Addy got his seat number—number 15. He groaned loudly. "The worst number. I hate it."
His seat was close to the teacher's desk, which meant it would be easy for the invigilator to observe everything he did. No chance for last-minute glances at notes, no opportunity to sneak a peek at a neighbor's answer sheet. He slumped in his chair, already defeated.
Ketto's number was 10. Not too far back, but also not too far forward. We could say it was just the right spot—close enough to see the blackboard clearly, far enough to avoid the invigilator's constant pacing.
Hanky's seat was number 19, which placed him parallel to Ketto. To be honest, Hanky was a bit happy about this arrangement. He thought he could get help from Ketto during the test. Ketto was good at every subject—math, science, language arts, you name it.
Ketto, however, was not happy. He wasn't sad or angry either, but he felt a deep sense of embarrassment. He and Hanky still had unresolved tension between them. He didn't know how to fix things, and the thought of sitting so close to Hanky during the exam made him nervous. He lowered his head, stared at his seat number, and dazed off into his own thoughts.
Across the room, Billy was scanning the students sitting around him. His face twisted into a grimace. "It's awful," he moaned. "My seat is so bad."
The people around him either didn't perform well academically or had no intention of sharing their answers. Worse, one of the people sitting nearby was Lisa—and there was no way she would let him cheat off her. In fact, if Billy even tried, Lisa would probably report him to the invigilator without a second thought. Billy couldn't believe his bad luck.
He looked over at Hanky and yelled loudly, "Hanky! I admire you. You got a good seat."
Hanky glanced at him briefly but said nothing. His attention was elsewhere.
A moment later, Hanky turned his head and called out, "Hey, Ketto."
Ketto lifted his head. "Um. What's the matter?"
Hanky looked at him directly and spoke quietly, almost casually. "My exam depends on you. You know what that means, right?"
Ketto's heart jumped. He didn't understand what Hanky was asking him to do. "What?"
"Show me your answers," Hanky said directly.
Ketto's voice dropped to a nervous whisper. "How?"
Hanky explained in a low, matter-of-fact tone. "When you finish your exam, move your answer sheet to this place." He pointed to the edge of his desk, the side closest to Ketto. "When I make an 'OK' gesture, that means I've finished copying. Then you can show me the next page."
Ketto listened without showing any expression. Inside, his mind was racing.
"Understood?" Hanky asked.
Ketto hesitated, then nodded. "What if the invigilator finds out?" he asked, his voice full of worry.
Hanky shrugged. "Just be careful. I'll make sure we don't get caught. Don't worry, okay?"
Their quiet conversation had caught the invigilator's attention. The teacher looked up from his papers and spoke firmly. "No talking now. The exam is about to begin. Please keep quiet and get settled."
Ketto's heart was pounding. He didn't want to help Hanky cheat. He would have been happy to help Hanky in any other way—study together, explain difficult concepts, review notes—but this was different. Cheating was illegal. It broke the rules. It was wrong.
But Ketto also felt that he owed Hanky something. After everything that had happened between them—the fight, the harsh words, the awkward silence—Ketto felt guilty. And now Hanky was asking him for help.
He thought for a long moment. Then, reluctantly, he decided to follow Hanky's request.
The invigilator walked around the room, hinting at everyone to keep quiet. When the bell rang, he returned to the front desk. Then he lifted the sealed documents high above his head, showing the envelope to every student in the room. This movement was meant to prove that the exam papers had remained secret—no one had seen them beforehand.
The teacher broke the string, opened the envelope, and pulled out the stack of exam sheets.
Before distributing the answer sheets and exam papers, he gave a clear instruction. "No one is allowed to open the sheets until I say so. You may only write your seat number and your name. Anyone who breaks this rule will be sent to the principal's office, punished, and given a score of zero for this round. That means your test will be invalidated."
Everyone sat in careful silence. No one wanted to disturb the invigilator or break his rules.
The invigilator then distributed the sheets to students in turn, following the desk number order. As each student received their papers, they immediately wrote down their name and seat number. They also filled in the corresponding bubbles, blackening the boxes completely.
Ketto was very serious and careful. He wrote down his number, then double-checked that each circled box matched the correct number. He didn't want to make any mistakes before the test even began.
When he finished everything, he looked up—and found Hanky staring directly at him.
Their eyes met.
Hanky gave him a warm, sunny, handsome smile. It was the kind of smile that could melt someone's heart. Ketto's face flushed red. His heart began to pound again, fast and uncontrollable. He quickly looked away, pretending to check his answer sheet one more time.
About five minutes later, the invigilator began walking around the room, checking each student's name and seat number. If someone had written something incorrectly, he would remind them or ask them to revise it until it was right.
Once everyone was properly registered, the pro-precedure was complete. The room fell into a deep, tense silence. Every student sat with their pen in hand, eyes fixed on their papers, waiting for the final bell.
The bell would signal the start of the exam. Then, and only then, they could pick up their pens and begin.
Ketto took a deep breath. He could feel Hanky's presence somewhere to his side, waiting. The weight of what he had agreed to pressed down on his shoulders.
I shouldn't be doing this, he thought.
But it was too late to back out now.