Page 133 of Vicious Games

“But,” I continue with a smile, “there is no way in hell I’m going to let you give me that shot. I would, however, accept your help some other way.”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously. “How?”

“Would you come with me to the free clinic so I can get the pill? You know… just in case Lucky and I do get… physical.”

“I can do you one better.” She pulls out her phone and drops the syringe into the wastebasket. “I’ll book you an appointment with the best gynecologist in the city.”

“You’re not just going to leave that in there, are you?” I ask, motioning toward the trash.

“Fine,” she sighs, rolling her eyes before grabbing a few paper towels and plucking out the syringe as if it offended her personally. “Happy now?” she asks while wrapping the syringe and pocketing it.

“Ecstatic.” I grin. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me after seeing a doctor,” she mutters, already dialing.

While she talks over the phone, I glance at my reflection in the mirror and realize there’s a new light in my eyes. Perhaps something about this whole chaotic restroom intervention feels… good. Like I’m not just drifting alone in my own world anymore.

Is Stella right? Does Lucky love me? Did our little games leave a mark on him like they did on me?

I’m still chewing on her words when Stella reappears at my side, looking more at ease, and says, “They can fit you in today. You up for a little joy ride into the city?”

Normally, I’d say no. I’m not the kind of girl who ditches class or skips chapel bells or skirts hallway check-ins. But this week? I’ve already stepped off the map with my taking-Lucky-to-church-moment in the utility closet.

“Yeah,” I say, surprising even myself. “Let’s go for a ride.”

She beams at me with pride. And for the first time since meeting Stella, I feel like I’ve passed some unspoken test. Like maybe, just maybe, I’ve earned my place in her impossible-to-please universe.

We glide into Sacred Heart’s parking lot three hours later in Stella’s flashy convertible with the top down and the wind in our hair as if starring in our own rebellious movie montage. I clutch the prescription bag tighter, still reeling from the doctor’s kindness and Stella’s supportive demeanor as she sat next to me the whole time without judgment, even when I got overwhelmed.

“Thanks for helping me with this,” I say softly.

“Don’t sweat it. We girls have to look out for each other.”

She means it. Stella may come with sharp edges and blunt opinions, but under all that fire is someone who protects what she cares about ferociously. She’s not just a champion of feminism. She’s a one-woman army. The kind who’d burn the world down if someone hurt you and then ask if you want ice cream afterward. I smile at her, feeling something strange and wonderful settling in my chest.

“I think I’ve gained a friend today,” I say.

She scoffs, but her mouth twitches into a half-smile. “Please don’t get all sentimental on me. That’s Anna’s department, not mine.”

“If you say so,” I taunt, now that I know what kind of heart beats underneath all that bravado.

“Oh, FYI,” she adds casually, shifting into park. “If Sister Agnes or Sister Margaretta ask you about this weekend’s sleepover with me and Anna, just nod and smile like you already knew all about it.”

“Huh?” I counter, confused.

“Don’t look at me and talk to your boyfriend. Lucky was the one who emotionally blackmailed Annamaria this morning into calling Sister Agnes with his signature puppy eyes,” she says with an exaggerated eye roll. “Apparently, we’re having a girls’ day and sleepover on Saturday. Sounds like he’s got big plans for your date.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Oh, that.” I laugh, heat rushing to my cheeks.

“Yeah, that. Now, aren’t you glad we saw the doctor?” She grins wickedly. “See? I’m always ten steps ahead.”

“I’ll make a note of that.” I giggle, stepping out of the car.

Even though the day started with awkward questions and an unsolicited syringe, it ended with something better—trust, sisterhood, and the sense that maybe, just maybe, I’m not just falling in love with Lucky but also being claimed by his whole world.

I didn’t expect to laugh this much. Or smile until my cheeks hurt. Or feel like the whole world had shifted just a few inches closer to perfect. But here we are.

Stella and Annamaria pick me up from the orphanage around ten o’clock Saturday morning, like Lucky had calculatingly organized. We drive away from Saint Mary’s, only to stop the car a few blocks down, where Lucky is anxiously waiting for me.

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