The second day of school began almost the same as the first. Miss Critchlow maintained her serious attitude, and Amelia herself centered attitude, but Kayleigh acted as her polar opposites. However, during the lesson, I noticed students were using their phones and even their laptops.
But Miss Critchlow didn't say anything—she continued teaching as if this was the new norm. I knew higher education was more relaxed about what you could do during class, but I didn't expect this.
I guess you can't expect students who cheat to stay focused during an actual lesson. And if that's the case, then why teach us real subjects at all? They even gave us a textbook for history class. After thinking about it, I decided it must be for the students who didn't plan on cheating—whoever they were.
Nonetheless, Miss Critchlow's class soon ended, and we were off to our next class before lunch. I actually looked forward to this one because it was Physical Education—or, as we used to call it in secondary school, games class.
But this wasn't quite like secondary school. Or maybe, in a way, it was.
You see, the ISC doesn't just teach you how to catch cheaters during exams—it also teaches you how to catch cheaters in sports.
And that's what our games class focused on: training us to identify the various ways people cheat in sports such as tennis, cricket, basketball, and more. Our first sport was basketball, which turned out to be quite an interesting session.
Apparently, some basketball players trained themselves to move their hands extremely fast so they could strike pressure points on other players to throw them off balance—while doing it fast enough not to get caught.
It was complicated and sophisticated, but somehow it had worked for many popular teams over the years. However, due to technological advancements, this trick has become outdated in the international scene. Still, there's a belief that players use it in games that are less monitored.
The main part of our games class ended about 30 minutes before the scheduled end of the period. So, just like in secondary school, we had some free time before lunch.
The indoor basketball court was brimming with energy. The boys were in the middle of a competitive basketball match, and some of the girls—including Kayleigh—were chatting in a corner. The rest of the class was scattered across the auditorium.
I sat on the sidelines watching the boy's play. Once again, I was alone. Yesterday's failure to connect with anyone didn't deter me, but it's hard to choose the right person to approach.
It was only the second day, but people were already starting to match with others who shared their interests. Even if I managed to survive this first exam, it was only a matter of time before the class broke into distinct friend groups—and without friends, I wouldn't survive long at the ISC.
It was an unfortunate situation to be in. But the class itself didn't seem too concerned. Everyone was enjoying themselves, although I noticed a sense of quiet urgency—not from those playing, but from students like me sitting on the sidelines.
And don't get me wrong—I don't expect people to constantly worry about life's problems. Humans have a strange ability to find silver linings in any situation. The world could be ending next week, and we'd still throw a picnic on Wednesday.
Maybe this was their silver lining. But I hoped that's all it was. An unconcerned attitude about the upcoming exam wouldn't bode well—especially if the school had more surprises in store.
"You're deep in thought," someone said beside me.
"Yeah," I answered as they took a seat on the bench.
"If it were girls playing netball, I'd think you were a pervert—but you don't seem like you're into men, so what's on your mind?"
I looked over my shoulder. It was Shaq, the boy who sat next to me in class. He was pretty talkative. This morning, while I sat quietly, he'd been talking to a few guys about a gaming console selling for 1100 points. Apparently, they planned to pool their points to buy it.
"Nothing much. Just the usual stuff," I replied.
"Be honest. It's the exam, isn't it?"
"You read me well."
"That's on everyone's mind. That's why we're meeting up tomorrow to discuss it."
"We?" I asked.
"Yeah. Me and a few other classmates. Wanna join us? By the way, what's your name?"
"Jaden. And sure—I'll join. But why me?"
I wondered—lately, people had started interacting with me, even though I hadn't approached anyone. Did I have some kind of charm? Or did I just look approachable?
"You're quiet. That's all. You seemed like someone I could talk to."
Ah. That made sense. Everyone else was playing basketball or chatting. Meanwhile, I was just sitting there by myself.
The conversation continued for a bit until the class ended. As we were heading toward the door, a girl stood in front of it and called out.
"Wait—before y'all go! I want to make a suggestion."
The whole class stopped walking, though two students slipped past her and exited.
"I think we should work together for this exam. It's great that we're having fun, but shouldn't we also focus on getting through this together?"
No one said anything at first—until a boy spoke up. He was average height with a low taper fade.
"She's right. The exam's coming up fast, and I'm sure y'all haven't made any plans to cheat yet. This isn't secondary school—we don't know what tricks they'll pull on us."
"You don't know that. And why should I team up with anyone? I don't want to increase my chances of getting expelled," another voice cut in.
The class nodded in agreement—and so did I.
If the whole class teamed up, everyone would likely get similar marks, or the differences would be minimal. That would make it harder to stay out of the bottom 25%.
Still, I wondered: if we all got the same mark, could we avoid expulsion entirely? But what would the school's response be?
"Think about it," the girl continued. "Would they really expel ten new students? The school's testing our ability to work together."
"Or you're just delusional," came that all-too-familiar voice—Amelia.
Everyone turned to look at her, though she already stood out due to her height.
"I'm positive the school intends to expel ten of us," she said. "Everything points to that—but I guess y'all haven't noticed."
She was right. The reduced enrollment. Almost 300 students missing from a school that claims 100% enrollment each year. A significant number of students were clearly being expelled every semester.
Then there's expulsion for failing—and the empty seats in the upper classes. Everything pointed to them being serious.
"I don't like your attitude," another boy said. "But she's right. If the whole class teams up, we're shooting ourselves in the foot. Y'all can group up if you want, but I ain't teaming with anyone."
He walked off, and one by one, the rest of the class followed. I joined the crowd heading outside. The girl who had spoken stood there, embarrassed. I'm sure she had good intentions—and maybe there was more to this than just expulsion.
But her pitch wasn't convincing enough. Maybe if Kayleigh had said it, we'd all be in a group chat right now forming a plan. She had that energy that made you want to go along with whatever she said.
As I walked down the hallway, someone called from behind.
"Jaden!"
It was a girl's voice. I turned around.
Kayleigh was galloping toward me.
Now Kayleigh wants to talk to me? Maybe I do have charm. But I had a feeling it wouldn't help in this conversation.
She stopped in front of me, breathing heavily as she caught her breath.
"You have a minute?" she asked, beaming.
"Yeah, I guess. What's up?"
I was curious to hear what she had to say.