(POV: Ava)
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It started, as most disasters do, with a perfectly normal school day.
The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and somewhere in the building, I'm pretty sure someone was already crying into a textbook. So, you know, a typical Tuesday.
I was halfway through stabbing my pen into my pencil case like it owed me money when the classroom door banged open.
"Exam schedule's out!" someone shouted.
My pen immediately snapped in half.
Sophia, sitting next to me, dropped her phone. Ethan visibly aged ten years. And Leo—Leo was balancing a spoon on his nose.
I turned to him slowly. "Leo. Did you hear that?"
The spoon clattered onto the desk. "Hmm?"
"Exams. Are. Here."
He blinked once. "Oh. Nice."
Nice?
Sophia leaned across the desk. "I don't know how he's not panicking. I am very much panicking."
Ethan was already halfway under his desk. "Do you think if I hide long enough, they'll cancel the exams out of pity?"
I snorted. "You're not a possum, Ethan."
Sophia muttered something about flashcards and started hyperventilating into her notebook. I, meanwhile, was going through the five emotional stages of academic doom.
Denial.
Anger.
More anger.
Snack break.
Planning revenge on whoever invented exams.
"Okay," I said, slamming my hands on the desk. "We can do this. We've done this before."
Sophia nodded rapidly. "We make a schedule. We follow the schedule. We cry into the schedule."
"Solid plan," Ethan said. "Do we want to study together or go solo?"
"Let's prep individually," I said. "That way we can meet later and compare how far behind we all are."
Leo raised a hand. "I'm not behind."
We all glared at him in unison.
He just went back to spinning his pencil like a wind turbine. Unbothered. Untouched by mortal stress.
---
Ava's Study Session (a.k.a. Academic Wrestling Match)
I started with full confidence. Like, peak motivation. Clean desk, water bottle, playlist titled "I Am the Main Character," and snacks that could feed a small village.
Ten minutes in, I was curled on the floor whispering, "Who even uses trigonometry in real life?"
My notes had already betrayed me by being in my own handwriting, which meant illegible hieroglyphics and panic-induced doodles of screaming stick figures. Every time I tried to concentrate, my mind wandered off like a cat with ADHD.
I tried reading aloud.
I tried highlighting.
I even tried watching an online lecture, but I blacked out halfway and woke up to a YouTube ad about goat yoga.
Eventually, I gave up and just rewrote the heading on the first page five times in different fonts. For "aesthetic."
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Sophia's Study Session (a.k.a. Organized Chaos)
Sophia's desk looked like a war room.
Color-coded folders. Sticky notes in gradient patterns. Timers. Flashcards. A whiteboard with things circled, underlined, and possibly cursed.
She had her hair in a bun and a mug that said "Study Witch," and I swear she had cast at least three minor spells before breakfast.
Unfortunately, her brain short-circuited the moment she hit a confusing paragraph. She would read the same sentence twelve times, whisper "I'm fine" through gritted teeth, then start making new flashcards as a coping mechanism.
At one point she just stood up and reorganized her entire bookshelf to avoid eye contact with Chapter 5.
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Ethan's Study Session (a.k.a. The Decline and Fall of Human Civilization)
Ethan tried, bless him.
He really did.
He set up his notes. Opened his book. Took a deep breath. Turned on lo-fi music. Very aesthetic. Very "study vlog" vibes.
Then he checked his phone.
And suddenly it was three hours later and he was in the middle of a video essay about the philosophical implications of time travel in cartoons.
When he realized how much time had passed, he went full guilt spiral. He opened five textbooks at once like he was summoning an ancient demon and ended up confusing his notes with someone else's handout entirely.
There was a brief moment where he considered inventing a time machine. Then he gave up and texted us:
> "Do you think Leo's secretly part cyborg? Like, not full robot, just enhanced somehow."
---
Two days before the exam, we ended up in the library. As suggested.
It was quieter than usual. That sort of stillness where you can hear your own despair echoing off the walls. We claimed the big table near the back and immediately spread our books across it like we were building a fort.
Leo was already there. With a novel.
Not a textbook. Not notes.
A novel.
He looked up when we arrived. "Oh hey. I saved the good seats."
"You're reading fiction?" I asked.
He held up the book. It had a dramatic cover and a title that translated roughly to "The Eternal Quest of the Crimson Soul: Volume 8."It was a murder mystery. In Japanese. None of us even knew he spoke Japanese.
Sophia squinted. "You know Japanese?"
Leo flipped a page. "Ohh, it's translated. I just like the cover art."
I stared at him. "We're drowning in syllabus, and you're out here casually reading translated fantasy novels for the cover art?"
Leo flipped a page and nodded. "Well the novel's nice too."
---
After calming down we decided what we need to study, while Leo just sat there casually reading the novel like there were no exams.
Sophia was hunched over a complex diagram, whispering to herself like it might come alive and explain itself. "Okay, if this is a functionalist view of education—then what does Marxism say—wait, where does conflict theory fit—"
"Turn it sideways," Leo said, without looking up.
Sophia frowned. "What?"
"Your diagram. Turn the notebook sideways."
She did. Her eyes widened. "Oh. It actually… connects like that. Oh my god."
"Nice," Leo said, flipping a page in his novel.
Ethan groaned next. "Okay, but why is GDP adjusted for inflation again? Like, isn't the number enough?"
"Because if your chocolate bar cost one rupee last year and two this year, you'd think the economy doubled," Leo answered calmly.
Ethan stared at him. "I just wanted an excuse to eat a chocolate bar."
Leo didn't miss a beat. "Then use it as a metaphor for currency devaluation. Double win."
Ethan made a note with his mouth slightly open, like he was witnessing divine wisdom.
I tried to resist asking for help, but after twenty minutes of fighting with a political theory essay, I gave in. "Hey, Leo. What's the difference between positive liberty and negative liberty again?"
He tilted his head, eyes still on his book. "Positive liberty is about having the power and resources to act upon your free will. Negative liberty is freedom from interference."
I blinked. "Why does that actually make sense?"
Sophia looked up from her flashcards. "He explained that better than the textbook did."
I slumped on the table and muttered not expecting any answers. "Just what devil made exams."
Leo just stated."Henry Fischel, an American businessman and philanthropist, in the late 19th century. "
I gaped. "Why do you even know that?! It's not even in the syllabus."
Leo simply shrugged."Just some common trivia."
Then Sophia muttered, "I don't know whether to be grateful or deeply concerned."
---
We started packing up as it was almost closing time. Sophia looked half-dead. Ethan looked like he had personally fought and lost a war. I… well, I was still pretending my highlighter color-coding was doing something useful.
And Leo? He stood up, stretched, and bookmarked the last chapter of his novel.
"How far did you get?" I asked.
He yawned. "Almost done."
Seriously the guy infuriates me.
As we walked out into the twilight, a little breeze brushing past the courtyard, Sophia glanced sideways. "He didn't even bring a bag."
I looked at Leo.
Sure enough—no backpack. No notes. Just that one novel in his hand.
"I bet," Ethan whispered, "if we open that book, it'll have all the answers."
Leo looked back at us with a small smile. "It really doesn't."
___
End of Chapter 24.