Page 28 of Vicious Games

I don’t believe in guilt.

Neither my conscience nor some would-be nun is going to change that.

Enzo leans against his locker, watching students rush past, impatient to start their weekend. A week ago, I probably looked that eager, too.

But this week? I’m stuck here like a damn chump.

“Shiner’s looking better today,” Enzo comments, nodding toward my face.

“Yeah, instead of blue and purple, it’s turning some shitty shade of yellow. Fantastic,” I mutter sarcastically.

“Jesus, you’re in a mood.” He snickers.

“I wonder why that is,” I snap, slamming my locker shut.

“Come on. She can’t be that bad.”

“She can, and sheis,” I growl. “It’s days like this that I wish we were identical. That way, I’d sendyouto tutor her instead of me.”

“Nope. I didn’t do the crime, so I’m not doing the time. It’s your own damn fault for humiliating her in class.”

“I didnothumiliate her.”

“No?” He raises a brow. “That’s not what I heard.”

“This school gossips too much.” I frown.

“Never seemed to bother you before,” he smirks. “Or is it only a problem now becauseyoucame out looking like the asshole?”

“Shut up,” I grumble, hating how my twin and my conscience are apparently on the same damn wavelength.

I didn’t mean to embarrass her.

It’s just that she was takingforeverto solve the easiest fucking equation known to mankind. Watching her hesitate at the whiteboard felt like having my brain clawed at—as if someone was scraping chunks of intelligence straight out of my skull, making me stupider by the second.

If people knew what it was like to be smarter than everyone else, they’d understand how painful it is to sit through mundane conversations and situations, pretending not to be bored out of their goddamn mind.

The only one that understands my plight is my twin, but the fucker has an endless well of patience which only makes me look like an arrogant ass sometimes.

“Hey, I know how to turn that frown upside down,” Enzo says, studying me.

“Oh, yeah? How?”

“Follow me.” He winks, slapping his backpack.

I watch as he veers off in the opposite direction of the library, my gaze flicking between what Ishouldbe doing and what Iwantto do.

Fuck it.

No contest.

I follow Enzo down the hall, out of the building, and into the small chapel beside the Virgin Mary fountain statue. The place is empty—just like always.

“What do you got?” I ask after we’ve dropped onto a pew.

“Oh, brother, what don’t I have?” he grins, pulling his laptop from his bag. He opens it, presses a few keys, and suddenly, lines of code flood the screen.

My eyes scan the numbers, my heart picking up speed.

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