Chapter 2They Told Me to Apologize

I didn’t go to the library or a friend’s dorm. I went straight to my academic advisor’s office.

His name was Mr. Evans. He was a man in his late thirties with glasses and a perpetually gentle, understanding demeanor.

He listened to my story, his brow furrowing as he peered into the box at the mangled remains of my MacBook.

“I understand the situation, Leah,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “However, Jenna’s case is… unique. She is one of the university’s most prominent scholarship students. We have a certain duty of care for students in her position.”

I listened, holding my tongue.

“Look, she was clearly under immense pressure with her thesis deadline. It was an impulsive act. And realistically, given her financial situation, she simply can’t afford to replace it. If you file a police report, it will create a record, and that could follow her for the rest of her life.”

Mr. Evans’s tone was that of a patient father explaining a hard truth. “For you, a laptop is a replaceable object. For her, a blemish on her record could be a life sentence.”

“So, what are you suggesting, Mr. Evans?” I asked.

“What I’m suggesting is, for the sake of fellowship, and as a favor to me, we let this go.” He offered a placating smile. “Let’s not make this a bigger issue than it needs to be. I’ll have a serious talk with Jenna. I’ll have her write you a formal letter of apology, and she can even deliver it in front of the whole department if you’d like. How does that sound?”

A letter of apology. To compensate for a thousand-dollar piece of hardware and intentional property destruction.

I shook my head.

“Mr. Evans, this isn’t about being petty. It’s about the principle of the thing. When you do something wrong, you have to take responsibility. She wasn’t thinking about ‘fellowship’ when she smashed my computer.”

His face hardened. “Leah, you need to see the bigger picture. Is it really worth jeopardizing a fellow student’s future, and tarnishing the reputation of our department, over something so trivial?”

The undertone was no longer gentle. It was a threat.

Just then, as if on cue, Jenna herself appeared in the doorway, having realized where I’d gone.

The moment she saw Mr. Evans, her eyes welled up. She rushed to his desk, tears streaming down her face. “Mr. Evans, you have to help me! I didn’t mean to do it! I was just so dizzy from staring at my research, and my hand slipped… Leah’s blowing this all out of proportion! She said she’s going to call the cops and get me expelled… I don’t know what to do…”

She was a master of turning reality inside out.

Mr. Evans immediately slipped into the role of the protective father figure, handing her a tissue and murmuring, “There, there, it’s alright. I’m here. I won’t let anyone bully you.”

He then turned back to me, his expression now openly hostile.

“Leah! Look what you’ve done to her! Jenna already told you it was an accident, so why do you insist on persecuting her? Where is your compassion? Your empathy? Is it because you come from a more privileged background that you feel you can look down on students who are less fortunate?”

And there it was. In one swift move, I had been recast as the privileged bully.

I stood there, watching this touching display of mentorship, and I could feel my entire body trembling with rage.

"Mr. Evans, there are other witnesses in the room. They can confirm it was deliberate. The difference between dropping something and throwing it is obvious. Just look at the damage in the box."

He waved a dismissive hand. “Enough. I’ve heard enough. This matter is closed. Jenna, you go back and focus on your thesis. And Leah, you will go back to your room and write a one-thousand-word statement reflecting on your failure to foster a supportive environment among your peers. I want it on my desk by Friday.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“You want me, the victim, to write a letter of apology?”

“Yes!” he snapped, slapping his desk for emphasis. “Your decision to change the password was the catalyst for this whole incident! You lit the fuse! Are you telling me you bear no responsibility at all? My decision is final! If you continue to pursue this, it could have serious consequences for your own academic standing.”

Without giving me another glance, he turned to Jenna with a warm smile. “Don’t you worry about a thing. If you have any trouble with the thesis, you come straight to me. I have a spare laptop in my office you can use. Come on, let’s go get it.”

He led her out, leaving me alone in the office with the box of my computer’s remains.

A tidal wave of humiliation and fury washed over me, so powerful it almost knocked me off my feet.