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headshot.
    Professional.
    Model-esque.
    â€œA girl like that?” Brian says. “Every guy in the school wants to do her a favor. She’s like a movie star who gets all her clothes for free because she’s famous and shit. You hand her a T-shirt, you ain’t getting noticed, man. You’re busting your ass for nothing.”
    Adam thinks about it.
    Realizes Brian’s right.
    Shit.
    â€œSo what do I do?”
    â€œWhat I’ve been telling you.” Brian finishes the joint. “Show some balls.”

47.
    Show some balls, huh?
    Okay.
    The next time Mr. Powers hands out a lab assignment, Sara Bryant doesn’t beg and plead to work with Jessie McGill.
    No.
    She flashes Adam that all-American smile and bats her eyelashes. “So, Pizza Man,” she says. “You want to handle this?”
    Adam looks her in the eye. Takes a deep breath.
    ( Show some balls. )
    Here it is.
    â€œYeah,” he says. “I’ll do the assignment.”
    Sara nods like she knew it was coming. Like she’s already counting on the A. “Thank you so much,” she says. “You’re the best.”
    â€œI’ll do it,” Adam says. He’s not finished yet. “But you’re going to pay me for it.”
    What?
    Sara Bryant’s smile disappears. She cocks her head. “I beg your pardon?”
    Adam holds her gaze. Inside, he’s dying. Outside, though, he’s cool.
    Really cool.
    Ice-freaking-cold.
    â€œThink about it,” he tells her. “You know I do good work.You don’t want to do the assignment, but you want the A, don’t you?”
    â€œI’m not going to fucking pay you to do my homework,” Sara Bryant tells him. “Who the hell do you think I am?”
    â€œTen bucks a page,” Adam replies. “And a twenty-dollar bonus if I get us another A.”
    Sara’s glaring at him now. No more flirty smiles. No more big, blue doe eyes, filled with the promise of fantasies brought to life, if only you’ll do Sara Bryant—
    (Sara motherfucking Bryant)
    â€”this favor.
    No. She’s glaring at him now. She’s pissed . “Are you retarded?” she says. “I’d never—”
    Then the bell rings. Catches Sara in mid-rant. Throws her off. She looks around, helpless. Disbelieving.
    Adam stands. “Think about it.”
    And he walks away.
    Boom.

48.
    Balls.
    Adam walks from that physics classroom fully aware of three things:
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  a)   There’s a good chance he’s just turned Sara freaking Bryant into an enemy for life.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  b)   Money for homework is the kind of crazy scheme that gets kids suspended.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  c)   What happened in that classroom is the ballsiest thing he’s ever done. One way or the other, he’s going to make a name for himself (and it ain’t gonna be Pizza Man).
    Adam works harder on that assignment than he’s ever worked before.
    It isn’t easy.
    He’s a smart enough kid, but it’s not like Adam was a model student before he came to Nixon. He spent the bulk of his time getting high. And it’s not like the Higgs residence is a sanctuary devoted to academic rigor.
    Adam’s family has a fifteen-year-old computer sitting smack in the living room. Five feet away, Steph is watching Gossip Girl reruns.
    Chuck Bass is hooking up with two underage debutantes.
    It’s distracting.
    Still, he works hard. Busts his ass. Steph peers at him from the couch. “You never do homework,” she says. “What’s your game?”
    â€œNo game,” he tells her. “Just a little experiment.”
    He slaves away on that paper. Stays up all night. Polishes it off and brings it in on the due date. Sara Bryant, for once, is there early. She watches Adam walk into the classroom—
    (blue eyes fixed on him the moment he walks through the