Alex came to school as usual. What wasn't usual was his friend Ken—who now had a plaster across his nose.
Ken's confession to Noel had already spread like a virus outbreak. By the time everyone saw Ken's bandaged face, rumors were flying. Theories and wild hypotheses about how he'd broken his nose ranged from brawls to dramatic romantic rejection.
As Alex and Ken settled into their seats, Noel—who had just heard the gossip—rushed over, concern written all over his face.
"What happened to your face?" Noel asked directly.
Ken, whose voice now sounded strange because of the nasal plaster, stayed silent.
"Ken… are you mad at me?" Noel's tone softened, worried.
"It's nothing like that," Alex answered for him.
"Can we talk for a moment, Noel?" Alex added gently.
Noel nodded, and the two of them stepped out to a quiet corner on the balcony near the class.
"First of all, he's not mad at you," Alex said. "Secondly, his voice really does sound like a Pokémon right now—that's why he's not talking. He's embarrassed."
"And what actually happened to his face? Did he… really get into a fight?" Noel pressed.
"You think Ken got into a fight? Nah," Alex replied. "He slipped into a trash can. How would he even fight when you haven't rejected him?"
A pause. "Oh—uh, I mean… you didn't accept or reject him yet. Exams are in two days, and I have a lot to study, so—bye!"
Ken hurried away, clearly flustered.
"Oh god… good save," Alex muttered. "What if Noel had said no and then used me as the messenger?"
When Alex returned to the classroom, whispers filled the room—everyone was still staring at Ken.
"Alright, everyone settle down," Alex called out. "We've got a few tasks. The teacher gave me some model questions that might appear on the exams. I'll write them on the board—make sure you copy them carefully."
He started writing, but deliberately changed some values, making the questions unnecessarily tricky. The class diligently began copying them.
Back at his seat, Ken frowned. "Alex… I think there's a problem with these questions."
"Why are you even writing them down?" Alex whispered back with a grin. "I changed the values just for fun—it's the same basic question, just dressed up in harder words."
After several minutes of scribbling and struggling through the problems, the classroom had grown quiet except for the sound of pens scratching against paper. It had already been quite a while since Alex had written the questions when Aria finally raised her hand.
"Alex, I think something's off. The values don't make sense."
"Oh, is that so? Let me check," Alex replied, feigning innocence.
He walked back to the board and "discovered" multiple mistakes, correcting them while the class groaned in frustration.
"Sorry, guys, just a few errors," he said with a smirk as he returned to his seat.
The class had barely started copying the corrected version when the teacher walked in, greeted everyone, and wiped the board clean—leaving them without the questions.