Loyce looked at Quiana. “The bet still stands, right?”
A strange unease crawled up Quiana’s spine. She couldn’t read Loyce anymore, couldn’t predict her. Still, she kept her voice gentle. “If it makes you feel better, I’m fine with it.”
Byron’s eyes were cold. “Let’s see what kind of score you can get.”
Loyce sat down, picked up her pen, and began under everyone’s gaze.
The dean timed her. Byron stood beside her, scanning the test with open contempt. Even he didn’t understand parts of it. If Loyce scored a twenty, it would be more than he expected.
Quiana glanced over the questions too. The difficulty was so high she could barely even parse what some of them were asking. She couldn’t help saying, “Loyce, don’t be stubborn. We all believe you. Don’t force yourself.”
Byron’s tone was sharp. “She refuses to admit she cheated. This time she’ll lose so badly she won’t be able to deny it.”
Everyone expected Loyce to embarrass herself again, but as the minutes passed, things started heading in an unsettling direction.
The dean and the homeroom teacher looked at Loyce’s paper, and their expressions shifted in a way that was hard to read.
Quiana was good at reading faces; she sensed trouble and spoke up again. “Loyce, I really wasn’t trying to take Keegan from you. You don’t need to be mad at me.”
She was trying to distract her.
Byron frowned. “Quiana’s talking to you. Can’t you hear her? Where are your manners?”
Loyce lifted her eyes. “Do you not see I’m taking a test?”
Byron scoffed. “Like you’ll do well anyway.”

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