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Mr. Osterhaut’s secretary—or office manager or whatever she is—greets us and sends us into his office. The middle-aged man with the skinny legs and large gut sits up straighter as we enter, his gaze flicking from me to Mr. Arndt to me again.

The expression on his face makes me think he’s already decided he knows what this is about, and it makes me want to scream. Jesus, is the concept of innocent until proven guilty just a myth? Does it even exist anymore?

“Harlow.” Osterhaut sighs. “I was hoping I wouldn’t see you back here so soon.”

“Talk to him.” I jerk my head toward Mr. Arndt as we both take seats in front of the principal’s desk. “He made me come.”

“Yes, I did.” Mr. Arndt opens up the worn leather briefcase he brought with him, taking out a small sheaf of papers and sliding them across the desk. There’s a large C- written in red ink at the top, and my eyes bug out as I look at it.

“What? So now I’m in trouble for getting bad grades too? I studied, Mr. Arndt. I swear, I did. I just—”

The principal picks up the quiz and flips through the pages before glancing back at the man beside me. “What am I looking at here?”

“That exam has all the correct answers… for a quiz I gave last year,” Mr. Arndt tells him. “I changed several of the questions before giving the test this year, but obviously the wrong answer key was used. So even though it’s not a good grade, it was still achieved through cheating.”

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. I’m gonna kill Savannah.

I thought she was done with this shit. I thought she’d learned her damn lesson—but maybe since the school admins have cracked down so hard against overt bullying, she felt the need to return to a tried and true method.

And the shittiest part is, it looks like it worked.

“I didn’t have an answer key,” I say in a flat voice, looking at Mr. Osterhaut because I’m not sure I can keep my cool if I look at my teacher. “I studied. Well enough to pull a better grade than that”—I gesture to the papers in front of him—“but probably not enough to get a perfect grade on any version of the test. Somebody tampered with it.”

“You were warned about this once before, Ms. Thomas,” Osterhaut says, shaking his head. “This is not the kind of thing we can let slide.”

“I’m not—I’m not asking you to let it slide! I’m asking you to believe me when I tell you I didn’t cheat. Why do you think I’d be stupid enough to do something like that twice?”

Mr. Osterhaut blinks at me, his lips pursed thoughtfully. “I know you’ve been having a difficult time, Ms. Thomas. But as I said before—”

“Don’t kick me out. Please. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’ll find some way to…”

Kick Savannah’s ass.

The principal shakes his head. “That’s what you said last time.”

“Well, I meant it last time too!” I suck in a breath and hold it for a three-count, and when I speak again, my voice is more even. “Please, give me one more chance. I’ll retake that test. I’ll take all my exams in a locked room if you want me to. I’ll take the C minus, even though I know I did better than that.”

Osterhaut grimaces, running a hand over his face. Then he sighs. “All right, Ms. Thomas. I’ll give you one more chance. But this is well and truly your last, so please take it seriously. You and Mr. Arndt can make arrangements for future tests to make sure you don’t have access to any outside materials.”

I glance over at Mr. Arndt, but although he nods, he doesn’t look thrilled about this idea. It probably just makes more work for him, and I have a feeling he was hoping to dump this problem in the principal’s lap and wash his hands of it.

“Yes, sir,” he murmurs.

“Thank you,” I add, even though it grates on me that I had to beg for leniency when I didn’t do anything wrong in the first place. I have a feeling Mr. Osterhaut only has a few shits to give, and I just used up all my favors fixing a problem I didn’t create.

The principal nods. “This has been a… trying semester for everyone. Iris Lepiane’s death has shaken everyone up, but order and rules still have to be maintained. No one gets a free pass.”

His voice softens a little when he mentions Iris’s name, and I wonder how well he knew her. She was certainly no saint, but I don’t think she was the type who probably got sent to the principal’s office very often.

Osterhaut dismisses us after another few minutes, and Mr. Arndt nods curtly to me before heading back toward his classroom. I think there was a time when he liked me despite my flaws, when he liked my spunk or sass or something. But same as with Mr. Osterhaut, I’m pretty sure I’ve used up all of his indulgence by now.

I’m late for Calculus, so I rush to class. Lauren and Andrea share their notes with me, and I do my best to focus on the second half of the lecture. I make it through History too, and as soon as eighth period ends, I’m the first one out the door. I know what class Savannah has last, so I hustle up to the second floor and catch her just as she’s emerging from the room.

She’s on her own, without the backup of Trent or her usual posse, who are probably all waiting for her downstairs. Before she can step into the stairwell, I walk up behind her, grab her elbow in a firm grip, and drag her into the girls’ bathroom midway down the hall.

“Hey! What the hell?” she sputters as the door slams behind us.

The only reason I got her in here that easily in the first place is because I took her by surprise. As soon as she realizes who’s got a hold on her, she struggles out of my grasp. She moves toward the door, but I put my body in the way, physically blocking her.

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