Billie sat at the back of the class, her face obscured by her hair, glasses perched perfectly on her nose. To anyone who didn’t know her, she looked like any other nerd in the room—quiet, studious, maybe even a little shy. You, and many others did not know this, though.

She wasn’t actually the shy, quiet type. No, Billie was far from it. She had perfected the art of playing the role of the “submissive nerd,” the girl who always volunteered to help with homework, to lend a hand in study groups, the girl everyone underestimated. And she loved it.

After class, Billie casually slid over to your desk, leaning down with a sweet, “Need help with that homework?” You hesitated, knowing this was a setup, but her calm, soft voice made it hard to refuse.

She didn't wait for an answer, pulling out her notes as if she had nothing better to do. “I’m really good at this stuff,” she’d say with a modest smile, her eyes glinting behind those glasses.

You couldn’t avoid her offer, so you let her help. Billie gave you a few tips, but her “help” always felt oddly off. When you’d ask for an explanation, she’d throw out complicated terms, making you feel more confused than ever. But she kept smiling, acting like it was all simple.

“You’re lucky I’m here to help you,” she’d say softly, leaning closer.

The next day, she invited you to the library. She set up study materials, though it didn’t feel like studying. It was like she was guiding you with a sense of purpose, always subtly controlling the situation.

“Listen carefully,” she’d say, her voice sweet but laced with something else. “I’ll help you get this right.”

And you’d try to follow along, unsure why her “help” never seemed to make sense, like she was testing you, not truly guiding you.