Fake It Till You Fail It

After securing a guaranteed spot in Harvard, I decided to skip the SAT.

The moment the school’s golden boy Clive Smolett heard that, he stormed over and punched me across the face.

“Everyone else has to take the SAT! Why the hell do you get a free pass?

“Is it because you’re scared you’re not actually the genius you think you are, and you’re afraid the whole campus will find out, huh?”

In my last life, during the SAT, Clive’s essay was identical to mine—word for word.

I asked the proctor—my own sister—and my childhood friend, who was in the same exam room, to back me up.

Instead, they begged the school to go easy on me, saying I should be allowed to retake the test since it’s my “first offense.”

By the time the scandal blew up, everyone cursed my name and accused me of being a “cheater” and “plagiarist.”

And since I couldn’t prove I was innocent, I got expelled.

To make things worse, they got me permanently banned from taking the test again.

Mom and Dad were doxxed and harassed online. They lost their jobs and aged 10 years overnight.

Their son went from being on top to hitting rock bottom. Depression hit hard.

On a winter night, I took my life.

But then, suddenly, I woke up—back to the week before the SAT.

——

“Denny, I made some avocado toast with smoked salmon. Eat first before you study. You’ve lost weight!”

My sister Charlize Witt placed the plate on my desk, even taking the time to bring some blueberry protein smoothie.

For a second, I nearly fell out of my chair in surprise.

Just then, my best friend Geena Baxter walked in, setting another food container on my desk.

“I heard you haven’t been eating much. Here, I made some hummus for you so you can eat well again.”

I’d been through this before. Twice.

In my last life, I thought I was the luckiest person in the world—I got a sister seven years older who always took care of me and a childhood friend who wasn’t blood but felt closer than family.

But now that I was back in my life, their efforts just broke my heart.

Back then, when I took the admission test, my essay was identical to Clive’s, down to the last word.

The grading committee caught it immediately and reported it to the College Board.

As a student who got recommended to be admitted to Harvard, I had a real shot at being the highest scorer in SAT.

But the moment this incident broke, I was caught in a storm of public opinion.

I begged Charlize, who was my proctor then, and Geena, who took the exam in the same room, to help me clear my name.

But… they refused.

My sister even apologized on my behalf, asking Payton College Preparatory High School to let me repeat the year instead of kicking me out since the “academic dishonesty” was my “first offense.”

The incident sparked an uproar online.

[I was like, ‘wow, he had the nerve to cheat,’ and then, turns out—his own sister was the proctor! That’s basically an inside job, right?!]

[Exactly! Cheaters like this guy should be banned from taking the SAT forever! It’s only fair to everyone!]]

[Absolutely! He wants to retake the exam? Dream on!]

With all the backlash, the school shut down Charlize’s request.

Not long after, the exam results were released.

I, the school’s top student, barely scraped past 200 points.

Meanwhile? Clive, the guy who always ranked at the bottom, miraculously became the state’s top scorer in SAT.

His essay was even published as a model answer, praised by teachers across the state.

And just like that, he became the revered genius scholar.

And I became a cheater and plagiarist!

Due to the severity of the “misconduct,” I was permanently banned from taking the exam. The school also refused to issue my high school diploma.

Without a degree, my only option was to be a delivery guy.

But customers would dump their orders on me and leave bad reviews just for fun.

Because of me, my parents lost their jobs. The stress broke them.

To pay their medical bills, I took a warehouse job sorting packages.

Unfortunately, within days, my boss recognized me.

He refused to pay me and even threw me out onto the street.

With no money and hope left, I lost all reason to keep going.