Wicked Games Academy

CHAPTER 38

I pulled Clive aside and showed him the letter.

"What's going on? It's been months and now he's provoking me again?" It was winter again and warm nights together had finally let me forget the life we lived when we were seventeen. Neither children nor adults.

"He's provoking both of us," Clive whispered. "I'll be working alone, in a room without a roommate..."

"I'll have a different partner, though! I don't want that!" I begged. I couldn't stand thinking of even waking up with any other boy but Clive's calm smile.

"Neither do I," he whispered and then looked at me.

We had the same idea from the faces we both were making.

"Tonight we are going to see him," Clive said my thought.

"Yes, it's about time we stopped facing one another."

That night we had no coat or mask left from last year, so we had to walk down after midnight, at one, to see him.

He allowed us to walk in and I shakily entered. The office carpet had been changed to an ethereal green, which stood out from the drab room, maybe on purpose.

"Good late evening to you two gentlemen. I believe my letters were sent, what do you two want to tell me?" The Headmaster's apathetic voice made me feel ashamed but most of all, pissed.

But he was right. He had told us if we quit we would no longer stay partners, it was there in bold print all along and I stood there.

"What can I do to make you change your mind?" I asked.

"Nothing, Rottings. Your name disgusts me. When your father brings down His Majesty, I will leave this academy. Be thankful you have not been expelled for treason yet!" He hissed, yet still seated with his white mask covering his face. I could not see the frown line on his forehead, only the tone of his voice suggested animosity.

"I don't know what my father is planning," I whispered.

"I don't know, I didn't do it, I didn't mean to; are those the same thoughts as you killed Vic?"

"No!" I shouted. "Must you blame me when you set us up? Didn't you wish they could kill me truthfully?"

A smile appeared on the Headmaster's thin lips, having struck my nerve. I was about to argue when Clive held my hand. I turned to him and his face was different; I saw the regret in his eyes, how much he wanted to leave, too. There was no more mask on us anymore.

"We will not separate." I was calm and stood there, watching his lower half of a face move. He parted his lips.

"You two will. It will be a spectacle. Now leave."

Clive and I left, and my legs had weakened to the point I went back to our room and collapsed, crying on my bed. Clive snuggled close and the two of us cried, but Clive's hands were shaking.

Even though I was the one who killed Vic, Clive seemed just as guilty—if not more. I didn't understand it at that time.

I sat up and traced my hands on his jawline and ears.

"Let's runaway," I said to Clive. "If I have to be separated from you, I don't want to be a knight."

Clive watched me, green eyes much darker than the earring showing between his hair, and then he combed back his soft curls and sat up too.

"I don't want to be separated, too." Clive seemed melancholic—like we were separating and it was the end.

"So let's run away!" I said. "No?" He was always the spontaneous one, the one who said yes and pulled me out of my slump.