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...