Gemotions

He sat in the stark interrogation room, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, but the room felt like a party. Plagiarism. The word hung in the air, a delicious secret only he knew the full weight of. He shifted, a nervous energy propelling him to stand, pace, then sit again. He pressed his lips together, preventing the laughter that wanted to escape.

The professor across the table droned on, citing sources, comparing phrasing. But it was just noise. He’d done it, he had succeeded, and they couldn’t touch him. A triumphant thrill surged through him. He fought the urge to clap.