Chapter 3

I actually believed Beatrice—she really looked miserable.

But the worse she looked, the funnier it was to me.

I walked over, pretending to care, and touched her forehead. "Oh no, Beatrice, are you in that much pain? Is it your period? Come on, I'll take you to the bathroom."

The bus pulled up to a stop. I helped her off and into the restroom.

Once we were alone, I gave her a cold smile and said flatly, "Worthless."

Beatrice, sweating and pale, glared at me. "Sarah, don't celebrate too soon! You'll be crying soon enough!"

I knew what she meant. She was betting on SAT day. Since I had to write everything down, she was sure she'd be able to steal it.

But I wasn't going to let her last that long. She wouldn't even make it to the SAT.

During morning study hall, the teacher started collecting homework.

Beatrice strutted over to me, smug as ever.

She'd been humiliated on the bus, and now, she was itching to see me embarrassed when the teacher checked homework.

But I wasn't about to play her game.

I raised my hand and said to the teacher, "I'm sorry. I stayed up too late studying last night and didn't have time to finish. Can I do it now?"

Beatrice never expected that and was stunned.

Before time rewound, every time my homework vanished, I would get upset and stand there crying while the teacher scolded me, always doubting myself.

That scene had been Beatrice's favorite part of the day.

But now I'd completely broken her rules.

If she wanted me embarrassed, tough luck. I wasn't playing along anymore.

I'd always been a top student, so the teacher was understanding. He frowned but nodded. "Alright. Write quickly, then."

I glanced at Beatrice holding the stack of notebooks and sneered, "Don't just stand there. Hand them in so the teacher can grade. Don't waste everyone else's time."

Beatrice didn't catch on yet. She just looked annoyed that she didn't get to see me humiliated. She handed the stack over.

The teacher flipped through them. When he got to Beatrice's, his face darkened.

"Beatrice, come up here," he said sharply.

Beatrice looked confused as she walked up.

The teacher held up her notebook. "What is this nonsense you turned in?"

Beatrice grabbed it, stunned. The pages were filled with complete gibberish, nothing logical at all.

Thinking about what I'd written last night, I couldn't help laughing under my breath.

Beatrice, on the other hand, was frozen, wide-eyed.

She trusted her system so much that after it copied my answers, she hadn't even checked before turning it in.

She turned to glare at me, and I just put on an innocent face. I ignored her and kept writing my homework.

The teacher tossed her notebook back. "Do it over!"

Beatrice stayed calm as she sat back down.

She wasn't panicking—she still thought her system could copy my answers.

And since I was doing my homework now, she figured she'd get it again.

But of course, I had no intention of letting her off that easily.

From what I could tell, Beatrice's system had two options. It could either make my answers disappear from my homework and test papers and show up on hers, or it could just copy them straight over.

Back before time rewound, my homework didn't vanish every single time. Sometimes it stayed. Same with my test papers—sometimes they were blank, sometimes not.

Beatrice probably didn't want to overdo it and risk getting caught.

Today, both of us were working right under the teacher's nose. I was writing faster than her, so she couldn't just erase mine. That meant she could only copy.

I pulled the same trick I'd tried before. While I worked, I purposely made a few mistakes.

But they weren't really wrong answers. I just swapped them—like writing the answer to question three in the spot for question five, and the answer for five where three was supposed to go.

Maybe she'd get the same wrong answer as somebody else. But messing the answers up in the exact same way? That was way too obvious.

I gave a cold little smile and walked my homework up to the teacher's desk.

Right then, Beatrice's system finished copying, and she hurried up to hand hers in as well.

The teacher flipped through mine, looking pleased. "I knew you had it in you. These problems aren't hard for you. But why weren't you turning in homework for a while?"

Before, I used to try explaining. I told him my homework would vanish.

He never believed me and just got more and more disappointed.

This time, I didn't bother. I just said, "Sorry. I was under too much pressure for a while."

The teacher let it go easily. And when he noticed I'd mixed up the answers for questions three and five, he pointed it out kindly.

I gave an embarrassed laugh. "I was being careless."

The teacher smiled and didn't mind at all. He handed my notebook back to me.

Beatrice, waiting off to the side, hadn't heard any of that.

When she handed hers over, she looked confident. After all, her system had never failed before.

But after a moment, the teacher's smile dropped. He frowned hard at Beatrice.

"Beatrice, what's going on here?" he asked coldly.

Beatrice blinked. "Huh? Did I get something wrong?"