Chapter 4: Standing My Ground

The counselor was probably stunned—she didn’t reply for a long time.

Two minutes later, her message popped up.

“@Caleb Morris from Electrical Engineering What kind of attitude is this? How dare you talk to me like that?”

I replied: “Why shouldn’t I dare? I want to speak up for myself.” I even added an innocent-face emoji.

“Pfft—” Derek couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing.

The counselor sent a voice message: “What nonsense are you talking about? I didn’t approve your leave and you left anyway, and you think you’re in the right? Huh? You don’t accept it? You must have a skin thicker than a brick wall! I’m telling you—whether you accept it or not, you have to accept it!”

She’s really losing it now.

“Ms. Benson, as an educator, your words and actions represent not just yourself but also our college. It’s not appropriate to use foul language in public.”

“Don’t give me that! I’ve never met such an arrogant student. Do you believe I’ll make you drop out? If you don’t want to study, just get out. Someone like you, who ignores school rules and disrespects teachers, doesn’t deserve to be in college—you’ll never amount to anything!”

“Ms. Benson, you’re just a counselor. I don’t think you actually have the authority to expel students. And isn’t it a bit much for you to say I’ll never succeed? Even ex-cons have gone on to do great things.”

Derek yelled excitedly, clutching his phone: “Caleb, you’re amazing! Go, fight her to the end!”

The dorm leader smacked him and said to me: “What are you thinking? Going head-to-head with the counselor won’t do you any good…”

The counselor was probably so furious she was speechless—she didn’t reply for several minutes.

Then: “I don’t have the authority, so that’s why you dare talk to me like this?”

“Not really. But a counselor has no right to stop students from attending class, graduating, or going home to see family for the last time.”

“Fine, fine! If I don’t teach you a lesson, I’m not fit to be a counselor!”

Then, I was kicked out of the group chat. My phone vibrated in my palm, and for a moment I felt weirdly liberated, like I’d just dropped a hundred pounds of dead weight.

The counselor called me, her voice almost hysterical, demanding I show up in her office at 9 a.m. tomorrow for a scolding.

Normally, if anyone went to see her, she’d either glare at you or roll her eyes coldly—she’s never lost her cool like this before.

I smiled and said, “No problem, Ms. Benson. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”

After hanging up, Derek asked, “Damn, did you eat nails for breakfast today?”

The youngest said, “Caleb, are you getting ready to take a leave of absence or something…”

The dorm leader was anxious: “No need, no need—don’t go that far.”

In the 200-person group chat, not a single person said a word from beginning to end. But I knew: tonight the stars are bright, and no one’s sleeping. Everyone’s glued to their phones, waiting for the show.

Friends on Messenger kept messaging me: “Caleb, you’re a legend!” Most of them had been disgusted by the counselor over leave requests before.

At 9:30 the next morning, I was still lying in bed. The other three, even people from the next dorm, came over to see if I was planning to stand up the counselor.

I said, why would I? Yesterday, I only said I’d go in the morning—I never promised to be there at 9. The Student Senate President always checks the office at 10. It’s too early to go now.

At 9:50, the counselor called several more times. I could feel her rage had hit the ceiling.

“Caleb Morris, you really don’t take me seriously as your counselor. Just wait—I’ll show you what I can do!”

“Don’t worry, Ms. Benson, I’ve already left. I’ll be there soon.”

Under the stunned gazes of my three roommates, I got dressed up neatly.

“Damn, Caleb, you…”

On the way, everyone in the hallway parted like I was radioactive. I heard a camera shutter—someone was definitely posting this to their Snapchat story. Quite a few even snuck photos of me.

I just walked straight into the counselor’s office.

When she saw me, her rage turned to shock, and her voice even trembled: “Caleb Morris, are you insane, showing up in black from head to toe? Are you looking for trouble?”

I looked her right in the eye, feeling the weight of loss and defiance settle over me like an old letterman jacket. If I was going to be judged, at least I’d show up on my own terms. I squared my shoulders, ready for whatever hell she was about to unleash.