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door).
    â€œYou do the assignment?” she asks him.
    Adam shows her the paper. “Uh-huh.”
    Sara Bryant visibly relaxes. “Good work,” she says. She smiles at him. Almost—
    (but not quite)
    â€”the all-American smile. “I knew you’d come through.”
    â€œBest paper I ever wrote,” he tells her. He shows her the title page. Keeps it just out of her reach.
    Acceleration, by Adam Higgs , it reads.
    Sara frowns. “What is this? Where’s my name?”
    â€œFigured I did all the work, I should get the credit, right?” Adam tells her. “Five pages times ten bucks a page is fifty bucks. You ready to deal?”
    Sara stares at him. The smile is gone. “This is extortion,” she says, glancing at Mr. Powers’s desk. “This is bullshit. This is—”
    â€œThis is capitalism,” Adam tells her. He’s struggling to keep the shake from his voice. “You don’t want to do the work, and you know it. I can get you the grades. You can spend your time doing whatever it is that you do. It’s a win-win. Think about it.”
    Sara looks around the room again. She looks:
    helpless
    frustrated
    mad.
    â€œLet me see the paper,” she says. Adam hands it over and she flips through. “You swear this is good stuff?”
    â€œBetter than a zero,” Adam tells her.
    â€œYou know you’re a real asshole?”
    He shrugs. “Whatever it takes.”
    She flips through again. Hands it back. “Five bucks.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œFive bucks a page.”
    At the front of the room, Powers starts picking up the assignments. Adam gives Sara his poker face. “Ten bucks a page. Plus twenty dollars for the A.”
    Sara says nothing. Sara thinks it over. Sara watches Powers coming up through the aisles.
    This is it , Adam thinks.
    She takes the bait
    or
    she rats me out.
    He waits. Can’t breathe. Watches Sara as Powers gets closer.
    Come on , he’s thinking. Come on, come on .
    Powers is two desks away. Sara swears. “Fine,” she says. “Ten bucks a page, you little shit.”
    Adam doesn’t flinch. “Cash,” he says. “Now.”
    Sara glances at Powers again. Reaches into her purse and pulls out three twenties. Shoves them into Adam’s hand. “Happy? Put my fucking name on the fucking paper, Pizza Man.”
    Adam takes another copy of the paper—this one printed with Sara’s name—from his backpack. Hands it to Powers in the nick of time. Then he takes out his wallet and pockets thetwenties. Hands her a ten-dollar bill. Gives her his best approximation of an all-American smile.
    â€œThere you go,” he tells her. “Thank you, come again.”
    Balls.

49.
    Balls or no, Adam sweats that assignment.
    Adam’s terrified.
    What if Sara Bryant rats him out?
    What if Powers somehow grows wise to the scheme?
    What if?
    What if?
    What if?

50.
    Mr. Powers hands the assignment back. “Even better than the last one.” He lets his eyes wander down Sara Bryant’s body. “Glad to see you’re waking up, Ms. Bryant.”
    Sara gives him that smile, thanks him, waits until he’s moved along. Then she checks the grade on the paper. “Holy shit.” She flashes Adam the grade.
    Holy shit is right.
    92 percent.
    Holy shit.
    â€œTwenty bucks,” Adam tells her. He’s earned that bonus. Sara’s smile wavers a little, but she reaches for her purse.
    â€œTwo things,” she tells Adam as she hands over the money. “One, you don’t tell anyone we’re doing this.”
    â€œDuh,” Adam says.
    She pauses. “One more thing.”
    â€œI’m not taking you to prom,” Adam tells her.
    Sara makes a face. “That’s not actually funny.” She looks down at the twenty. “We do this again next time, okay? Same deal.”
    â€œSo long as you pay me,” Adam tells her.
    Sara hands