Lies Twist The Way We Think

Chapter 1 - An uncomfortable talk with the principal

Prefacing this story with three messages (may change from time to time):

1. Camille is the daughter of Hannah, just like Avery. She is not biologically the sister of Libby, but she loves her nonetheless. She has a different father and a different surname because of that.

2. I sometimes go back and edit the written chapters. There aren't many changes done but small mistakes such as grammar etc. annoy me greatly. My apologies.

3. I like a good game as much as any of you. I hope you enjoy the read and please, do me a favour and don't be a silent reader. I like reading your thoughts.

To all the new readers:
I know it starts a little slow, but as the story progresses, we distance ourselves from the book plot. Hope you still stick around! Not my proudest first chapter and I may edit it sometime.

C. R. D. - M. L. T.

When we were kids, our mom constantly invented games.

The Quiet Game. The Who Can Make Their Cookie Last Longer? Game. The Marshmallow Game, which was Avery's personal favourite, because it involved eating marshmallows while wearing puffy Goodwill jackets indoors. The Flashlight Game was the one we played when the electricity went out.

Our longest-lasting game was called I Have A Secret, because mom said that everyone should always have at least one. Now I know why.

Most days, she guessed ours. Avery was easy to read, at least for mom and me, and I didn't like to have secrets from her so I kept them light and easy to guess. Most times.

We played every week, right up until I was sixteen and Avery just turned fifteen and one of mom's secrets landed her in the hospital.

The next thing I knew, she was gone.

"Your move, sunshine." A gravelly voice drags me back to the present. "I don't have all day."

"Come on, you can win this," Avery cheers from next to us. She lost her game, so this is our very last chance.

"Not a sunshine," I retort, focusing back on the chessboard and sliding my queen into place. Three more moves. "Your move, old man."

Harry scowls at me, then he turns his head to Avery. "Do you hear what she calls me?" He asks and Avery grins winningly.

"You forget who gave you that nickname in the first place."

I don't know how old Harry is, or where he stays when he isn't playing chess with us, and I have no idea how he came to be homeless. I do know he is a formidable opponent. And he doesn't treat me any different from how he treats Avery.

He plays. I plays. And as I predicted, three moves later I have him.

"You," he grumbles, eyeing the board, "are a horrible person."

"Mate. You know what that means, Harry. Let's go get some lunch."

I high-five Avery, who looks at me proudly. Harry gives us a dirty look and we make our way. The terms of our long-standing bet say that if one of us wins our daily chess games with him, he can't turn down free breakfast.

Afterwards, I drive us to school. The chess game took longer than expected and I'm fairly sure we are late already.

"Alright Ave, I'll see you later." I kiss her forehead briefly and she rolls her eyes, then she storms towards her class.

The corridors are strangely empty and I haste towards the class room, cursing myself for miscalculating our time once again.

"Miss Diante, you're late. For the third time this week."