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“I can prove it! I’ll go print it out.”
Tanya leaped up from the table and sprinted out of the dining room. In less than a minute, she was back with the one-page essay dangling from her fingers. She handed it to my father and returned to her seat, her eyes on him as he read it.
“My God, I can’t believe it!” He palm-slapped his forehead, horror written all over his face. “It’s identical!”
She gave him a smug smile. “Mr. Merritt, I mean Matt, Paige must have stolen it off my desk or seen it on my computer. She can get into my bedroom from the hallway door.”
I stared at her. “I did no such thing! You stole the essay from me!”
“I did not! I can’t even get into your room. It’s locked from both sides.”
“Paige, dear,” interrupted my mom, now seated, “can you prove you wrote it?”
“No! I didn’t save a copy on my laptop because I seriously didn’t care about it.”
My head began to spin. How the hell did Tanya get access to my essay? My mind did somersaults and then it came to me. The drafts I threw out. I’d even accidentally printed out a dozen copies of a close-to-final one and tossed them in the trash without shredding them. She must have found them.
“Dad, Tanya found my essay and copied it.” Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “You have to believe me!”
My furious father continued to breathe in and out of his nose. I honestly thought red-hot flames would fly out of his nostrils like a dragon’s.
“Paige, you are an utter embarrassment to me. And to our family. All the Merritt men and women have gone to Stanford.” He went back to reading the letter. “We understand that your family is legacy and are major contributors to the university, but we have a no-tolerance policy for plagiarism. It is with great regret that we cannot admit you to our institution and wish you much success elsewhere. Sincerely, Richard H. Shaw, Dean of Admissions.”
Rage burning on his cheeks, my father tore up the letter into a million tiny pieces and then banged his fist on the table so forcefully the plates shook.
“Paige,” he hissed, “go up to your room. I am cutting off your phone and taking away your car keys for an indefinite amount of time.”
There was a hushed silence around the table. Tanya shot me a smug, triumphant look as I rose to my feet and slumped out of the room.
“Can I please be excused too?” I heard my little brother say as I turned a corner.
Five minutes later we were sitting on my bed. I was crying. Tanya had done it again.
“Willster, do you believe me?”
“Do you seriously have to ask me that question?” He looked at me earnestly. “That girl is so dumb she needs a headband to hold onto her thoughts.”
I couldn’t help but laugh through my tears. “But she gets away with it. Now, I don’t have a phone or car.”
“Hey, Pudge, look at the bright side. Now, you don’t have to go to Stanford.”
For the first time all night, I smiled. “You’re right!”
We high-fived.
Screw my father. Screw Tanya. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d bribed someone to falsify her grades. She was the ultimate con artist.
I spent the rest of the night working on my RISD portfolio. Asking Will to safeguard it in his room lest the psycho find it and destroy it. Or make it hers.
I knew now that nothing was beneath her in her quest to destroy me.
TWENTY
NATALIE
“Happy birthday to you…”
Two years ago, as I lay in bed contemplating ending my life, I never thought I’d hear that refrain again. Nor the harmonious voices of my family belting it out.
