I let out a cold laugh. "I've always been at the top of the class. What's this? You brought an audience to watch me give study tips when the media shows up?"

The second I finished, laughter broke out around me.

Paul looked at me like I had just said something pathetic. "Kieran, do you even hear yourself? You only got into Kingsford because you stole Tyson's spot, and now you're strutting around like you earned it? Everyone here knows Tyson is the real genius."

More voices joined in, one after another.

They went on about how Tyson had covered the entire high school curriculum in three months, saying only a genius like him deserved a guaranteed spot at Kingsford.

Paul let out a cold laugh.

"Sucks for you! Even after you stole his guaranteed spot and tried to mess with him, Tyson still got into Kingsford in three months. Now he's engaged to a rich girl, and once he graduates, he's basically set with an executive job. Bet you can't steal that."

I glanced at him. "You're trying so hard to suck up to him. What are you, his pet?"

Paul's face twisted, and his fist came straight at my cheek.

My face swelled almost instantly. I clenched my teeth and looked at Paul. "I'm warning you. I'm supposed to take my photo for the honor wall today."

"Still dreaming, huh?" he shot back. "Let me wake you up!"

He grabbed his thermos and flung hot water at my face. Heat scorched across my skin, and my body locked up from the shock.

Before I could react, he kicked me to the ground.

Tyson stepped forward and crushed my hand under his foot, grinding down hard before crouching in front of me.

"Back to reality yet? If not, we can strip you and drag you into a cold shower."

Paul handed him a pair of scissors.

Tyson smiled as he sliced into my collar. I struggled, but the others pinned me down, their feet pressing into my back and shoulders.

His hand clamped around my throat, his eyes bloodshot.

"Kieran, I was ready to let go of what you did with my spot, but you just had to keep pushing me and rubbing it in my face. I'm obviously the one with the looks and the brains at this school. So why does a thief like you get all the attention?"

He stood and looked down at me.

"Get on your knees and apologize! When the media interviews me later, maybe I'll be kind enough not to mention how you stole my spot."

I let out a low laugh. "Those scores were mine to begin with. You don't need to wait for the results. You can start planning your repeat year now."

Tyson drove his foot into my side. "Still running your mouth, huh? When Kingsford accepts me, I'll report you for cheating myself. Just wait until they pull your offer!"

Right then, someone shouted, "My scores are out!"

The website had been overloaded with everyone checking at once, so most people were refreshing their accounts or waiting for the email to come through.

Within seconds, phones started buzzing all around us.

Everyone got their results.

Everyone except Tyson.

His expression tightened. He glanced at me, then stepped closer, his voice low and tense. "What did you do? Why haven't I gotten mine?"

I smiled. "Why are you asking me about your score?"

One of his followers quickly jumped in. "It has to be in the top 50 in the state. They always delay those."

I almost laughed.

In my last life, my score really had been in the top 50.

But this time, I had written everything in red ink. There was no way that was happening.

Still, everyone bought it instantly and started congratulating Tyson in advance.

He hesitated for a moment, then firecrackers went off outside.

A second later, the principal walked in with a group of staff members, the school band right behind them, horns blaring as they turned it into a full celebration.

It was obvious.

Someone from our school had made the top 50 in the state.

Tyson shot me a smug look. "Kieran, just wait for Kingsford to kick you out."

I frowned slightly.

Would they even bother scoring a test written in red ink? Before I could figure it out, reporters had already rushed in and surrounded Tyson.

They fired questions at him from every direction, asking whether he would choose Kingsford University or Redmont College.

He didn't hesitate. "Kingsford."

When they asked why, he glanced back at me, his gaze sharp, and mouthed silently, "You're finished."

He turned back toward the cameras, ready to soak it all in.

Just then, the smile on his face suddenly froze.

The congratulatory poster in the principal's hands had someone else's name printed on it.

And the people walking straight toward Tyson were police officers.

The two groups approached and then split apart. Everyone present froze, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events.

The reporters quickly realized they had been interviewing the wrong person.

Even so, not one of them left. When cops show up like that, you don't walk away. You wait and see what blows up.

All eyes shifted to Tyson. His face went pale, and he cast me a quick, uncertain glance. Before he could say anything, the officers were already in front of him.

"Are you Tyson Jenkins?" one of them asked, holding up a photo for comparison.

With so many people watching, Tyson could only nod.

"You're suspected of cheating on the SAT. You'll need to come with us."

Tyson froze for a moment, then shook his head.

"I didn't cheat, officer. I-I really didn't." He tried to steady himself. "If someone cheats on the SAT, wouldn't they be caught during the test?"

After a brief pause, he asked, "Did someone report me?"

His gaze shifted toward me, sharp with suspicion.

The students around him quickly spoke up in his defense.

"Officer, Tyson's one of the top students! He wouldn't cheat!"

"Some people in our class have always been jealous of him. He's probably being set up."

"If there was cheating, they would've flagged the test right there, why show up now?"

"Someone's clearly messing with him! You should look into it and clear his name."

The officer didn't budge. "No one reported you. The problem is with your test."

Tyson frowned, clearly lost, like he couldn't piece together how this could happen if no one had turned him in.

Then, his eyes widened.

"Officer, I think you've got the wrong person. My name is Tyson Jenkins, but that's a common name, and I ranked in the top 50 in the state on the SAT. There's no reason for me to cheat."

The students around him backed him up, insisting that his score had even been withheld, which only proved nothing was wrong.

The officer narrowed his eyes. "Have you checked your score?"

"Not yet."

The officer glanced down at the photo again, then looked back up, his tone turning hard. "If you haven't checked it, how do you know there's no problem? This is serious, so don't try to talk your way out of it."

Before Tyson could respond, Paul stepped forward.

"Good thing the website’s working now. Tyson, just pull up your score right here in front of everyone. If you're wrong about him, then everyone here owes him an apology."

Tyson hesitated, unease settling in.

He hadn't taken the test himself; if something had gone wrong, it wasn't something he could fix.

But with everyone watching and speaking up for him, he had no choice but to sit down at the computer and check. His hands trembled slightly as he entered his information.

The screen loaded.

A zero.

"N-No, that's not possible," Tyson stammered, staring at the screen in disbelief.

People around him started talking all at once, saying the score had to be wrong. Even someone who never went to high school wouldn't get a zero.

The officer cut through the noise.

"You cheated, so you don't get a score," he said. "You filled out your entire test in red ink. That alone counts as cheating."

Tyson stood there, frozen. Slowly, he turned to look at me, his eyes wide with shock.

I met his gaze and smiled.