The Geometry of It All

The triangles in the pattern on the hardwood hallway pointed outside toward my car with a shrug, and I was too embarrassed to say good-bye to anyone. The dean’s voice, mumbly and strokish, was stuck in my head. Plagiarism. Expulsion.

Until that paper I’d never been a cheater and I only ever lied to my dentist. I was bothered by the cliché of it all. High school valedictorian turned college dropout. It was what everyone secretly wanted from the girl who hogged the front page of the small-town paper, the girl who could do everything. It was the fear of falling from perfection that finally proved too difficult to handle, but now here I was anyway, facing it with cowardice and speed and nausea.

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