I didn’t. No, I swear on my mother’s grave, I did not cheat. What’s that? You have video footage? Are you sure that’s me?

Oh, yes you’re right, that Bart Simpson bench pressing tattoo is featured very prominently. Ok, so I have that same tattoo in that same place, but I mean, c’mon, that hardly makes for a water-tight case.

Mom hovers over my bed; it’s pitch black and I’m confused. She’s said something. “What?” I say.

“Paul’s mom called and asked if we could help her out before school. Get up, we’re taking Paul to breakfast.”

I prop myself up on my arm and rub sleep from my eyes. “What time is it?”