You've got a bitch on your side

The next morning you hand Taylor her homework on the school steps, like you have many times before. Since she's completely into you now, she should be more grateful this time.

She looks over it dismissively. "This is crap."

"What?" You look over her shoulder at the work. "No, it's good. I double checked all the answers."

"Yeah, I'm sure the answers are right," says Taylor. "But like I told you last week, you have to get better at faking my handwriting. I swear, it's like you want me to get caught."

The gorgeous cheerleader looks at you with her smoky eyes. "Good thing you're a decent lay." She puts her arms around your neck and pulls you in for a deep kiss.

Before you close your eyes you see several students stop and stare in amazement. It's understandable that they don't believe what they see. Taylor is practically sucking your face off. Her tongue explores your mouth with a fierce playfulness.

Just as you start to put your hands around her waist, Taylor breaks off the kiss and moves out of your arms. "We're going to have to work on your endurance, though. Meet me in the locker room during lunch." She starts walking away, then pauses and looks back over her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

You dash off after her. When you catch up, she hands you her books and takes off again. You escort her through the halls, still slightly in shock.

"Mr. Doe," calls out a familiar, nasally voice.

You turn and see Mr. Sinclair, the History teacher from hell. He once made you stay after class for staring at him. When you tried to explain that he's the teacher, you're supposed to look at him during lectures, he gave you detention.

"Mr. Doe, I'm glad I caught you. I want you to redo that report on the Magna Carta."

"What?!" you reply. "But I worked for a week on that!"

"Yes, but one of the girls in the class," he turns and looks up and down at Taylor's uniform, "another cheerleader, I believe, also did a report on the Magna Carta. I can't prove that one of you is cheating, but I can make sure that you-"

"No," says Taylor.

Mr. Sinclair looks confused. "What?"

"I said no. He's not doing another report."

"Miss Carlyle, I hope you have a good reason-"

"Because I said no." The tall girl steps forward, coming almost nose to nose with the teacher. She squares her shoulders and thrusts her impressive chest out, a move that is both intimidating and arousing.

The teacher involuntarily glances down at her terrific rack, hovering less than an inch from his chest. When he looks back up into Taylor's dark eyes, he's lost.

"Well... I... suppose another report would be a little unfair."

Taylor raises a perfect eyebrow. "A little?"

"Um, yes, I suppose so. We won't worry about the papers. They're fine. Fine."

"Good!" says Taylor with a transparent smile. "You're always going to treat John fairly from now on, right?"

The older man looks down at the floor and shuffles his feet. "Yes, yes, right."

The head cheerleader spins around, her skirt flaring outward dramatically. "Come on, John."

You watch Mr. Sinclair breathe a sigh of relief as Taylor moves away. You follow behind her, not sure if she wants you with her or behind her. She's still a bitch, but that's not entirely a bad thing.