Page 19 of Vicious Games

Seems way cleaner and way easier to me.

But all of that will have to wait since our father has a strict rule that no one in this family gets inducted before their eighteenth birthday and—not or—graduates with a high school diploma.

It used to be a college diploma, but after Marcello’s induction, Dad couldn’t exactly enforce that rule anymore.

Not that Mom seems to care to remember.

She’s always placing college brochures around the house hoping we take the hint.

Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind going off to college for a year or two.

I mean, how hard could it be? If I couldn’t graduate in that time frame, then I’d just drop out.

I’m too in a rush to take theomertàto sink my teeth into all that code.

And Enzo?

He basically gets astiffyjust thinking about it.

“So, what do you think?” I hear my mother ask my father, pulling my attention away from my future plans.

“About what?”

“Inviting the girl Lucky had the misfortune of pissing off,” Stella answers with a goading smirk.

I groan since the glimmer in my sister’s eyes is going to get tired real fast.

My father hums in thought. “The idea does have some merit. It would bode well for Lucky if he showed no ill feelings toward the girl.”

“Hello?” I point to my black and blue shiners. “Yeah, thereareill feelings.”

My father lets out an exhale, setting his coffee down with a deliberate clink.

“So, what I’m hearing,” he says, his voice calm but firm, “is that you don’t want to graduate?”

I straighten immediately in my seat.

“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“Really?” He lifts a brow. “Because from what your mother tells me, Sister Margaretta is strongly considering holding you back another year.”

My stomach drops.

Shit.

“I’ve been patient with you and your brother,” my father continues, “I didn’t say anything when you two refused to transfer to a different school, even though it meant you wouldn’t be academically challenged. I understood the reasoning behind it. I hold grudges, too. But don’t let sheer foolishness keep you from getting your diploma, son.”

I lean back in my chair and push my plate away.

“I’ll graduate.”

“Make sure that you do,” he warns. “Because if you don’t? You won’t be taking theomertànext year. Or any year, for that matter. That, I can guarantee you.”

Fuck.

I guess I have no choice.

I really am going to have to tutor Frances.

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