"But…" Neil began.

"You remember Pete."

Neil could only nod glumly in agreement, recalling the beating he had sufferedlast year. Stacy had no shortage of friends on the football team. "So," he saidfinally, "You said we had her where we wanted her."

"Yes, I did," Gary agreed.

"How?"

By now, the two boys had reached Gary’s car, a large, black Pontiac. Garyunlocked the doors before answering.

"If she’s cheating now on a math test," he explained, "she must be in troublewith her schoowork. She’s always gotten top marks in math."

"Yeah?" Neil was still confused. "So?"

"So," Gary continued patiently, "It’s a pretty safe bet she’ll cheat again.There’s an English test coming up next week, and I don’t think a littlecheat-sheet will be of much use to her. You have to have read the material." Hestarted up the car and began to pull out of the parking space. Neil thoughtthis over as Gary manouvered the vehicle out of the school parking lot and ontothe road.

"So," he asked finally, "What do we do about it?"

"I’ll tell you when we get to Sharon’s place," Gary answered, "We’ll need herfor what I have in mind."

Sharon was Gary’s friend and sometime girlfriend. Neil was never really sureabout their relationship - he knew that they went out and that theyoccasionally had sex, but he also knew that Sharon did the same with at least acouple of other guys. Gary, however, didn’t seem to mind, so Neil had decidedto take things at face value. He had even made something of a pass at Sharon ata beach party last summer, but had been rebuffed. He was philosophical aboutit; Sharon wasn’t really his type anyway.

The girl in question appeared in the doorway, answering their knock. A yearyounger than the two boys, Sharon was short and heavy, with large breasts andcurly, brown hair. Any suggestion of cuteness, however, was quickly dispelledby her hard face and small, piggy (Neil thought) eyes. If there was any beautythere, it was definitely in the eye of the beholder. She was smoking acigarette as she answered the door.

After a quick greeting (and an obligatory "hello" to Sharon’s mother - proppedup, as usual, in front of the television), Sharon led the two boys down to herbasement bedroom, locking the door behind her (Sharon’s parents were"progressive", and felt that she needed her privacy). Neil accepted a cigaretteand flopped down into a chair while pulling a lighter from his jacket pocket.Gary, who didn’t smoke, just leaned up against the dresser. Sharon lay down onthe bed and propped herself up with a pillow.

"So," she asked, flicking some ash onto the dirty shag carpet, "What are youguys doing here? I thought you had math with Edgar until 3:00."

Neil grimaced. "We did," he answered, "Until he kicked us out."

"What?"

Gary took over the explanation and outlined the sequence of events that had ledto their expulsion from the math class. Typically, Sharon immediately blamedStacy.

"That cunt!" she swore angrily, "Cheating on the test and getting you guyskicked out. She’s really asking for it."

"Yes, she is," Gary agreed quietly, "And I think I know how we can give it toher."

"What do you mean?"

"We know she’s cheating on her exams, right?"

Neil and Sharon nodded in agreement.

"I think that it’s pretty likely she’ll cheat again. I don’t think that she’shad to do it before, so she’s probably way behind in her work. The fact thatshe’s cheating - and that we know she’s cheating - gives us a hold on her; away of blackmailing her, but we need more."

Neil thought this over for a few moments. "Like what?" he asked.

"First, we need concrete evidence of the cheating. No one is going to take ourword over Stacy’s. That’s where you come in, Sharon. Your dad lets you use hisvideo camera and radio - microphone. We’ll use that to trap her."

"And then what?" Neil was starting to become excited at the prospect ofblackmailing Stacy.

Gary fell silent for a moment, looking at his two friends.

"How much," he asked finally, his voice strained and odd, "How much do you hateher? I mean really. How much do you want to see her suffer?"

"Hey man," Neil answered uneasily, "I just want to get back at her for puttingme down last year. I don’t want to, like, beat her up or anything."

"Well, I would," Sharon spat out. "I hate the bitch. Always flaunting herself,and prancing about like she owns the whole fucking school. She deserveswhatever she gets. I’ll do whatever you want to help get her."

Gary looked over a Neil, his eyebrows raised as if to ask are you in?.

"Aw, fuck it," Neil said finally, "I hate the bitch as much as anybody. I’m inall the way."

"Good," Gary nodded, "Cause when we’re through with her, she’ll be the biggestslut in the history of Greenwood High."

The English exam was being held the following Monday, only five days away, sothey had to move quickly. The first step was to get ahold of the exam questionsbeforehand, a proposition which might have proved difficult but for theadvances in electronics technology which had culminated in the computer. Exampapers were commonly written out on school computers and stored in the schoolnetwork, which allowed for "maximum flexibility within the school bureaucracyregarding application of secretarial assets". Incidentally, it also allowedsomeone with the appropriate equipment and skills to break into the system anddownload the required information without leaving any traces of his actions.

Gary, something of a hacker, had broken into the system a number of times inthe past with his home computer and modem and was quite familiar with both thesecurity measures and the layout of information within the network. In the end,it took him all of about twenty minutes to download the appropriate exam paper.Neil and Sharon were impressed.

"Jesus," she muttered, "I wish you’d told me about this before I failed myfucking history test last year."

Gary just shook his head. "I don’t think this is the kind of thing you want todo too often. If I go in often enough, they’ll figure out what’s going on. Iwas saving if for a special occasion." He looked up at his two friends andgrinned maliciously. "And I think this is it."

Frustrated, Stacy slammed the book shut. The exam was coming up in just a fewdays, and there was no way she was going to be ready. She had done her best tocatch up on the first two months' work in a couple of days, but it was almostimpossible for her even to get through the material in time for the test, muchless actually understand it. And there was impossible for her to cheat on thisexam the way she had in math. In that class, she had gotten away with writingout a number of formulas and applications on crib notes, but that just wouldn’twork for an English test. There was too much material to read and assimilate,and without knowing exactly what material the test was going to focus on, shewas forced to try to learn it all in just a few days: a daunting task at best,and almost certainly doomed to failure. She was going to blow the test forsure!

Stacy slumped back in her chair and stared at her pouting reflection in thedesk mirror. It wasn’t fair. How could she be expected to keep up with all ofthis classwork while at the same time attend all the student council meetingsas well as the swim club practices each morning. It was impossible. They justexpected too much of her! She felt her large, green eyes brimming with tears;she wanted to be Homecoming Queen so badly, and now…

She was interrupted from her self-pity by the ring of the phone at her bedside.Sniffling, she got up and crossed the room to answer it.

"Hello?" It was Ashley, her friend from school. Careful to disguise her innerturmoil (Ashley, like all of the other girls in their particular clique, couldsmell weakness the way a shark smells blood; any hint of a problem and it wouldbe all over the group by the end of the next school day, threatening Stacy’sposition), Stacy fell easily into the standard school banter of gossip,innuendo and casual put-downs of other students. Stacy was good at this, andAshley sensed nothing out of place.