Cheat Sheet

He had big dreamy eyes and wavy hair.   "Can I borrow your homework?"  The Short Jewish 9th Grader waged a tough internal debate. "Uh..." "Please, Carol?  Come on."  "I don't know."  He touched my arm. I was a goner.  "Okay, but bring it back tomorrow."  "I could kiss you."  But he didn't.  He had eight other girls in rotation.  He took my English homework, which I'd slaved over for hours, and disappeared.  Right away I sensed I'd made a big mistake, a mistake I couldn't undo.  We hate when that happens.  The next day, Mr. Dreamy Eyes returned my homework.   He touched my arm.  "You saved my butt."  I smiled, shyly.  Sometimes a smile is enough.  For a brief moment, I felt good.  I'd done a mitzvah for a handsome bad boy.  When would I get a chance like that again?  Cut to:  Fifteen minutes later.  The teacher beckoned me forward.  "Carol, did you let Robert copy your homework?"  "Umm..." "Robert, come up here, please?"  A moment later, Mr. Dreamy Eyes sidled up next to me.  He smelled good.  Like French Fries.  He'd obviously ditched 3rd period and gone to American Burger.  "Robert, did you copy Carol's homework?"  Mr. Dreamy Eyes looked down at the floor.  "Umm..." Two umms may not make a right, but in this case, they added up to a yes.  "I want you both to go home tonight, and write I will not cheat 500 times."  Well!  Color me ashamed.  Color me stupid for letting Mr. Dreamy Eyes take me down a dark road.  I had a brief period of deep remorse.  And then I got busy.  I rallied up some friends and doled out their assignment.  "I want you each to go home and write I will not cheat 100 times."  The next day, I turned in pages and pages of mea culpas in different handwriting styles and waited for the teacher to notice.  I'm still waiting.  As for Mr. Dreamy Eyes, I have no idea whether he turned in his cheat sheets or not.  All I know is this:  He never cheated off me again.  Or talked to me, come to think of it.