Chapter 1

Only a hundred days left until the SATs, and the entire school was gathered for the honors assembly.

I, the girl who had held the number-one spot in our grade for three consecutive years, was standing on the second-place tier of the podium.

The girl who snatched the crown from me was Serena Vance—the school's resident "it-girl" who usually ranked tenth from the bottom.

"Well, Chloe, I guess the legendary top student isn't all that after all," Serena sneered into the microphone, taunting me right in front of the entire student body and faculty.

Under the stage, the crowd erupted into mocking jeers and whispers.

I clenched my fists, utterly bewildered.

It wasn't until after school that day, while hiding in a bathroom stall, that I heard her talking to thin air.

"System, are you sure I'll score exactly thirty points higher than Chloe on the actual SATs too?"

A cold, mechanical voice echoed through the empty restroom.

"Rest assured, Host. The link to Chloe Miller has been successfully established. No matter what she scores, you will always score exactly thirty points higher than her."

I clamped my hand over my mouth, barely holding back a laugh.

So, she was nothing but a dirty little thief with a cheat code.

If you want to score thirty points higher so badly, Serena, I’m happy to oblige.

I turned on my heel and walked straight into the principal’s office to sign the early admission agreement I had previously rejected.

Once I accepted the direct admission, my SAT score would be registered as a flat zero.

Serena, enjoy your grand score of thirty on the SATs.

"Chloe, look who finally fell from grace."

The moment I stepped back into the classroom, Serena’s main lackey, Naomi Taylor, kicked my chair over.

My insulated mug clattered to the floor, spilling hot water everywhere.

I stared at them coldly.

Serena was lounging on my desk, her long legs swinging back and forth.

She was wearing a perfectly applied "no-makeup" makeup look today, her school uniform jacket draped loosely over her shoulders in that effortlessly chic way.

"What are you looking at?" Naomi barked, pointing a finger at my face.

"Serena is the undisputed number one of Oakridge High now. She’s a shoe-in for the Ivy League!"

"A nerd like you should just pack up and give her your seat. You don't deserve to sit in the front row anymore."

The entire class watched, treating it like a free show.

Not a single person spoke up for me.

Ever since Serena’s grades skyrocketed out of nowhere, the classroom dynamics had completely shifted.

The classmates who used to swarm my desk begging for help were now all wagging their tails around her.

"Honestly, Chloe, I barely even studied," Serena giggled, covering her mouth.

"I just casually flipped through the prep books before the exam. Who knew I’d end up in first place?"

"You study until midnight every single day, so how did you still end up thirty points behind me?"

Her eyes swam with mockery.

I bent down and pulled my chair back up.

"Flipping through books and getting first place? You really are something else," I said, my voice completely flat.

Seeing that I didn't blow up, Serena lost interest.

"At least you know your place," she said, sliding off my desk.

"I'm hosting a victory party this weekend. Everyone’s invited!"

The classroom instantly erupted into cheers.

"Serena is the best!"

"All hail the queen!"

I grabbed a rag and quietly wiped the water off the floor.

My mind was racing, replaying the conversation I’d overheard in the restroom.

System.

Thirty points higher.

No wonder her scores in the last three mock exams had been so ridiculously precise.

Every single time, she was exactly thirty points ahead of me.

This "system" she bound herself to was literally leeching off my blood to make her look like a genius.

I watched Serena walk away, surrounded by her adoring crowd. A cold smirk played on my lips.

The next morning, I knocked on my homeroom teacher Mr. Harrison's office door, holding a stack of papers.

"Chloe, just the person I wanted to see," Mr. Harrison said, his brow furrowed as he handed me a report card.

"Are you doing alright lately? Is the pressure getting to you?"

"You used to be locked into the top ten in the state. How did your rank drop so drastically this time?"

I looked down at the report card, where Serena’s name sat arrogantly at the very top.

"Mr. Harrison, I want to sign the Early Scholar Admission agreement."

Mr. Harrison froze, his red pen slipping from his fingers and rolling across the desk.

"Early admission?"

He stood up, his face painted with disbelief.

"But you told me before you wanted to take the SATs and apply normally!"

"The direct-admission major they offered you is Archaic Linguistics. It's a completely dead-end, niche field!"

"With your talent, if you perform normally, you could easily get into Finance or Computer Science at Harvard!"

Mr. Harrison tried to reason with me, his voice heavy with concern.

I shook my head.

"I've thought it through, sir."

"I have a deep passion for ancient texts. I want to secure my spot now."

Mr. Harrison sighed deeply.

"Are you doing this because you're stressed about Serena’s recent scores?"

"One or two exams don't define your future. You can't throw away your path just because of someone else!"

Of course I wasn't stressed.

I was clearer than I had ever been.

Serena’s system calculated her score based on mine.

Honestly, I had been holding back. In every exam, I deliberately managed my score so I wouldn't stand out too much.

But even if I gave it my absolute all, it would only serve as a stepping stone for Serena, giving her all the glory.

I had thought about pushing myself to the limit for the last hundred days. If I could break past 1570, Serena's score would look "incredible."

But I couldn't afford to gamble.

Signing the early admission papers now was the smartest move.

On SAT day, I would simply leave my answer sheet blank, or not show up at all.

The system would register my score as a flat 0.

Even with her system's "thirty-point bonus," Serena's final score would be...

30.

A score so low it wouldn't even get her into a local trade school.

I couldn't wait to see how our glorious school queen would explain that.

"My mind is made up, Mr. Harrison," I said, looking him dead in the eye with unwavering resolve.

"Please give me the admission form."

Realizing he couldn't change my mind, Mr. Harrison reluctantly pulled the form from his drawer.

"If you're absolutely sure. Fill it out and give it back to me."

"Once you're accepted through this program, you won't need to take the SATs, and you won't have to attend the prep sessions anymore."

I took the papers and nodded firmly.

"Thank you, Mr. Harrison."