Ever had someone take credit for your blood, sweat, and tears? Imagine this: you’re surviving on caffeine, pulling all-nighters, and still, that one slacker gets the same grade as you.
Welcome to my nightmare—enter Becky, the queen of academic fraud and the dead weight of our group project.
This was supposed to be teamwork, a ‘let’s bring out the best in each other’ kind of deal, but Becky saw it as a free ride, sipping lattes while we burned through the midnight oil. Her contribution? Epic fails, missed deadlines, radio silence, and excuses that made ‘my dog ate my homework’ sound legit.
But we weren’t having it.
When presentation day rolled around, we dropped the truth bomb. No more free rides for Becky—she was exposed, right in front of the instructor. Karma didn’t just show up; it came with front-row tickets and the grade she actually earned, served cold and glorious.
The Group Project Begins
Group projects. They’re supposed to teach us teamwork, right? Well, this one taught me something else entirely. It all started when Mr. Thompson announced our teams for the big semester project.
Little did I know, I was about to get a crash course in frustration, betrayal, and the dark side of human nature. All thanks to one person who decided playing by the rules just wasn’t her thing.
Buckle up, folks. This ain’t your average school drama.
Emily and the Team Meet for the First Time
You know that feeling when you’re picked for a team and you just know it’s gonna be epic? That was me, Emily, when Mr. Thompson announced our group for the big semester project. I couldn’t believe my luck. I was teamed up with some of the smartest kids in class.
There was Sarah, the brainiac who always had her nose in a book. Jessica, the artsy one who could make anything look good. Mia, the tech whiz who could code in her sleep. And then there was Becky. I didn’t know much about her, but hey, five heads are better than four, right?
We huddled up after class, buzzing with excitement. Sarah was already scribbling down ideas, her glasses sliding down her nose. Jessica was sketching something in her notebook, probably visualizing our project already. Mia had her laptop out, fingers flying over the keys.
“So, what’s our game plan?” I asked, trying to get the ball rolling.
Sarah looked up from her notes. “We should meet up this weekend to brainstorm. My place?”
Everyone nodded. Well, almost everyone. Becky was kinda quiet, hanging back from our little circle. I caught her eye and smiled. “You in, Becky?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, sure. Text me the details?”
Little did I know, that hesitation was just the beginning of our troubles.
Becky’s Mysterious Absence
Saturday rolled around, and we all piled into Sarah’s living room. Well, not all of us. Becky was MIA.
“Has anyone heard from Becky?” I asked, glancing at my phone for the millionth time.
Jessica shook her head. “Nada. I texted her this morning to confirm, but… crickets.”
We waited for another fifteen minutes, but still no Becky. No call, no text, nothing.
“Maybe she got the time wrong?” Mia suggested, but we all knew that was unlikely. Sarah had sent a group text with all the details.
“Let’s just get started,” Sarah said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “We can catch her up later.”
So we did. We brainstormed, we planned, we divided up tasks. But Becky’s empty spot on the couch kept bugging me.
Where was she? And more importantly, why wasn’t she here?
The First Red Flags
Monday came, and Becky breezed into class like nothing had happened. I cornered her after the bell rang.
“Hey, Becky. We missed you on Saturday. Everything okay?”
She blinked at me, looking confused. “Oh, was that this weekend? I totally forgot. My bad.”
I frowned. How could she forget? We’d been talking about it all week.
“No worries,” I said, trying to keep things cool. “We can catch you up. When are you free?”
Becky shrugged. “I’m pretty busy this week. Maybe next weekend?”
Red flag number two. Our first progress check with Mr. Thompson was in three days.
“Uh, okay. I’ll let the others know. But maybe you could at least look over what we’ve done so far?”
“Sure, sure,” Becky said, already walking away. “Just email it to me.”
I watched her go, a sinking feeling in my stomach. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
Frustration Builds
By Wednesday, we were all feeling it. The frustration, the annoyance, the worry. Becky hadn’t responded to any of our emails or texts. She’d been in class, sure, but she always disappeared as soon as the bell rang.
“This is ridiculous,” Sarah fumed as we huddled in the library during lunch. “We’re doing all the work, and she’s just… what? Coasting?”
Jessica nodded, her usual cheerful face clouded with anger. “I spent hours on those mockups. She hasn’t even looked at them!”
Mia was furiously typing on her laptop. “I’m trying to code this whole section by myself. It’s impossible without her part.”
I felt torn. Part of me wanted to defend Becky – maybe she had a good reason? But another part of me was just as frustrated as the others.
“We need to do something,” Sarah declared. “This isn’t fair.”
We all nodded. But what could we do? Kick her out? Tell Mr. Thompson?
As the bell rang, ending our lunch break, I realized something. This wasn’t just about a project anymore. It was about trust, responsibility, and what it means to be part of a team.
And Becky? She was failing on all counts.
The ethical dilemma weighed heavily on my mind. Should we give Becky another chance? Or was it time to cut our losses and move on without her?
As we packed up our things, I couldn’t help but wonder: How many chances does someone deserve before you have to look out for yourself and the rest of the team?
Confronting Becky
Ever tried to nail jello to a wall? That’s what dealing with Becky felt like.
We thought we were being patient, understanding even. But there’s only so many times you can hear “I forgot” or “I’m busy” before you start seeing red.
It was time to confront the elephant in the room. Or in this case, the ghost in our group project.
Spoiler alert: It didn’t go well. But hey, at least we tried, right?
A Failed Attempt at Communication
That night, I decided to give it one more shot. I mean, we’re all human, right? Maybe Becky was going through something tough.
I dialed her number, heart pounding. One ring. Two rings. Three…
“Hello?” Becky’s voice crackled through the speaker.
“Hey, Becky! It’s Emily. Got a sec to talk about the project?”
There was a pause. Then, “Oh, um, now’s not a great time. Can I call you back?”
I sighed. “Sure, when?”
“Tomorrow, maybe? I promise I’ll check out the stuff you sent.”
But tomorrow came and went. No call. No text. Nothing.
I stared at my phone, feeling a mix of anger and disappointment. How many excuses could one person have?
Sarah Takes Charge
Sarah cornered Becky after class the next day. I watched from my desk, half-admiring, half-terrified of Sarah’s determination.
“Becky, we need to talk,” Sarah said, her voice firm but not unkind.
Becky looked like a deer in headlights. “Uh, about what?”
“The project. Your part. The fact that you’ve been MIA for weeks.”
I couldn’t hear Becky’s response, but I saw Sarah’s face harden.
“That’s not good enough,” Sarah said. “We’re all busy. We all have lives. But we made a commitment.”
Becky’s shoulders slumped. She nodded, said something I couldn’t catch, and hurried out of the room.
Sarah walked back to us, shaking her head. “She says she’ll do better. We’ll see.”
Jessica and Mia’s Support
Later that day, Jessica pulled me aside. “Hey, Em. You okay? You’ve seemed stressed lately.”
I hadn’t realized it was that obvious. “Just worried about the project, I guess.”
Jessica nodded. “Yeah, the Becky situation sucks. But hey, we’ve got your back.”
Mia joined us, giving me a reassuring smile. “Totally. We’re in this together.”
Their support meant more than I could say. It was us against the world – or at least, us against this project and Becky’s lack of participation.
The Group’s Decision
We met up at my house that weekend. Becky was a no-show. Again.
“Okay,” Sarah said, her voice tight with frustration. “We need to make a decision. Do we keep trying to include Becky, or do we move forward without her?”
We all looked at each other, the weight of the decision heavy in the air.
“I say we cut her loose,” Mia said. “We can’t keep waiting for her to get her act together.”
Jessica nodded slowly. “I hate to say it, but I agree. We’re running out of time.”
They all looked at me. I took a deep breath. “I wanted to give her another chance, but… I think you’re right. We need to focus on getting this done.”
And just like that, we made our choice. We’d finish the project without Becky’s input. It felt wrong, like we were leaving a teammate behind. But what choice did we have?
“Alright,” Sarah said, her voice a mix of determination and resignation. “Let’s divide up Becky’s part and get this done.”
We spent the next few hours redistributing tasks, each of us taking on extra work. It wasn’t fair, but it was necessary. As we worked, I couldn’t help but wonder how Becky would react when she found out.
Would she be angry? Relieved? Would she even care?
Presentation Day
You know that feeling when you’re on a rollercoaster, teetering at the top of a massive drop? That was us on presentation day.
Hearts racing, palms sweating, and a gnawing fear that everything was about to go spectacularly wrong.
We’d worked our butts off, but Becky’s empty chair was like a ticking time bomb.
And when Mr. Thompson started asking questions? Let’s just say the you-know-what hit the fan.
Turns out, karma’s got a mean streak and a front-row seat to our presentation.
Nerves and Expectations
The big day arrived faster than any of us expected. We gathered outside the classroom, a bundle of nerves and anticipation.
“Did anyone remember to bring the USB with our slides?” Mia asked, her voice higher than usual.
Jessica patted her bag. “Got it right here. Triple-checked this morning.”
I glanced around, half-expecting to see Becky rushing towards us with some last-minute contribution. But the hallway remained Becky-free.
Sarah took a deep breath. “Okay, team. We’ve got this. We know this project inside and out.”
We nodded, trying to believe it. But the empty space where Becky should have been felt like a gaping hole in our presentation.
As Mr. Thompson opened the classroom door, I whispered a quick prayer. Here goes nothing.
Mr. Thompson’s Interrogation
We were halfway through our presentation when Mr. Thompson held up his hand.
“Excellent work so far,” he said, his eyes scanning our group. “But I’m curious. Becky, we haven’t heard from you yet. What was your contribution to this project?”
The room fell silent. We all turned to look at Becky, who had slipped into class just as we were starting.
Becky’s face went pale. “I… uh… I helped with the research?”
It came out more like a question than a statement. Mr. Thompson’s eyebrows shot up.
“Is that so?” he asked, turning to the rest of us. “Emily, can you elaborate on Becky’s research contributions?”
My heart was pounding. Do I lie to cover for Becky? Or tell the truth and potentially tank her grade?
Truth Comes Out
I took a deep breath. “Actually, Mr. Thompson, Becky didn’t contribute to the research. Or… anything else.”
The room erupted in whispers. Becky’s face turned from pale to bright red.
“That’s not true!” she protested. “I… I was going to do my part, but…”
Sarah stepped forward. “We tried to include her, Mr. Thompson. We really did. But she missed meetings, ignored our messages, and never completed her assigned tasks.”
Mr. Thompson’s face was unreadable. “I see. And the rest of you picked up the slack?”
We nodded, not daring to look at Becky.
Unveiling Deception
“Becky,” Mr. Thompson said, his voice stern. “Is this true?”
Becky looked around the room, as if searching for an escape route. Finding none, her shoulders slumped.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I just… I got overwhelmed and…”
“And you let your team down,” Mr. Thompson finished for her.
The silence in the room was deafening. I felt a mix of relief that the truth was out, and guilt for being the one to expose Becky.
As Mr. Thompson asked us to continue our presentation, I couldn’t help but wonder: Had we done the right thing? And what would the consequences be for all of us?
Consequences and Resolution
They say the truth will set you free. But nobody mentions the chaos it unleashes first.
After our little show-and-tell about Becky’s “contributions,” things got messy. Real messy.
Suddenly, we’re juggling guilt, relief, and a whole lot of awkward.
But here’s the kicker: sometimes, hitting rock bottom is the only way to build something solid.
Who knew a group project could turn into a life lesson? Certainly not us.
Becky’s Defense
As we wrapped up our presentation, Becky suddenly found her voice.
“Wait!” she blurted out. “I can explain!”
Mr. Thompson raised an eyebrow. “Go on, Becky. We’re listening.”
Becky took a shaky breath. “I… I’ve been going through some stuff at home. My parents are splitting up, and I’ve been helping my mom a lot. I know it’s not an excuse, but…”
I felt a pang of sympathy. Family issues were tough. But before I could say anything, Sarah stepped forward.
“That’s rough, Becky,” Sarah said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “But you could have told us. We would’ve understood.”
Then Sarah’s tone hardened. “Instead, you’ve been out partying every weekend. I saw your Instagram stories.”
Becky’s face fell. Busted.
Mr. Thompson’s Verdict
Mr. Thompson cleared his throat. “Well, this has certainly been… illuminating.”
We all held our breath, waiting for the verdict.
“Emily, Sarah, Jessica, and Mia – excellent work under difficult circumstances. You’ll be graded on the project as presented.”
He turned to Becky. “As for you, young lady, we’ll discuss your grade – and your behavior – after class.”
Becky nodded, looking like she might cry.
As we packed up, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and sadness. We’d done well, but at what cost?
Lessons Learned
Later, we gathered at our favorite coffee shop to decompress.
“That was intense,” Mia said, stirring her latte absently.
Jessica nodded. “Yeah, but I think we did the right thing. Honesty is important, right?”
Sarah leaned back in her chair. “Definitely. But I can’t help feeling a little bad for Becky.”
I chimed in. “Me too. But you know what? I think we all learned something important about teamwork and communication.”
We spent the next hour discussing what we’d do differently next time. How we’d establish clear expectations from the start. How we’d address issues early on instead of letting them fester.
It felt good to turn this mess into a learning experience.
A Bittersweet Victory
The next day, Mr. Thompson pulled us aside after class.
“I wanted to commend you all again,” he said. “Not just for your project, but for your integrity.”
We beamed with pride.
“And,” he continued, “I thought you’d like to know that Becky came to me this morning. She apologized and asked for a chance to make things right.”
We exchanged surprised glances.
“I’ve assigned her an individual project to make up for her lack of contribution,” Mr. Thompson explained. “She seems genuinely remorseful.”
As we left the classroom, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. We’d faced a tough situation and come out stronger.
“Hey,” I said to my teammates, “how about we celebrate with some pizza?”
Their enthusiastic responses made me smile. We’d started this project as classmates, but we’d ended it as friends.
And that, I realized, was the biggest victory of all.