Page 22 of Vicious Games

However, as I watch everyone rush out of their seats, eager to go home, I realize that today I’m not so lucky.

Lucky.

Ugh.

Even the word is ruined for me now.

Not that it ever held any weight in my life.

If there was ever a person born without any luck, so to speak, it’s me.

No.

Don’t go there.

No negative self-talk, remember, Frankie?

You hear enough of that from everyone else. You don’t need to hear it from yourself, too.

I grab my books and head to the locker to get my backpack, ensuring I have my calculus textbook and a fresh notebook for today’s tutoring session. I trudge toward the library at Sacred Heart with a heavy sigh, rolling my eyes when I see a few kids already there, preparing to attend whatever after-school program they’re in.

But no Lucky.

If this asshole stands me up, I swear to God, I’ll break his nose this time.

Breathe, Frankie. Breathe.

I wish my mind didn’t immediately jump to violence all the time. I have no idea who I get it from, but at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of my parents was an MMA fighter or something. Because the moment something rubs me the wrong way, my first instinct is to clench my fists and swing.

After counting to ten, I walk over to an empty table and crack open my textbook. Lucky or not, I need to figure this crap out since it’s not only my diploma on the line but also my housing status.

Five minutes later, I’m scratching my head, completely lost.

Nothing makes sense.

It’s like trying to decipher a foreign language with no translation.

Whoever invented calculus was a sadist.

There, I said it.

Argh!

“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears,” a low, familiar voice taunts, hovering over me.

I don’t need to look up to know who it is.

“You’re late,” I snap, flipping the page a little too hard.

“Or you’re early. Time is a man-made construct. Who’s to say what time it really is?” Lucky muses, the grin in his voice undeniable.

I resist the urge to chuck my textbook at his head.

“I hope you know more about calculus than you do about telling time, or else we’re both fucked.”

Lucky slides into the chair beside me, stretching out as if he owned the place.

“Never heard a nun say ‘fuck’ before.”

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