“Hey.”

He glanced to his right. That sophomore was staring at him, her brow furrowed. She licked her lips. “These are all wrong,” she whispered.

Like he needed her to tell him that. He looked back at her test. Ms. Anderson was reading off the answers, one by one, and of course Brainiac had gotten every one right.

Her name was written in perfect script at the top. Layne Forrest.

Why the hell couldn’t he remember a name like Layne Forrest?

He should punch Hulster now, before papers were handed forward.

“Hey,” Layne whispered again.

He glanced over. “What?”

She flinched a little, then whispered, “You got a ninety-two on the test last week. I saw.”

Of course he had. He would have gotten a perfect score, but Nick usually answered some wrong on purpose.

He glared at her, hoping it would make her back down. “Yeah? And?”

It worked. She recoiled and looked back at his paper.

But then he saw her slowly turn her pencil around and start erasing.

She did it subtly, artfully, so her pencil was barely moving, and her eyes were intent on the front of the room.

And then she was writing.

What was she doing?

He couldn’t figure it out. Then Ms. Anderson was calling for the papers to be passed forward and telling them to use the rest of the time as a free period while she reviewed them.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Layne didn’t turn her head, just pulled a slim paperback out of her book bag and started reading.

He flicked a broken piece of pencil her way. It hit her on the arm.

She sighed and looked over. “Seriously?”

“What did you do?”

Her cheeks turned pink again. She looked back at the book. Her voice was so small he almost didn’t hear her.

“You got an eighty.”

She’d fixed his test?

Gabriel couldn’t decide whether he was furious or giddy with relief. “Why?” he snapped. “Why would you do that?”

The substitute cleared her throat near the front of the room. “Is there a problem?”

“No.” Damn, his voice was breaking. He coughed. “Sorry.”

When the bell rang, Layne bolted.

Gabriel wasn’t on four sports teams for nothing. He blocked her in the hall, cornering her against the lockers. She was a tiny thing, at least ten inches shorter than he was.

“Why did you do that?” he said.

She looked up at him, her binder clutched protectively against her chest. Her voice was still soft, quiet, somehow carrying over the students in the between-class rush. “Your brother took your test for you, didn’t he?”

Gabriel felt hot, flushed, even though it was the truth. For some reason it was humiliating to have her figure it out.

He put a hand against the locker beside her head and leaned in. “Are you going to tell anyone?”

She swallowed. “You bully everyone who helps you?”

He snatched his hand away. Was that what he looked like?

“Hey, man.” A voice spoke at his shoulder. “You all right?”