Page 10 of Vicious Games

“Frances… Frances…Frankie!“

I snap out of my thoughts, tearing my gaze away from the window and back to my calculus class.

“Yes, Sister Agnes?” I ask, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Sister Agnes sighs, her expression softening when she sees my flustered state.

“Can you come to the board, please, and finish this equation?”

“Sure. I cancometo the board,” I reply halfheartedly. Finishing the equation? That’s another story.

I stand up and walk to the head of the class, already sweating under the weight of all the eyes watching me.

Sister Agnes extends the whiteboard pen to me, her smile gentle and encouraging. I grab it a bit too hastily, making her smile waver for a moment.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I mean… balls, balls, balls!

I stare at the whiteboard and silently beg God to either give me the answer or open the ground beneath me so it can swallow me whole.

“Come on, Big Guy. Do me this solid,” I mutter under my breath.

But, like most of my prayers, this one goes unanswered, too.

I stare at the jumbled numbers and letters, trying to make sense of them to no avail. I could stand here until graduation, and Istillwouldn’t know the answer.

I’m usually great with math. But AP Calculus? It’s my Achilles’ heel.

When Sister Agnes encouraged me to enroll in AP Calculus my senior year, citing my success in Pre-Calculus the year before, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her no.

The truth is that I freaking hate calculus. Hate it with every inch of my being.

Where Sister Agnes saw a high aptitude for equation solving my junior year, I saw loads of sleepless nights just trying to make heads or tails of it all.

I knew I should have never agreed to be in this stupid class.

And now my reluctance to disappoint Sister Agnes is biting me in the ass.

Ugh. There I go again.

Istrongly dislikeit.

Aside from cursing, Sister Margaretta has been on my case about using words likehateordespise. Nuns are supposed to be all about love and acceptance.

Yeah, that’s going to take a hot minute to master.

It’s hard to accept anything in life after being abandoned like garbage as a baby.

I didn’t love that. And I sure as hell refuse to accept it.

“Fuck my life! Are we really going to sit here all day watching Slowpoke struggle to rearrange numbers until they finally make sense in her tiny pea brain?”

I don’t need to turn around to know who just said that.

Luciano Romano.

Talk about an elitist prick.

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