Piper gives me a sheepish smile, while Alvin sits on one of Travis’ crocheted blankets. Standing with both of them, his arms crossed and a stern, exhausted look on his face, is Avery.
“Hey,” I say to the three of them. “What’s…up?”
“I’m sorry, Maeve,” Piper says. “I tried not to tell him.”
Avery rubs his forehead and groans.
“Tell him what?” I ask innocently, hoping maybe this is about anythingbutmy scent matches and newly formed pack.
“I brought you a salmon bowl,” my brother grumbles. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“I don’t want your salmon bowl of shame,” I quip, and Piper sighs.
“It’s not a salmon bowl of shame, Maeve. It’s a salmon bowl of communication.”
“There’s nothing to communicate,” I say.
“Since you came in here screaming about your scent matches, I think thereissomething to talk about,” Avery says, his eyes narrowing. He reaches behind counter and presents me with a takeout bag. “Have lunch with me?”
I stare at the bag before snatching it out of his hand. “Are you asking me, or telling me?”
He purses his lips. “Telling.”
Piper whistles. “Uh oh, someone’s in trouble,” she teases, and I glare daggers at her.
Alvin watches it all curiously, his dark grey tail swishing back and forth.
“You want to go sit on the bench?” Avery asks, not unkindly.
But by the twitch in his eye, I can tell he’s upset, which makes my stomach sour.
Upset Avery makesmeupset.
Even his scent is off—usually, he smells similar to me, with subtle chamomile—but he’s justwrong, like someone dropped charcoal all over him.
Yuck.
I try not to pout as we head behind the building to the lone bench, feeling like a chastised child.
We sit in silence for a minute while I dump soy sauce on the rice, then stab a piece of salmon with my chopsticks.
Avery doesn’t look at me. He just stares far ahead, his jaw clenched.
“You’re mad,” I say finally, and he nods.
“You didn’t tell me about Fang,” he says finally.
“It’s not his fault. He’s my scent match, Avery. My actualscent match.”
“You didn’t tell me about Logan, either.”
“What—was I supposed to?”
When Avery finally turns to me, the anger is gone from his face, replaced with exhaustion. “You just met Fang less than a month ago. He was supposed to be your teacher. Not…” he motions with his hand. “Not your scent match, or whatever.”
“Yeah, but you can’t stop something like that!” I argue. “I mean, it happened to you with Piper. You know how special it is.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t invite Piper on a trip without telling my brother.”
