to work out why it was painted dark blue rather than ivory. It took him a moment to realize that this was his old room. He wasn't in Trenton anymore.

        There were three more impatient knocks.

        He rolled off the bed and stretched, looking around his room critically as he did so. It was exactly the same as he'd left it. It'd been cleaned of course, since there was no dust – at least none that he could immediately see. But all the deep blue walls were still covered in his white chalk scrawls and mathematical diagrams from when he had used it as a makeshift black board.

        He was happy to see that his parents hadn't painted over it.

        Pacing while doing homework was a habit he'd gotten out of after moving to Trenton. There, his aunt and uncle would not have appreciated having their walls scribbled on. And he had no doubt that the patrons of Al's Pizzeria — where he finished his nightly homework with Zoe — would feel the same if he made a habit of walking up and down the length of the restaurant, riddling out the answer to a particularly hard maths or physics question.

        So he'd learned to adapt to sitting in one place as he did his work. Pity.

        There were perks, of course. Such as getting to watch the little crease between Zoe's eyebrows as she frowned at the latest form of torture handed out by Mr. Brenner for that day. Or the way she tended to throw small things at him when she got too frustrated. Things like pen lids, erasers and paper balls.

        Miles smirked to himself. It was a good thing he was good at catching.

        Using one hand to stifle a yawn, and the other to rake back his rumpled hair, Miles went sleepily up to the door and opened it.

        Abigail stood on the other side, holding a steaming mug and wearing an extremely smug expression.

        This was not going to end well.

        "Good morning," Miles said, eyeing her cautiously. He wondered what she was up to now.

        Abby smirked. "Afternoon actually," she corrected. "It's two. But don't worry, there's still plenty of time before we leave – so here." She offered him the mug.

        "Oh." He looked at it with unconcealed reluctance. "You know, I'm really not that thirsty and–"

        "It's coffee," Abby snapped, thrusting the mug into his hands – almost spilling the scorching beverage on him in the process. Miles looked at the mug again with infinitely more interest. "Well, in that case – thank you." He blew on it before taking a sip.

        It was heavenly.

        "Yes, well," Abby said, "don't think I missed the face you pulled at the perfectly good cup of tea mum made."

        "Mm hmm," replied Miles, who was too occupied to actually pay attention to what she was saying.

        Which was why it took him a few moments to register ALL of what she'd said earlier.

        When he did, however, he immediately began eyeing his sister with renewed suspicion.

        "What did you mean by 'plenty of time before we leave'?" he demanded. "I just arrived. Where are we leaving to?"

        Abby gave him a truly angelic smile before saying, "Why, we're all going back to Trenton with you of course. Today."

        Miles immediately began to splutter and cough violently – having accidentally swallowed an extra large mouthful of burning coffee. He winced in pain as he felt the hot liquid positively searing his throat on the way down.