I showed up for an exam to a big lecture class, where there were probably 300 students. A boy I had other classes with made eye contact with me and said, “Did you study?”
I shrugged. I had, but I was still nervous. And, since this kid had never really talked to me before, I was wary as to why he was asking.
He then asked the person sitting beside me to trade him seats so he could sit by “his friend.” Yeah, he’d hardly ever talked to me; we weren’t friends.
As the test goes on, he tries to ask me questions. I ignore him. Somehow, he’s loud enough to disturb our neighbors, but not the professor.
Toward the end, he tries a plea, “I’m failing this test,” he whines, “Failing.”
I continued to ignore him. I was hesitant to even whisper, “No,” so as not to look like I was cheating.
In retrospect, the best choice would have been to stand up, march to the front of the classroom, and tell the professor that this kid was disturbing me.
In the moment, I was worried about my own grade. And I was enraged that someone would pretend to be my friend and expect me to risk my grade, my reputation, and my standing at the university by helping him cheat. 0916-11