He finally spoke up, but his tone was cold. He pulled out a chair and positioned it right in front of me, like he wanted me to trip.
"Enough of this," he said. "You’ve caused trouble before, Savannah and the school has been patient. But accusing someone of plagiarism is serious. Do you have any proof?"
I just stared at him, my fists clenched so tight my nails were digging into my palms.
"No proof?" he said, his voice almost mocking. "Then I suggest you apologize to Scott. If you do, I can put in a good word with the school leaders and make sure you still graduate."
Scott sat at the podium, grinning. He casually threw a pen at my head.
"Get smart, cripple," he taunted.
I wasn’t going to back down. I didn’t care about the humiliation anymore. I made a scene and I made sure everyone in that room would remember it.
A classmate filmed the whole thing and posted it online, tagging my name. It went viral in no time. The university got roasted by netizens for how badly they were handling things.
Everyone started pushing me to admit I was wrong and just give up on my graduation. The whole situation spiraled fast, even catching the attention of the Department of Education.