(POV: Ava)
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There's a strange emptiness that follows the end of exams.
Not the joyful, confetti-throwing kind. The other kind. The one that feels like you've been hit by a truck made of textbooks and now you're floating through time and space, unsure if you even exist anymore.
That was me. That was us.
We'd survived the storm. But none of us knew how we'd survived. And the terrifying part? The results were coming out today.
But before I get to that horror show, let me rewind a little—to the actual exam days.
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Exam Day One: Mild Panic
We walked into the exam hall like soldiers marching toward a war we kinda remembered training for.
Sophia had flashcards stuffed in every pocket like she was smuggling contraband knowledge. Her lips were moving in silent prayers—or curses. Hard to tell.
Ethan looked... shockingly composed. Until you got close enough to see the terror in his eyes. The boy was vibrating. Like a squirrel on espresso.
And me? I was talking to myself in motivational quotes.
"You got this, Ava. You are the storm. You are the—wait, is that question four? Oh my god."
Then there was Leo.
He strolled in like he'd just taken a nap. Was probably still half-asleep. Calm, relaxed, casual. Sat down, adjusted his pen like it was a delicate ritual, and proceeded to not even look nervous.
It was honestly rude.
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Exam Day Three: Peak Chaos
By then, we were all hanging on by a single thread of sanity.
Sophia had forgotten how to write the date. Ethan tried to submit his answer sheet with the question paper still stapled to it. I nearly broke down over a 15-marker that asked for "briefly explain." Briefly?! That's an oxymoron in exam language.
And Leo? Leo finished twenty minutes early. Again.
He sat with his chin in his palm, idly tapping his pen and occasionally glancing at the ceiling like it was a planetarium show.
"Are you done?" I hissed at him once.
"Mm-hmm," he whispered back. "I double-checked too."
I stared at my half-finished essay and contemplated both violence and friendship.
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Final Exam Day: The Aftermath
We walked out of the hall like survivors of some academic apocalypse.
Sophia looked hollow-eyed. Ethan was mumbling to himself about supply and demand like a broken economic robot. I couldn't even remember my own roll number.
And Leo?
Leo stretched his arms, yawned, and said, "That wasn't too bad."
We all glared at him. Again.
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Present Day: Results Day. Aka Doom Day. Aka The Day of Reckoning.
We stood outside the notice board like it was a cursed portal.
A crowd had already gathered. People were pushing, stretching, squinting. Ethan was practically clinging to me for emotional support. Sophia was clutching a copy of last year's result sheet for comparison like it might protect her. I was chanting "calm thoughts" like it was a spell.
"I'm going to start from the bottom," Ethan declared. "If my name's not there, at least I'll know early."
"Bold of you to assume you'll find it anywhere," Sophia muttered.
We began scanning the list, fingers trembling, eyes darting. I found my name first.
"Seventy-eight. Not bad. I can work with that," I said, half relieved, half still in denial.
Sophia leaned in. "Ooh! Eighty-four! Okay! We're alive! We're—Ethan, what about—"
"Sixty-six," Ethan muttered. "Respectable. Not heroic. Not shameful. Exactly how I live my life."
Then, a beat of silence.
"Wait," Sophia said slowly. "Where's Leo?"
We all leaned in, squinting now. Top ten? No sign. Middle? Nothing.
"Did he not… pass?" I whispered.
"That can't be right," Ethan said. "He was calm the whole time! He knew stuff! He helped me!"
"Maybe he didn't write his roll number correctly?" Sophia panicked.
Then someone behind us casually pointed, "Isn't that him? Up there?"
We followed their finger to the very top.
Roll Number 307.
Name: Leo.
Marks: 95%
"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME," Ethan said.
I just stared. Sophia let out a small "what."
"Did we… just not check the top?" I mumbled.
"I thought we were being funny," Sophia whispered. "Like—ha ha, imagine if Leo topped—oh my god."
Right then, Leo walked up, hands in his pockets.
"Hey," he said. "Check the results yet?"
"Leo," I said slowly. "You got ninety-five percent."
He tilted his head. "Oh, cool. Thanks."
"Cool?!" Ethan squeaked. "You're top of the list."
Leo peered at the sheet. "Oh, that's neat."
Sophia was now on the verge of an existential crisis. "But how. How did you—what—how?!"
Leo blinked. "I studied."
We all stared at him.
"No, you didn't!" I cried. "You were reading novels! You didn't even bring a bag! You helped us more than you studied!"
He shrugged. "Guess I studied enough."
I turned to Ethan. "I think we need to perform a full investigation."
Ethan nodded. "Check for brain implants. Or ancient pacts. Something."
Leo just gave us his usual, mild smile. "Want to get snacks?"
And just like that, the top scorer of the year wandered off toward the canteen. Effortless. Possibly magical.
I don't know if I should be inspired or suspicious.
Maybe both.
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(Legend says Sophia still carries that result sheet to remind herself Leo is a mystery not meant to be solved.)
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End of Chapter 26.