Page 2 of Pucking Good Girl

“My mistake?” I raise my voice. “You shouldn’t have copied. Or at least copied the answers to the multiple-choice questions, but not the essay! The professor talked about Roman inventions we still use today at length during class. All you had to do was listen and you would have been able to write at least enough to get a passing grade.”

Gen snorts. “Right, as if. I play on my phone during that class. FYI, I already took that class last year, and besides it’s boring as fuck.”

It’s actually one of the most interesting classes I’ve ever taken. I love the way Professor Cantucci makes history and art feel like living things rather than old, dusty stuff that belongs in museums.

But I’m not here to argue about history with Gen. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you can’t even cheat right, and now we risk expulsion.”

“We?” Gen arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Victor offered me to redo the quiz, but he wanted something in exchange.” I say with a shudder. “He gave me two weeks to decide. If I don’t give him what he wants, he’ll show the quizzes to the professor and we’re going to be in trouble.”

Genevieve’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Again with this we. I’m fine. I agreed to Victor’s terms, and he’s going to keep my quiz as it is. It’s up to you now to retake yours if you don’t want to be expelled.”

My jaw hits the floor. “You fucked him?”

Gen shrugs. “I gave him head like he asked. And I agreed to meet up with him for sex until graduation. Luckily, he spoke to me first, so I don’t have to retake the quiz.”

I’m so shocked. No, I’m beyond shocked. I’m speechless. “You agreed?”

“Don’t look so disgusted.” Gen shrugs. “Victor saw an opportunity to fuck some hot girls, and he took it. Like I said, I’m in the clear. You do you.”

“What the fuck, Gen?”

Maybe I should have expected something like this from her. Maybe I’m too naïve.

A sudden idea gives me some hope. “But if he can’t report you to the professor, how is he going to report me?”

“Duh,” Gen snorts. “If you don’t retake the test, he’ll give you a failing grade.”

This is fucking nonsense. “But how? I only got one question wrong. He can’t fail me.”

Gen rolls her eyes. “Sometimes, Talia, I honestly wonder how you made it to your senior year of college. You’re as helpless as a newborn baby and way more simple. He’ll just forge one.”

I can’t believe this. “So if I don’t give into his blackmail, he’s gonna find a way to fail me. If I do, I have to rewrite the essay, and you get the grade I earned fair and square?”

“Pretty much.” She nods.

“And what would prevent me from going to the professor and telling her everything?”

She shrugs. “You can try. But it would be your word against her T.A.’s and mine. I’ll say that you wanted to copy from me and when I didn’t let you, you made all of this up to punish me. Professor Cantucci is already on shaky ground because of the investigation into last year’s grading glitch. How do you think she’s going to react to a cheating scandal?”

“So that’s it? You’re going to sleep with the creepy T.A. all year?”

Her gaze hardens. “I’m going to do what I have to so I can graduate and convince my parents to give me back my trust fund. And you’re going to let me copy from you in this history class until it’s over. Trust me, the consequences if you don’t aren’t going to be pretty. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have my hair and makeup to do. Beauty takes time and effort. Not that you know anything about it.”

Gen’s catty cackle is still audible after I close the door to the presidential suite behind me.

This is a nightmare.

Even if I wanted to let Gen copy off me all semester, there’s no way I can go through with having sex with Victor.

Just the idea of his clammy hands on me makes my stomach turn dangerously.

The only reason why I’m not sick again is that my stomach is completely empty and I’m dehydrated to the point that my head is pounding.

What am I going to do?

The only way out of this mess I can think of is to drop this class. But if I do, there’s no guarantee that Victor won’t find a way to accuse me of cheating. And even if he didn’t, there simply is no room in my schedule next semester to make up these credits. Dropping this class would mean not graduating. As it is, I’m lucky my parents had paid my yearly tuition before Dad got injured at work and they lost everything.