The first time I saw it was junior year, when Bobby spun the fuck out over that stupid American History final, like his entire future depended upon acing one exam—which was, I imagine, his father’s prophecy. Bobby said if his GPA dropped, he’d never stand a chance of getting into his target schools. That was the first I’d heard of an Ivy League plan.

So he came up with that elaborate scheme to break into the classroom, steal the tests from the top drawer in Mr. Clifford’s desk, then photocopy and distribute them to everyone else. This way he’d get an A while also ingratiating himself to the rest of the class. It was weird. I think the only reason Raymond agreed to help was because he hated seeing Bobby miserable. I stayed out of it, but Raymond loaned him the skeleton key that had been in the football team’s possession for generations, and he drove and stood guard while Bobby snuck inside like it was Watergate or something. It was the end of the year, and Mr. Clifford was fed up with our shit, I guess, because when he realized what had happened, he went berserk. Refused to let us out of class until we each wrote the name of our top suspect on a piece of paper, folded it in quarters, and handed it in, anonymously. I wrote, I DON’T KNOW. Raymond wrote something similar, and Bobby claims he did too, but I couldn’t help but wonder who else would have written Miles Dawson’s name down, if not the guilty party.

Sweet, boring Miles Dawson. His seat was empty the next morning. He probably spent the day hating himself for being the perfect patsy, while Mr. Clifford bragged about catching and suspending a thief. Case closed. Mr. Clifford actually thanked the anonymous tipper who’d snitched. At lunch, Ray and I insisted Bobby come clean, but Bobby refused. He blamed Mr. Clifford for failing to investigate properly and said we shouldn’t jeopardize our futures on account of other people’s incompetence. That was the first time I thought, Like father, like son.

Cut to Ray telling Mr. Clifford that he would not be able to give any more information, but that he knew for a fact it hadn’t been Miles. He wouldn’t say how he knew, but he did swear it wasn’t him, either. Technically, Ray was an accomplice, not a thief, so technically it wasn’t a lie. I think Mr. Clifford was so spent at that point—and rightfully on edge about having suspended the wrong person once already—that he just lectured Raymond and sent him away. Miles returned to class and everything went back to normal, and that’s how I learned that cheating is way more stressful than buckling down and doing the work.