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Chapter 13: Level the Playing Field

Chapter 13: Level the Playing Field

"So how did you two end up together?" the Junior valedictorian, head of the Journal and Media Department, asks us as the interview Max scheduled takes place.

I tap my chin in mock thought and then glance at Max with an apprehensive grin. "Um, I think Maxipad tells it best."

Max turns to me with widened eyes. He doesn't like being put on the spot unless he's prepared for it. He's a bad liar. It's not like I'm much better. I mean a Teletubby outfit at Rowdy's? Who am I kidding? Oh wait, that's everyone.

Max squeezes my hand tightly to signify his anger. I smile sweetly at him and motion for him to come up with a story and fast. 

He starts hesitantly, "Well, it all began a few months ago when I was rock climbing. Aqueels started talking me up like the flirt she is..." he trails off when I give him a subtle glare. He feigns laughter as if reminiscing back on a memory, "I remember that she couldn't keep her eyes off my biceps, kept telling me that my calves were more intricately carved than the Egyptian pyramids and-"

"Oh, Max," I swat him hard on his upper arm, cutting him off, refusing to go down like this. I don't want this false information revealed to most of the student body. 

"Oh, Aqueela," he retorts back with a grin, aware that I'm about to kill him.

"Anyway, that story is really boring!" I practically shout in order to stop him from talking and hopefully change the subject. "How about we talk about something other than Max's intricately structured Egyptian calves?" I suggest, giving him a death stare in the process.

The reporter shrugs and continues on with the interview. "Well, the Maxeela fans want to know what you two have installed for the MMAs. That seems to be a hot topic right now."

I open my mouth to answer, but of course, as soon as Max hears the acronym 'MMA', his attention perks up as he leans in forward and begins to blabber on about all his plans that seem so far-fetched and unrealistic. 

No wonder Bells and Mason think we're both insane. I mean, how am I supposed to go about body slamming a grown man? Max gives me way too much credit.

I can't believe it's been only a week since Max and I have been fake dating. To say that it's been torture is an understatement. He's a pest. 

On the brighter side of things, I have successfully got Jay to acknowledge me every now and then. We're well on our way to being best friends. 

I have also managed to avoid Mason, which, sadly, means avoiding Bells too.

"What's your take on this, Aqueela?" the reporter asks. When I don't answer, she repeats herself, "Aqueela?"

Max clicks his fingers in front of my face to get me back into the conversation. "Aqueela? Babe? Pay attention!"

I tune back into the boring conversation. "Sorry, what? I was distracted by Max's hand on my leg," I lie, tormenting him further. "He can be such a flirt sometimes." 

Max folds his arms over his chest, a frown etched onto his face, his anger clear as day. 

"I am sorry, you are going to have to repeat the question, what was it?" I ask her.

The reporter, taken aback, blinks a few times at the revelation I just announced. She repeats her question, still stunned by what I had just said, "Is Max a respectful gentleman?"

Oops! This one is on me.

"Well, I think I just gave you the answer to that," I mumble, the reporter nodding slowly. She's still astonished, judging by the blank expression on her face. She writes all that I've said down, the cameras still filming.