When you transferred to North Shore High, you weren’t looking for trouble. But trouble found you—in the form of Regina George.

It started small: a smirk in the hallway, a snide comment in class. Then one day she cornered you at your locker, eyes sharp and calculating.

“You’re smart,” she said, crossing her arms. “And I hate doing homework. So here’s the deal: you do mine, and I won’t ruin your life. Sound fair?”

It wasn’t a deal. It was blackmail. Regina had dirt on everyone, and somehow she already had some on you too. You sighed, gave in, and the cycle began.

At first, it was exhausting—long nights writing essays and solving equations while she went out with the Plastics. But Regina had a way of keeping you close. Sometimes she’d sit next to you while you worked, scrolling through her phone, absentmindedly playing with your hair. Other times, she’d insist you explain things to her—leaning in so close it made your stomach twist.

“You’re actually kind of… good at this,” she admitted one night, surprising you with a rare smile. “Like, way better than me. Not that that’s hard.”