“I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Are you suggesting I’ve colluded on this essay?”
“I’m not suggesting it, Neve. We know it has taken place.” The calm, utterly-patronising tone of her voice riled me.
“But it hasn’t. It was all my own work. I slaved over that essay. How can you say this?”
“Now, there’s no point getting angry. What’s done is done. What we do need to do is talk about the consequences of your choice.” What choice? I was still completely unaware as to what I had done, but I needed to calm down before I made the situation worse.
“I’m sorry, Hillary, I don’t get it. That essay was all my own work. Honestly.”
“I spoke to Garrett yesterday and know what you’ve been going through,” she said quietly, her voice laced with false sincerity. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear his name mentioned as part of the next crappy turn my life appeared to be taking.
“What has this got to do with Garrett?”
“Well, I showed him the similarities between the two essays and he admitted it straight away. He told me about helping you. I wish you’d come and spoken to one of us about, you know, the problems with your boyfriend. We understand what it can be like in your first few months here. We would have listened. As it is, once you’ve submitted the work, it has to be awarded a Fail. I don’t know if you thought changing seminar groups would make it less likely to be found out, but—”
“Helping me? Sorry… I still don’t understand what is going on. Garrett hasn’t helped me at all with the essay. And, if it’s about my so-called problems, well, he’s it. He’s my problem! And that is my bloody essay!”
“Now, calm down, Neve. You need to face up to what you’ve done. Both you and Garrett get the same sanction. This doesn’t mean you’ve failed the course, but you have now got an academic misconduct warning. The next time you get one, if there is a next time, you will be issued with a final academic warning. That would put you at risk of having to leave.” Having to leave? The bastard had now managed to put my university place in jeopardy? I have never regretted anything in my life as much as speaking to him that first time.
“Do you have a copy of the two essays?” I needed to see how he had managed to do it.
“I’ve attached a copy of Garrett’s to your work, as per the regulations. I’ve highlighted the evidence of collusion. As Garrett has admitted to it, there is a very limited right of appeal; the process is outlined in this letter. What I suggest you do, Neve, is learn from this. If you’re struggling or need help, ask. Don’t think this is the answer.” Knowing I wasn’t going to get any support from her, I took the essay and left. Seething.
Me: Where are you?
Mickey: About to go in to lecture. You OK?
Me: NO! Come to my room after? Please?
Mickey: Course. With coffee?
Me: With a gun?
Mickey: You’re kidding right?!
Me: Not sure. :(
Mickey: I’ll be there xxxxx
He arrived less than fifteen minutes later.
“I thought you had a lecture?”
“Yeah, well, I thought you had a burning desire to kill someone and I didn’t want to end up a prison widow.” He hugged me and handed over a large mocha. “So, what’s up?” I told him what had happened with my tutor.
“Let’s look at the essay. Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” His good intentions were not what I needed.
“It can’t be. I wrote it by myself. Most of it whilst locked away in here. The only other people involved in writing it are Lorde and Tom Odell.” I handed it over, certain of what he would find, whilst I re-read the university warning letter, cringing that such a thing even existed with my name on it.
“So?” I asked, concerned that he was so quiet.
“It is really similar, Neve. Well, chunks of it are.”
“What? It can’t be? It’s my fucking essay!”
“Look,” he said, pointing out a section from each. Shit. They were almost identical. “And here.” He pointed out another of the highlighted paragraphs in Garrett’s essay which had the same quotations, the same line of argument, even some of the same phrasing as a paragraph in mine.
“I don’t get it. How could he do this?”
“Revenge? Because he’s a shit-faced bastard?”
“No, I mean, how could he do it? He wasn’t around when I was writing it.”
“Has he borrowed your notes? Had access to your laptop?”
“No. He copied some of my notes from a lecture, but that wouldn’t have given him access to this. I don’t get it.” I thought back through the time I had spent with Garrett. I’d never left him alone in my room so he wouldn’t have taken anything then. I would have noticed it missing anyway.
“What about your folder? Could he have taken that?” Again, I was sure he couldn’t. It was either in my room, with me, or in my bag. My bag. My heavy, book-filled bag.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” I couldn’t believe I had been so stupid, so na?ve.