Chapter 83 LXXXIII.

Chapter 83 LXXXIII.
George's POV
A strange, unfamiliar lightness settled in my chest, and I felt happier than I had in weeks. The source of my sudden good mood was the realization that I'd been wrong about Izzy all along. She hadn't lied to me; she had a twin sister, Isabella. I felt foolish for doubting her, especially after seeing how deeply she cared for Ethan. Knowing that side of her, there was no way she could have kissed a stranger at that club in Paris.
It all clicked now. The girls were different—night and day, in fact. I should have recognized that from the beginning, but my own preconceived notions had clouded my judgment. Now, all I could do was wait for her return from her trip so I could apologize and finally meet Isabella. If only I'd figured this out sooner.
When I reached my locker, Trisha was already there, hugging her books tightly to her chest.
"George, hey."
I smiled at her as I opened the locker door.
"Hey, Trish. What's up?"
She shrugged, looking troubled and restless. Instant panic set in. I'd completely forgotten the possibility that Trisha might have feelings for me, and I needed to navigate this delicately.
"Izzy left yesterday," she began sadly, "but honestly, given what's happening at school right now, I'm almost glad she's not here."
I frowned, shutting the locker to give her my full attention.
"What happened?"
"A video is spreading all over school. It shows Izzy kissing Ethan at his party. The angle makes it look like she was aggressively throwing herself at him."
My heart sank. I remembered that night; I'd seen them arguing in the hallway, but I assumed I was the only witness. Who had taken that video?
Trisha shook her head, panic rising in her voice.
"Raine has been threatening her. She feels betrayed and assumes Izzy is skipping school to hide. We have to fix this before Izzy gets back."
I raised a brow, skeptical.
"How are we supposed to do that? The video is pretty damning."
Trisha sighed.
"Look, George, I know you hate her, but you have to help me. She was drunk, George. She wasn't in her right mind. That isn't who she is."
I was about to reply when my eyes were drawn to the entrance of the hallway.
My breath hitched.
Izzy stood there, but she looked different.
She was beaming, exuding an undeniable air of confidence. Her mini skirt was impossibly short, and she wore a cropped red blouse paired with blood-red leather boots and a matching bag slung over her shoulder.
She looked beautiful.
In fact, she looked exactly like the girl I had met in Paris weeks ago.
"George, are you even listening to me?" Trisha asked, still looking worried. "You'll help me, right?"
I shrugged, a strange feeling coiling in my stomach.
"I don't think we have anything to worry about. She's here; she can handle it herself."
Trisha frowned, confused.
"Who's here?"
I gestured down the hallway.
"Izzy. I thought you said she was traveling?"
Trisha's head snapped around. Her eyes widened, and she looked completely stunned.
"That's impossible," she mumbled. "Izzy already left. I even saw her off."
I frowned.
"Then explain what she's doing here."
We watched as Izzy walked closer, stopping right in front of us with a wide smile.
"Hey, guys," she said, reaching out to pinch Trisha's cheek. "Hi, Trisha. Miss me?"
Trisha gulped.
"How are you here? You left."
Izzy laughed and threw an arm around Trisha's shoulders.
"I had to come back. Being away from you for even a day is hell."
I couldn't help but scoff.
"Careful, Izzy. Your friends might see you getting cozy with Trisha and get the wrong idea."
She smirked at me, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"Why, George? Are you jealous I'm giving Trish all the attention?"
"You wish," I retorted, then cleared my throat, adopting a serious tone. "We need to talk, Izzy. I have something I need to say to you."
She nodded, looking at Trisha, who was still staring at her in confusion.
"See you later, cutie."
I frowned at her odd demeanor but ignored it, walking ahead toward an empty classroom.
I heard the door shut behind us and turned to find her leaning against it, arms folded, staring at me with intense curiosity.
Suddenly, I felt nervous.
"What's this about?" she asked when I hesitated.
I swallowed hard, trying to shake the inexplicable dread.
"Izzy, I just wanted to apologize for the way I've treated you since I started here. I judged you too harshly, and I hope you can forgive me." I sighed. "I should have believed you about your twin sister all along. I let my pride get the best of me. I just want you to know I believe you now, and I'm sorry."
There was a tense silence.
Then, an amused smile touched her lips, and she tilted her head.
"So, what made you change your mind? You insisted I was lying for weeks."
I shrugged.
"Trisha confirmed the video, but seeing how much you loved Ethan... I figured you wouldn't randomly kiss a stranger in Paris."
To my utter shock, Izzy burst out laughing.
I frowned, confused.
"What is so funny?"
"I can't believe how stupid you are."
"Excuse me?" I snapped, taken aback.
Her laughter died down, and she took slow, deliberate steps toward me until we were standing inches apart. She smelled of jasmine and something intoxicating. Up close, I could see her green eyes perfectly. It was the exact same look from the club—the same confidence, the same aura.
Heat began to rise in my cheeks.
"I expected you to be at least a little intelligent," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.
She trailed a finger down my jawline, and I fought the urge to melt under her touch.
"I had hope in you in Paris. Your eyes held wisdom. I honestly thought you were smart."
I stared into her eyes, which held a mixture of amusement and something cold.
"What are you trying to say?"
She smiled broadly.
"I'm trying to say that I was the girl in Paris. You were right all along. I love playing games," she continued, tracing her finger down my neck, sending shivers through me, "which is why I played you, to see how long it would take for you to fall for my act."
Rage erupted in me.
I gripped her wrist harshly, glaring down at her.
"What the fuck are you playing at, Izzy? Are you telling me you don't have a twin, and you were the girl in Paris? You played me this whole time?!"
She scoffed, pulling her wrist free.
"Don't be so gullible, sweetheart. It's not my fault you're so dense."
I was burning with a mixture of rage and humiliation. Was all of this a lie? Even the sweet side she showed at the party? Was it all just some stupid game to her?
"Why?" I snapped, trying to hide the heartbreak behind my anger. "Why play with my feelings? Was it wrong to like you from the moment we met? Your personality is disgusting."
She chuckled, as if my words meant nothing to her.
"I never expected you to like me, sweetheart. I only said that destiny nonsense to get away from you because you are absolutely not my type." She flipped her hair with a cruel laugh. "You're a terrible kisser, you want commitment, which I despise, and I bet sex with you would've been horrible anyway."
Every word felt like a physical blow, but I forced myself to stand tall.
"The game was fun while it lasted. Bye, sweetie."
She leaned in and kissed my cheek gently before walking out of the classroom.
I had disliked her before, but now, I hated Isadora Ricci with every fiber of my being.
I hated her so fucking much.