If It's Thursday, I Must Be Tangling...

Fresh faced
and spunky.

She denies that
she's taken the class before

although I recognized her
right off.

"Melissa," I say,
"We've already tangled."

She cheated on my midterm
and final

two years ago.
She's desperate to finish

her degree, and I'm the only
person teaching the class this term.

"The Dean and I," I say,
"sat there with your parents."

"Not me," she says.
"I'm not a cheater."


"Maybe not now, but then,
oh, yes, then."

She holds still for a bit,
then breaks.

"Can't you give me another chance,"
she says, putting aside the ruse.

"I might have," I said,
"except for you calling me

a fucking asshole and liar
two years ago.

That's tough to get over,
especially since you never apologized."

Then a light goes on in her head.
"Can I apologize now?"

"Hmm," I say, "let's see
what happens."

And I mean it.