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Chapter 10 - Exploit

Miana let out a laugh. "Holy shit, that's awesome! I can't imagine how that teacher must have reacted when he got that email."

Sandra shook her head. "Nope. There never was an email. You know the old saying, Miana? About revenge and how it should be served? I told the professor to wait and see if my paper was published in the journal or not. And to send me a copy if it was." She beamed in pride. "Can't tell you how satisfying it was to walk right into that asshole's office, slam down the magazine in front of him, and point to my name, right there in bold text next to some of the greatest minds of modern science. The guy gave me the meanest stare, I swear. But then he just opened his grade book, put a one and zero next to the other zero for that paper, and said 'Satisfied, Ms. Baxter?'"

"Oh, that son of a bitch," Miana said, Sandra's story reminding her so much of Jessup. "If it were me, not sure I would have been able to resist beating the guy to death with that damn magazine."

"Well, the whole thing turned out to be a positive in the end," Sandra said, taking a long swig of her beer can. "Getting into Rutherford wasn't much of a challenge when I could mention in the application that I had been published in a major academic journal during my junior year in high school."

"Damn right," Miana said, deciding not to bring up that she had gotten published in freshman year. Twice, actually. Which was a big reason why she never even had a junior year, skipping right over it and senior year to head straight to Rutherford. "Underestimate Sandra Baxter at your own peril, science teachers of the world."

"I'll drink to that," Sandra said, holding her beer aloft briefly. "So, Miana... what about you? You've let me spend all night talking about myself. So how about you let me in on you a little bit, huh?"

Miana shrugged. "Not much to tell. Spent most of my childhood studying instead of playing with my classmates. Did enough extra work that I was able to-"

"Enh enh enh," Sandra cut her off. "Not that boring crap. I'm talking about the juicy stuff. What's the real Miana Xing like when she's not tinkering with teleporters?"

"Juicy? I don't know. Nothing really comes to mind..."

Downing the rest of her beer in one long swallow, Sandra casually crushed the can and tossed it over her shoulder. "Actually, I've got a different idea. Let me tell you one of your dirty little secrets, Miana. Because I think I've got a pretty good guess."

Miana studied Sandra, trying to figure out where she was going with this. "Okay? Go for it, then," she said, putting a bit of a dare in her tone.

"You didn't come over to talk about the accident, did you?" Sandra asked. She turned sideways on the couch, crossing her legs on the cushion and leaning back against the arm. "I think I know why you're really here tonight, Miana."

"Oh, really?" Miana asked, teasingly. "The esteemed physicist Sandra Baxter seems to have formed a theory. Well, state your hypothesis, and we'll put it to the test."

Sandra smirked over at Miana. "You came here tonight to seduce me, didn't you?" she boldly asked, staring down Miana through half-lidded eyes.

"That is an interesting hypothesis," Miana coyly responded. "What evidence do you have for this theory, Ms. Baxter?"

"Number one," Sandra said, holding up a finger. "The substantial amount of alcohol you've been plying me with ever since you've arrived."

Miana shook her head. "A weak start. I just felt like having a few drinks tonight, Sandra. Whether or not you joined me was entirely up to you. Hope you have more evidence than that, or this experiment is doomed to failure."