The ticking of the wall clock in the General Knowledge classroom sounded like a slow, rhythmic countdown to freedom.
I slouched in my chair at the back of the room, my chin resting in my palm, staring blankly at the teacher who was droning on about state capitals. My notebook was open, but instead of writing down the difference between a legislative and executive branch, I was mentally mapping out the specs for the gaming PC I planned to hustle out of Phil.
If I can get a dual-monitor setup, I mused, tapping my pencil against the desk, I could play games on one screen and run a fake 'educational' spreadsheet on the other. Perfect camouflage.
BRRRIIINNNG!
The final bell of the day shattered my thoughts, ringing through the school like a choir of angels. The collective sigh of relief from thirty middle schoolers was audible. Chairs scraped against the linoleum floor, backpacks were zipped up with frantic energy, and the stampede toward the door began.
I took my time. I slowly sat up, stretched my back until it popped, and lazily packed my single notebook into my blue backpack. I made sure everything was in its proper place, slung the bag over my right shoulder, and strolled out of the classroom.
Originally, Alex and I had agreed to meet at the front entrance of the school. But honestly? Waiting around in a crowded lobby full of screaming kids sounded like a headache. It was much more efficient to just go to her classroom and intercept her before she got caught up in whatever nerd activities she usually did after school.
I navigated the crowded hallways, dodging overly energetic students, and made my way toward the East Wing—the domain of the Honors students.
It only took two minutes of walking to find Class 7-A. The atmosphere here was noticeably different. The kids walking out of this room weren't screaming about cartoons; they were intensely discussing extra credit assignments and science projects.
I peeked my head through the open doorway. Most of the class had already left, but there were still a few stragglers packing up their bags.
My eyes quickly scanned the room and locked onto a familiar mop of dark hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Alex was standing near the front row of desks, but she wasn't alone. She was in a heated debate with another student.
Between them rested a heavily scribbled notebook. Both of them were standing up, pointing at the pages, their voices hushed but intensely competitive.
I slowly, silently walked into the room. With my hands buried in my hoodie pockets, my footsteps made absolutely no sound against the floor. I crept up right behind her.
I raised a hand and casually tapped her shoulder.
"Eeeek!" Alex let out a genuinely cute, high-pitched squeak, her shoulders jumping up to her ears. She spun around defensively, clutching her textbook to her chest like a shield, fully expecting a bully or a teacher.
When she saw my lazy, slightly amused smile, her fierce expression melted into one of pure relief, followed instantly by annoyance.
The boy she was arguing with had been staring at the notebook, but the sound of her squeak made him look up. He gazed forward, noticing the new arrival, and a flash of surprise crossed his face when he recognized me.
"Uh... Luke!" Alex gasped, putting a hand over her heart to calm it down. "Don't scare me like that! You could've just waited at the front entrance like we agreed. I would have left in a minute."
"You know I'm not a patient person," I replied casually, giving her a small shrug. I reached over and gently pulled her heavy backpack from her grip, slinging it over my left shoulder to carry it for her. I tilted my head toward the door, signaling her. "Come on. Let's go to our appointment."
Alex looked completely taken aback by the gentlemanly gesture of carrying her bag, but a complicated, somewhat hesitant expression crossed her face as she glanced back at the boy across the desk.
The boy slammed his hand flat on the notebook.
"Wait, Luke," he said, his tone sharp and authoritative. "Please don't interfere. Alex and I were just reaching the conclusion for solving this question that Mr. Henderson gave us today as a challenge."
His gaze sharpened, looking me up and down with a distinct air of superiority. "It will take some time. So please, you may go for now. She'll catch up with you when we're done with the important work."
My eyes perked up on hearing that dismissive tone. It wasn't just typical middle school rudeness; it was the specific, arrogant tone of a top-tier student who thought anyone in a regular class was beneath him.
I focused my gaze on the boy. He had brown skin, neat dark hair parted to the side, and a slim, athletic build. Hmm, good posture, sharp eyes, I noted internally. Looking at his face, I can't recognize this one of the TV show, and the name wouldn't come to me from Luke's fuzzy memories also.
So, I just tilted my head, looking at him blankly, and blurted out, "Oh... then boy, who are you?"
The silence in the room was absolute.
The boy's eye visibly twitched. He looked like he had just been slapped in the face with a wet fish. His jaw tightened, and a flush of furious embarrassment colored his brown cheeks. For an honors student whose entire identity revolved around being the best, the smartest, and the most recognized, being completely unknown was the ultimate insult.
Calming himself down with a visible effort, he crossed his arms and sneered. "As expected of the school's known weird student. You don't even know the names of the prestigious students of this school. You are really very different from Alex. An earth and sky difference."
Alex tugged slightly on the sleeve of my hoodie, leaning in and whispering from the side of her mouth. "Uh... Luke. He is Sanjay Patel. He's the other top student competing with me. The whole school knows him. How could you forget?"
Sanjay Patel. Hearing the whispering, Sanjay puffed his chest out a little, his arrogant smirk returning.
I blinked. Patel. I recognized that surname. In my past life at the university, I had a few friends from India. They were awesome guys—funny, friendly, and always willing to share their amazing homemade food during late-night study sessions.
But this kid? He was completely Americanized, wrapped up in that toxic, hyper-competitive suburban bubble. He was likely just a little arrogant brat.
Not that I care, I thought, letting out a quiet sigh. I didn't want to get involved in some cheesy middle-school academic rivalry. I just wanted to walk out of this drama, explore the sports clubs, and go home to play video games.
"Oh... good for you, Sanjay," I said smoothly, my voice completely devoid of any sarcasm or anger. I just smiled pleasantly and stepped forward, extending my right hand toward him. "Thanks for helping my sister out with her studies. Have a good day."