017

Taylor Stern might be the queen bitch of the senior class, young and desirable and cocky well past the point of fault. But as long as my Serenex was in her system, I could knock her over with a feather. I may or may not be able to control what she did tomorrow, but right here, right now, for once in her miserable life, the little bitch was going to do as I said.

"Do you need me to help?" I pressed as she kept hesitating.

"No," she said quickly. "No, I got it."

Last semester, I'd realized she was copying vocab quiz answers off of the boy next to her. She'd denied it, of course. While most students would acquiesce to a deserved rebuke at having been caught cheating red-handed, this was Taylor Stern. She'd never admitted guilt, even after being assigned two nights' detention for her persistence in lying about it. Even tried to suggest the honor roll student might have been copying off of her. So I'd whipped up a second version of the quiz, one just for her, visually similar enough to