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.