I didn’t understand the point of forgiveness. Where the hell did it get you? Right back where you started: naïve and vulnerable to the same shit happening again. This deal with Jess was supposed to be a game, but the others were getting far too cozy. Sleeping at her house, driving her around, working out with her?

No. Hell no. This is how we’d get fucked over, this was how Manson was going to end up with his heart broken all over again. This was how I…

Shit. This was how I was going to get myself in trouble. Getting these stupid soft feelings for her. Feeling proud of her. Feeling like I wanted to kiss her every damn time I saw her, or make her laugh, or see her smile.

God fucking damn it.

I slipped into a classroom and checked my timer. A little under a minute remained. I stood near the window and peered out at the courtyard below, spotting Vincent as he crept past a few rusted lunch tables. I lifted my gun, locking my aim on him. It was definitely shady of me to take aim before our time was up, but whatever. He shouldn’t have been out in the open.

My phone vibrated in my pocket as the timer ended, and my finger tightened on the trigger.

A sound from the hallway made me freeze, like the clatter of an aluminum can being kicked. I immediately shifted my aim to the doorway, crouching low behind a desk. I slowed my breathing and listened, my twitchy finger ready to fire. Come on…push open the door…

There was a creek, a soft step…then nothing. From down in the courtyard, I heard someone fire once, twice, then three times. But there was no cry of dismay to tell me anyone had been taken out, and I rolled my eyes as I slowly stood up.

I’d meant what I said about having better aim than all of them.

I nudged the door open wide as I crept back into the hall, sweeping my gaze from one end to the other. It could have only been a critter scrambling around, but I stayed low, peering carefully into the next classroom. Nothing, but I did catch a brief whiff of a familiar scent: strawberry and vanilla. That one little sniff made me salivate, and I continued on, my steps quickening.

Where the hell was she?

The better part of my brain told me I was acting like a child. Taking Jess out in this game wouldn’t prove shit, it wouldn’t stop what was happening. It wouldn’t stop the way the others looked at her, and it wouldn’t change the way I felt. Manson would say I needed an outlet, a way to release my frustration. Well, that was exactly what I was doing.

Venting some fucking frustration.