Fifteen minutes late to my appointment, I knock on the office door. Dressed in my usual attire of short skirts and low-cut blouses, I stand with my legs crossed and one hand on the door frame, insolent. Yes, I tried to cheat. And yes, I was stupid for thinking I can get away with having a phone in my pocket. But let’s just say, drinking the night before your final might not have been the best idea.
But is this really necessary? I’m in my twenties. I make mistakes. Plus, I’m a good student. I just had my phone in my pocket, and it’s not like I actually got any advantages from that. What’re they gonna do, fail me?
As I contemplate my fate, the admin opens the door and lets me in. Her face looks grim, looking at me with a forced half smile. I see the dean sitting next to the head of department, with the student affairs officer on the side. Formal.