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I’m not going to lie, one read, this thesis is pathetic. Either rework it, or don’t submit it. I thought you were an English major?
He scrolled down, shocked.
Yikes. It’s their, not they’re
This paragraph is boring.
This whole thing makes no sense.
Do you have dyslexia? Spell check this nonsense.
This paper is going to waste anyone’s time who reads it. It’s worthless.
This is so beyond disappointing. I thought you would be better than this.
Anyways, if you want to save it, then delete it. Don’t submit it. Go be a teacher at some middle school because from what I see it’s all you’ll be good at.
There was more, but he couldn’t read it.
He leaned back, covering his mouth.
“See? I know you think I’m crazy, but this is what you sent me. I even have the email with the file attached if you want to be sure I’m not lying.” She leaned over and went to her college email, pulling up the file directly from there. It had been starred, as if she wanted to save it to come back to. “I don’t know if you were drunk or what, Charlie, but this was not okay.”
“I didn’t write this.”
“Oh, come on, don’t suddenly change your tune now that I’ve shown you.”
“Violet, I didn’t write this,” he said, firmly. “Even if I hated your paper, you explicitly told me it wasn’t spell checked. Half of these comments are things I knew you hadn’t gotten to yet.”
“It came from your email. You sent it.”
“Yes, I remember sending it, but it was a few days after I had read it over. This is bullying, Violet.”
“Yes! It is! And you did this to me with no fucking warning, Davis! You sent this to me when you were the only one who knew about grad school. I didn’t go because of this!”
Shit, shit, shit. It all made sense - why she never trusted him, why she always had to be even, all of it.
“But this wasn’t me.”
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
“Have you had Word track your changes since college?”
“What?” Violet asked.
“Word automatically tracks changes. Maybe it saved the original and I can go back to see when it was changed. Can I?”
Violet shrugged and turned away. He took it as a confirmation because he needed to see what had happened.
The Word document moved like a sloth, and he could almost guarantee it had been tracking changes for years. It always did this when it tracked too many, and it bogged the system down. When the box did finally open, he scroll to the bottom, relief hitting him when he saw his original comments there.
“Look,” he told her. “This is what I said.”
The thesis is a good start, but it sounds a little unsure. Is there maybe something else you can prove a little easier?
“What?” Violet said. “There’s only two comments here.”
“I only made two.”
