SAT Bloodsuckers

Right before the SATs, our class darling, Willow, announced she was going to use a ScoreStealing System to bind our entire senior class together. "I'm just so dumb.

I'm definitely going to bomb the test," she whimpered. "But you guys are different.

You're all AP scholars scoring in the top percentiles." "If each of you just gives me ten points, I can get into the same elite colleges as you guys.

And then I can still be your little mascot. It's just that the system's activation rules are super strict.

All thirty people in the class have to agree." Asking people to sacrifice their own hardearned test scores was insane.

Yet, our classmates practically tripped over themselves to accept the system's binding. In my past life, I couldn't stand by and watch my classmates destroy their futures.

At the very last second before the exams, I rejected Willow's binding. Because of my refusal, the whole class got into Ivy League schools. Only Willow was left behind.

Unable to handle the reality of a rockbottom score, she threw herself into the ocean. My classmates lost their minds. My twin brother, Cole, hated me. He blamed me for killing her.

On the day I was named state valedictorian, he teamed up with the rest of the class. They kidnapped me. They murdered me. Blood choked my throat in my final moments.

I stared up at their twisted faces as they spat their accusations. "We all would have gotten into great schools anyway.

What's the big deal about losing ten points?" "Don't think we don't know your real motive.

You were just terrified that if Willow got those points, she'd steal your valedictorian title! You're a selfish bitch!" "Willow is dead.

You're going to pay for her life." After I took my last breath, my soul hovered. I watched wild dogs tear into my dismembered corpse.

I also watched Willow run crying into their arms. She buried her face in Cole's chest, playing the ultimate victim.

She sobbed about how she shouldn't have been so impulsive, how faking her death just to test their loyalty was a terrible mistake. They weaponized my valedictorian tragedy.

They fabricated evidence, framing me as a ruthless bully. They propped Willow up as my victim, turning her into a massive internet star with millions of followers.

But my eyes snapped open. I was back. Back to the exact moment Willow proposed binding the class. They didn't know the system's hidden exchange rate was ten to one.

To give Willow ten points, it would cost them a hundred of their own. This time, I kept my mouth shut. I was going to watch every single one of them bury their futures.

Let them rot in the dirt. Chapter 1 Hearing those exact words again, goosebumps erupted across my skin.

Willow, the undisputed pet of our senior class, swung the class president's hand. "I just can't bear to leave you guys," she whined, her voice dripping with sugar. "If I don't have you all with me, my whole college life is going to be miserable." "If we stay in the same class in college, I promise I'll learn how to sing and dance.

I'll perform for you guys every single day to keep everyone happy. Please?" My hydro flask slipped.

It slammed against the floor tiles, the sharp crack cutting through her sweet speech. Thirty heads snapped toward me. My twin brother, Cole, locked eyes with me.

His jaw was clenched.

It was the exact same deadeyed stare he had when he swung that hammer down on my skull in my past life. "Sloane, everyone already agreed," he snapped. "What's your problem?

Why are you slamming things?" Willow's eyes instantly welled with tears. "Sloane, I know you've never liked me because you're so smart and I'm not. But I'm begging you.

I really can't survive without everyone." Her tears worked like magic. The room immediately rallied to her defense. "Seriously, Sloane?

Can you be any more heartless?" a guy in the back row chimed in. "You and Cole have the same parents, so how are you so incredibly cold?" "It's just ten points.

We're the AP Honors class. Losing ten points isn't going to stop us from getting into Ivy League schools.

Why do you care if we give them to Willow?" "Stop being such a hater, Sloane. Don't take your petty jealousy out on her!" Willow shrank into herself, playing the ultimate underdog.

She stepped closer to me, looking up through her lashes. "I know grades matter more to you than friendship." "But to me, a test score is just a cold, meaningless number.

Being with all of you is what actually matters." A laugh crawled up my throat. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper to keep it down.

If I hadn't already lived through this, I wouldn't have known the system's hidden catch. The exchange rate was ten to one.

If she asked for ten points, every single person was actually giving up a hundred.

In my past life, the idea of giving away test scores sounded insane to me, so I rejected the system right before the final exams.

Because I did that, everyone kept their real scores and got into elite universities. And my reward? They butchered me.

Their twisted, bloodthirsty expressions from my final moments flashed before my eyes. I looked at them now and smiled.

A slow, calm smile. "I agree." I held Cole's stare. "In fact, I think ten points isn't enough.

We should each give Willow twenty points." A hundred points lost might still leave them with decent enough scores for an average state school.

But if they were all so eager to be martyrs, they could kiss fouryear universities goodbye. Let the whole class go to community college together.

Whispers broke out across the room. "Twenty points?" "Isn't twenty points pushing it?

That could drop us down a whole tier of schools." Cole stepped right into my personal space, his eyes narrowed into slits. "Sloane, what kind of game are you playing?

Since when do you have the heart to give Willow anything?" My spine turned to ice. In my past life, Cole loved hanging around Willow, but he at least pretended to tolerate me.

The sickening crunch of the hammer against my skull echoed in my ears. The sickening crunch of the hammer against my skull echoed in my ears.

Back then, as blood poured into my eyes, I actually thought he was my last lifeline.

My fingers had dug into his wrist, slick with my own blood. "Cole, please… I'm your sister…" I tried to use our blood tie to make him stop.

His mouth had twisted into a sneer. "Sister? That's exactly why you need to die. Sloane, you didn't just get in Willow's way." "You're blocking my inheritance.

I heard Mom and Dad talking about the trust fund. A girl getting the exact same cut as me? You deserve to rot." The hammer came down again. And again.

The truth died in my mangled throat. Our parents had protected him too well. He lived his whole life oblivious to the fact that he was just a charity case. An adopted orphan.

Now, watching the raw, unhinged hostility bleeding through his stare, the puzzle pieces clicked. Cole remembered.

He had come back too. "Answer me!" He stepped closer. "Don't think I don't know you're plotting something. Since when do you give a damn about Willow?" Smack.

I grabbed a heavy AP Calculus textbook and slammed it directly into the side of his head. Dead silence dropped over the classroom. Cole stumbled back.

His jaw dropped, his fists curling into whiteknuckled boulders at his sides. "Oh my god… Cole!" Willow gasped, rushing to his side. "Sloane, what is wrong with you?

Are you psycho?" "I can discipline my own brother however I see fit." I stared him down. "You think you can talk to me like that, Cole?" A muscle feathered in his jaw.

He wanted to snap my neck, I could see it in his eyes, but he needed my points for his precious Willow. He swallowed the rage.

I rolled my eyes and shifted my focus back to the crying girl. "So?

Have you thought about the twenty points?" "We all know your SAT practice scores are barely breaking eight hundred.

The only reason you're even in AP Honors is because everyone lets you cheat off them." "If you seriously want to get into the same Ivy League as us, twenty points is the safe bet.

Just leave a couple of sections blank on your exam, and boom. Easy admission." She stiffened at the cheating callout, but greed quickly swallowed her embarrassment.

Her eyes lit up. "That's actually a great idea! You really agree, Sloane?" I nodded. Hard. "Absolutely." She didn't waste another second.

She immediately started making her rounds, begging the rest of the class. It didn't take long. She was the mascot, after all.

Even at twenty points, a little whining and pouting got everyone to cave. "I'm counting on all of you for the SATs tomorrow!" Her eyes sparkled.

The sweetest words wrapping around the most venomous scheme. Using the entire class's shot at a real future to pave her own way to the Ivy League.

Before leaving campus, I walked straight to the guidance counselor's office. I reclaimed my guaranteed early admission spot to MIT.

In my last life, I had been naive enough to reject it, wanting to prove I could ace the SATs on my own. Idiotic.

The moment I signed the final confirmation paperwork, the phantom weight crushing my chest dissolved.

That night, right before test day, Cole cornered me in the hallway of our house. "Sloane, you better agree tomorrow," he whispered, his tone lethal. "Otherwise, it's going to end very, very badly for you." A cold smirk touched my lips. "Same to you." It was undeniable now.

The monster standing in front of me had clawed his way back from the future, just like I had. The next morning, I sat at my designated desk in the testing center.

A glowing blue text box materialized in my line of sight. [Hello, Host.

Do you consent to providing Willow with 20 points of assistance?] The smirk returned, sharper this time. "I'm willing to give her my entire score.

Give her 200 points." A row of glitching question marks pulsed on the screen before the text shifted. [Request acknowledged. However, your official SAT score will result in a zero.

Do you confirm?] "Confirm." Chapter 3 I filled out every single bubble on the Scantron sheet. A zero didn't matter. My early admission to MIT was locked in.

Willow wanted a high score? With what I just fed the system, a perfect 1600 wouldn't even begin to cover it.

After the final bell rang, Willow confirmed the score transfer with her system. But the system clearly only told her that everyone agreed.

It left out the little detail about me dumping 200 points onto her tab. A flush crept up Willow's neck. "Yes!

I knew you guys loved me the most." "Meeting you all was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me.

Once we get to college, it's my turn to be the mascot and take care of you guys!" The entire class ate it up.

Cole didn't take his eyes off her for a single second. "So, where do you want to go?" he asked. "We're following you." "Exactly. Wherever you go, we go." "Harvard is great, Willow.

Have you thought about it? Stanford is awesome too.

If you want, I can tank my application a bit so we end up at the same tier." Willow tilted her head, pretending to weigh her options. I turned my back to them.

A sharp breath hissed through my teeth. Tanking their applications? Harvard and Stanford? Right. This class was full of garbage humans, but their academic records were flawless.

They were used to having their pick of the Ivy League. Too bad Willow wasn't the innocent little flower they thought she was. I walked out of the school gates.

The day the SAT scores dropped, these people were going to feel what it was like to plummet straight into concrete.

Three years of AP classes, extracurriculars, and sleepless nights. All of it, about to be incinerated by one girl.

When I got home, my parents had graduation gifts waiting on the kitchen island. Two identical stacks of the latest, fully spec'dout MacBooks and iPads.

One pile for me, one for Cole. Cole wasn't home yet.

I ran a finger over the smooth aluminum box. "You guys really do treat Cole like your own flesh and blood." My parents exchanged a look.

The shift in my tone didn't slip past them. "What's going on, Sloane? You used to throw a fit if anyone even mentioned his adoption.

Why bring it up now?" my mom asked. "He's part of this family. Your father and I treat you both equally." I let the silence stretch for a beat. "What if Cole gets ambitious?

What if he decides he wants to go after my share?" My parents built a multimilliondollar real estate empire from the ground up. They weren't stupid.

They caught my implication immediately. My dad's jaw set. "If he stays in his lane, he gets half the trust fund.

If he ever tries to cross you, I'll strip him of the family name and throw him on the street." The knot in my chest loosened.

Just as I predicted, Cole walked through the front door a few hours later.

His eyes landed on the identical tech stacks, and his face dropped. "Mom, Dad, Sloane doesn't even know how to use half this stuff.

Giving her a prolevel setup is a total waste." He reached for my stack. "Just give me hers.

I have a friend who could really use it." Thanks to my earlier groundwork, my dad's expression darkened. "No." He stepped between Cole and the boxes. "We provide for both of you equally.

Drop it, Cole." Cole stiffened. He pulled his hand back, shooting a venomous glare in my direction.

Even if Willow didn't exist, this rabid dog would have eventually gone for my throat. I stared right back at him. Not in this lifetime.

Chapter 4 Ever since the SATs ended, Willow had been partying nonstop. My social feeds were flooded with their group photos.

Willow's family was broke, but she had Cole acting as her personal ATM, funding her entire lifestyle.

Spending my family's money, yet she still had the nerve to jump in my face. "Sloane, are you sure you don't want to hang out with us?" she pouted, twisting a strand of hair. "We're going to be classmates for the next four years.

Isolating yourself like this isn't good. Are you mad at me or something?" I hadn't done a single thing wrong.

Yet, two sentences of her toxic victimplaying, and the entire class had their pitchforks aimed at me again.

Watching them point their fingers, I dumped a bucket of ice water over the hype. "Scores drop tomorrow. Can you guys really stomach partying right now?" The room went dead silent.

Confidence or not, waiting for SAT scores was nervewracking hell.

The next morning in the computer lab, dark circles bagged under everyone's eyes, but manic energy buzzed through the room. "My mom promised if I get a 1500, she's paying for a monthlong backpacking trip across Europe!" "I need a top percentile to leverage a fullride scholarship.

It's the only way to clear my dad's gambling debts." "Same.

My dad swore if I break a 1550, he'll finally divorce his mistress and remarry my mom." "I was easily tracking for a 1580 on practice tests. Even minus twenty points, that's a 1560.

My mom already bought her wedding dress." A laugh slipped past my lips. Every single one of their pathetic little dreams was about to shatter.

Not just shatter—they were about to fall into an abyss. Someone slammed their hand on a desk. "What the hell is so funny?" "Sloane, I am so sick of your superiority complex!

You've hated Willow since freshman year just because she doesn't have a trust fund. We get it. You're the rich girl." "The rest of us are just peasants, right?

Do us all a favor and don't apply to the same colleges as us. Looking at your face makes me sick." Their barking held zero weight. I gave a slow, detached nod. "Don't worry.

I never planned on going to the same schools as you." Cole stepped up, fanning the flames. "Sloane, drop the attitude.

At home, you complain that our classmates reek of poverty." "You look down on them because they don't score as high as you. But could you at least pretend to be decent in public?

You're out of line." His lie ignited the room. Willow stepped forward, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Sloane!

Money and test scores aren't everything in life." "Networking is your real capital.

If you alienate everyone, all the money and good grades in the world won't save you from being a loser." I checked my watch. The portal was open.

The thrill of execution drowned out the noise of their complaints. "Scores are up." The words triggered a stampede. They scrambled to their computer stations.

Keyboards clattered frantically as they typed in their student IDs. I stood at the back of the lab, claiming a perfect vantage point to watch the monitors.

I counted down in my head. Three. Two. One. Chapter 5 "What the actual fuck?! A 940?! Is this a joke?!" "The system has to be glitching!

I was tracking for a 1580, how the hell do I have a 980?!" "Wait, me too. I barely broke 900.

This is impossible." Cole's face lost all its color, but his head instantly snapped toward me. "Sloane. What's your score?" Right. He had competed with me since we were kids.

What was my score? I was already guaranteed early admission to MIT. I ignored him. Instead, I let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. "How is it possible that everyone bombed so hard?

With scores in the 900s, forget the Ivy League. You guys won't even get into a decent community college." "Our class average is usually in the 1500s.

Did everyone just collectively choke?" Panic over their ruined futures wiped out their crusade against me.

A girl collapsed into her chair, sobbing hysterically. "No, this can't be real. I demand a rescore." "My whole family was banking on me.

I couldn't have bombed this badly." "If I bring this score home, my dad is going to break my legs.

What do I do?" "Even giving Willow twenty points shouldn't have wrecked us this much." Amidst the wailing, Willow's facial muscles twitched.

She was biting her inner lip so hard to suppress her smile that her face looked twisted. Exactly as I thought. She never planned on going to the same schools as them.

The classmates who babied her for three years were nothing but stepping stones.

I leaned against a desk, letting my words drop like a bomb. "Everyone's score dropped by at least two hundred points. It almost feels like you didn't give her twenty points.

It feels like you gave her two hundred." Thirty heads snapped toward Willow in unison. The scholarship student whose dad had gambling debts marched right up to her.

His voice strained. "Willow. What did you get?" With so many bloodshot eyes fixed on her, her composure finally cracked.

She threw her arms over her monitor. "I—I haven't checked yet." "Bullshit!" He shoved her arms aside and yanked the monitor toward him.

His eyes locked on the screen, and he gasped. "Willow's score isn't showing.

It's blocked off!" She might be their precious mascot, but nobody could stomach watching the girl they pitied suddenly skyrocket past them—especially using their own blood and sweat.

The atmosphere turned suffocating.

I gladly twisted the knife. "I heard the College Board only blocks scores if you hit the absolute top percentile in the state, just to verify for national merit." Willow's lips stretched into a massive, uncontrollable grin.

Her voice shook with pure adrenaline. "I—I'm in the top tier!" "I can get into Harvard!

With a percentile this high, I might even be the state valedictorian!" The scholarship student's voice dropped to a low, dangerous register. "How does a bottomfeeder like you pull a perfect score, while the rest of us tanked?" The same people who worshipped the ground she walked on started circling her. "Yeah, Willow.

Did something glitch? Why did we all bomb while you're suddenly a national scholar?" A room full of idiots.

The College Board didn't block her score because she was in the top percentile.

They blocked it because her stolen points broke past the 1600 maximum limit, triggering an automatic system flag for impossible data.

Chapter 6 Willow shrank back, deploying her usual victim routine to deflect the interrogation. "I don't know what happened. Maybe everyone just choked under pressure," she whined.

She forced out a choked sob. "Don't you guys want me to succeed? Was all your kindness fake?

Do you just want to see me fail?" Faced with the total annihilation of their futures, a few still wavered at her tears, but others snapped. "What is the point of crying now?" a guy yelled, slamming his palm onto a desk. "If you earned those points yourself, nobody would care if you were valedictorian.

But you stole them from us!" "Twenty points a person. From thirty people, that's at least six hundred points!

Even ignoring that, how did we all drop an average of two hundred points?! Willow, you—" I leaned against the back wall, enjoying the show.

Cole, who had been silent, shoved his way to the front. His jaw was locked tight. "This isn't Willow's fault." He shifted his gaze directly to me. "Someone else set us up.

Sloane, you might be my sister, but I can't cover for you after this." He turned to the crowd, pointing an accusing finger at me. "I heard her whispering to some 'system' at home last night.

Just weird, crazy stuff. She's the one who stole everyone's scores!" A laugh scraped the back of my throat. Cole would sell his own soul to protect his interests.

With two sentences, he redirected the firing squad right back at me. The crowd surged forward. "Sloane!

You're already loaded, why the hell are you screwing us over in secret?!" "Is it that hard to let normal people have a chance?!" "Give me my points back, or I swear to God I'm taking you down with me!" I held my ground, meeting Cole's stare. "You pull lies out of thin air pretty easily.

Where is your proof that I took the scores?" With every eye locked on me, no one noticed the greedy gleam in Willow's eyes.

Desperate to cement the frame job, she pointed at the computers. "The easiest way to prove it is to check your score!" Cole stepped closer, boxing me in. "Exactly.

Show us your portal." "We all scored in the 900s. If your score is blocked too, it proves you stole our points!" The crowd echoed him. "Yeah! Log in!

If you stole my score, I'll end you!" I gave a slow nod. Pulling out the chair at the nearest computer, I typed in my student ID and hit enter for the whole room to see. "Zero?

A zero?" "Her score is lower than everyone's… Maybe she really didn't do it…" Cole froze.

His eyes darted rapidly across the screen. "How…" To keep the performance going, I gripped the edge of the desk, swaying slightly as if the zero had knocked the wind out of me.

While they stared at the monitor, I slipped my phone out and fired off two quick texts under the desk.

Less than five minutes later, a chaotic stampede of footsteps echoed down the hallway.

A swarm of people holding cameras and microphones shoved their way through the computer lab doors. "We heard this year's state valedictorian is in this class!

Which one of you is Willow?" "Willow, can we get an exclusive interview?" Chapter 7 The same classmates who once banded together to steal my merit scholarship and hand it to Willow were dead silent now.

Funny how they only felt the sting when it was their own futures bleeding out on the floor. But Willow wasn't about to let a spotlight go to waste.

She shot up from her chair, waving her hand frantically. "I'm Willow! I'd love to do an interview!" The reporters swarmed the room.

A dozen camera lenses shoved right into her face. "Willow, as the state valedictorian, how did you motivate your peers?" "Do you have any study secrets you can share?

You're the absolute pride of our district right now!" With every question the press threw at her, the faces of our classmates turned a shade darker.

She rambled on, shamelessly making up study routines on the spot. But when she noticed the murderous glares aimed at the back of her head, she smoothly pivoted.

She threw the target onto my back. "Honestly, my score was just a normal performance for me," she said, flashing a sweet, humble smile. "But my classmate, Sloane?

Her score was unbelievable. Guess what she got!" The reporters exchanged confused looks. "Did Sloane get a perfect 1600 too?" Willow let out a breathy giggle. "Perfect score? No!

She got a literal zero!" "I worked so hard to pull up our class average, and she just dragged the whole thing into the mud. It is kind of weird, though.

Sloane always had great grades before.

How did she bomb the biggest test of our lives?" Right in front of the flashing cameras, she dropped the poison. "Makes you wonder… was she just cheating this whole time?" A microphone was practically shoved down my throat.

Before I could even open my mouth, Cole let out a heavy, theatrical sigh. "Sloane, I warned you," he said, shaking his head. "I told you to stop sneaking out and messing around with those dropouts.

Are you happy now?" "You ruined your life. How are you going to explain this to Mom and Dad?" A cold smile tipped the corner of my mouth.

Cole really never missed a chance to stomp on my neck. I held his gaze. "That's a pretty heavy accusation to pull out of thin air. Who exactly was I messing around with?

Give me a name." I took a single step toward him. "You're eighteen now, Cole. Spewing baseless rumors on camera is grounds for a defamation lawsuit." Cole's jaw snapped shut.

He swallowed hard, the fake concern vanishing from his eyes. Right on cue, our homeroom teacher burst into the computer lab, practically out of breath.

She might have been confused as to how Willow, of all people, became the valedictorian, but she was eating up the glory anyway. "Congratulations, Willow!" she beamed. "Since you're the top scorer in the state, the Ivy League recruiters are going to be knocking down our doors any minute now." "Have you thought about which school you want to pick?

What major?" Willow puffed out her chest. "I want to get into the best premed program possible. I just want to give back to society." The teacher looked like she was about to cry.

The reporters immediately went live. "We are standing here live with the state's top scholar!

We're expecting recruiters from Harvard and MIT to arrive at any moment for an allout bidding war!" Safely out of the camera's frame, I let the smile fully take over my face.

A state valedictorian whose stolen score broke past the 1600 maximum limit. Now that was a first. The minutes ticked by. Everyone waited with bated breath.

Half an hour later, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Willow frantically smoothed down her skirt. The reporters shoved their cameras toward the door. "They're here!

They're here!" But the people who walked through the double doors weren't Ivy League recruiters. It was the school principal.

And trailing right behind him were four uniformed police officers. Chapter 8