Page 84 of Pucking Good Girl

I tell her everything. I begin with my promise to help Gen study and her request that I let her take a look at my answers during the test. My story comes to an end with the recollection of the way I ran out of this very office, sick to my stomach after Victor’s disgusting proposition.

“Victor expects an answer before our presentation,” I conclude. “I didn’t do anything wrong; you have to believe me. All I want is to attend my classes and work hard to receive the grades I earned fair and square. I’ve never cheated once in my life. I take my studies extremely seriously, and my dream is to be a history teacher. I’ve worked so hard to get here, and I would never do anything to put my dream at risk now that the finish line is within reach.”

When the professor doesn’t say anything, I add. “I love your classes; this is the third class I’ve taken with you. You’re my favorite professor and have always been my inspiration. Just the idea that you could think that I cheated⁠—”

My voice breaks and I need a second to compose myself. Crying in front of Professor Cantucci is the last thing I want to do.

The professor is perched over the edge of her desk, her lips flattened into a thin line and her gaze locked on me.

Seconds pass in complete silence, and there’s no way to tell if it’s a good or bad sign.

“This is a very serious allegation, Talia,” Professor Cantucci finally says. “Especially right now. I’m sure you’re aware of the ongoing investigation that involves my department over some incorrect grades in one of last year’s classes?”

Tucker responds before I have the chance to answer the question. “We’re aware, ma’am. I mean, Professor. That’s why I’ve had to retake this class and I’m not in LA playing for the Gladiators.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“Keeping you from what is going to be a very lucrative career is the last thing I want, Mr. Prescott,” the professor’s tone is hard. “You could have followed your career path and dropped out, like most of our student-athletes with professional aspirations end up doing.”

I don’t know how true that statement is. Because of Tucker, I’ve been gravitating around the hockey team since freshman year. I’ve seen very promising players abandon their studies the second the pros called, but I’ve also seen many of them stick it out until graduation before turning professional.

“I’m finishing my degree,” Tucker bites out. “I made a promise to my mom that I would. She dropped out of college to marry my dad and had to go back to school while working a full-time job and raising me and my siblings to finish her nursing degree. To this day she says I’ll be the first Prescott to graduate college. She says she doesn’t count since it took her over ten years to finish after leaving.”

Professor Cantucci’s arms are crossed over her chest. “I respect that. Your mother gave you excellent advice. But it doesn’t change the incredibly difficult position you’ve just put me in.” Her eyes go from Tucker back to me. “I’m going to ask you this question just once. Are the two of you cheating in my class or in any other classes?”

Again, Tucker fires his response before I can make a sound. “No. I’ve never cheated. Good or bad, I’ve always earned my grades. And the same can be said for Talia, with one difference. She’s always been getting straight As.”

“I’m sure you understand how it looks that two siblings are involved in cheating allegations.”

This time, I’m faster than Tucker in responding. “I get how this might look, Professor. But I swear on everything I hold dear that every word I said was true. I studied hard and completed my pop quiz without any outside help. And if Tucker says that he never cheated, I believe him.”

There’s another beat of silence. “Victor has been my T.A. for two years. He started when he was an undergrad student and he’s been doing an excellent job. This is your word against his, as I’m sure he’ll deny your version of the story.”

I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms to the point that it hurts. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Professor Cantucci has no reason to believe me over Victor.

“I guess before I decide how to proceed, I should take a look at yours and Miss Bergen’s pop quizzes.”

My heart is beating so loud against my ribcage that I’m sure everyone in the room must be able to hear it.

Professor Cantucci walks to the opposite end of her office. She retrieves a key from a clay pot resembling an ancient Roman dish and unlocks the top drawer of a metal filing cabinet.

“This is odd,” she murmurs after rifling through it for a few moments. “Here’s Miss Bergen’s test, but I can’t find yours, Talia.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and bet my shooting hand that Victor has Talia’s test.” Macklin bites out.

If a look could kill, the glare he receives from our professor would have him incinerated on the spot.

Shaking her head, Professor Cantucci slams the drawer shut. The look on her face is as serious as a heart attack as she walks back to her desk.

“Ok, Talia, this is what we’re going to do. I’ll ask you a few questions about the topics that were in the quiz. Different questions than the ones the class got tested on. Prove to me that you don’t need to cheat to get a passing grade.”

Becks opens his mouth to protest, but I elbow him in the stomach to silence him. I know what he’s most likely to say. That answering questions correctly wouldn’t prove that I didn’t let Gen copy.

One thing it would prove, though, is that a failing grade would be very unlikely.

Rubbing my elbow because Becks’s stomach is harder than steel, I answer several questions about Ancient Rome and the day-to-day life we can imagine using the art that has been preserved for over a thousand years.

Professor Cantucci rubs her temples as if she had a headache. “I think you’re telling the truth,” she finally utters. “I need to call Victor and the Dean, and we need to⁠—”