Argh, it’s Math again. Jude looks at me with the same expression a war veteran might wear if he were thrown back into battle with nothing but a spoon. The rest of the squad? Equally defeated. And me? I’ve already written my will in my head. I glance at the clock. 6:45 PM. It’s been 6:45 PM for an eternity. Time has stopped. Reality is broken. We are prisoners in the Matrix of equations. The teacher is still passionately yelling about how to find your x. Sir… I don’t have an ex. I have emotional damage and a mild caffeine addiction. Class is now a psychological thriller. Slow torture disguised as learning. I do some mental math on my fingers. One hour left of this purgatory. One whole hour. That’s when it hits me. Ruth. She’s not here. Her usual spot is empty, untouched, haunting. Is she sick? Did she travel? Or worse… did she get bored of my entire existence? Not having a phone is a special kind of pain. I can’t check. I can’t text. I can’t even send her a pigeon. 6:46 PM. Yep. Time’s a lie. I give my comrades the look. The one that says: “I’m abandoning ship.†I stand. In slow motion. Like a soldier rising for his final stand. Hopeful. Determined. But then… betrayal. Some guy in the front beats me to it. He raises his hand and declares: “Sir, I’m going to the toilet.†I stare at him with eyes that could start a fire. He walks off. I have to sit back down. Defeated. Shamed. Laughed at by the entire back row. Traitor. I look at the clock again. 6:46 PM. Again. The teacher glances at the wall clock, visibly confused. Even he doesn’t believe it anymore. “Does anyone have the time?†he asks. A voice from the middle row answers, “It’s 7:30, sir.†The room goes silent. My jaw drops. We’ve been here for an hour and a half, not 46 minutes. “Why didn’t you guys say anything?!†the teacher exclaims. Everyone erupts with excuses: —“The wall clock betrayed us!†—“We thought you were testing our patience!†—“We don’t have watches, sir!†Then, hope: “So no Chemistry today?†someone dares to ask. And just like that… it’s crushed. “No, let’s continue with Math,†the teacher replies. Despair. Faces fall. Eyes dull. We have entered a math apocalypse. No light at the end of this algebra tunnel. Eventually—finally—a brave soul stands up and calls out the real time. The teacher sighs. The day is over. We survived. Barely. I pack my things in a daze, mind still circling around Ruth’s absence. “Yoh, Jude,†I call out. “Hold my bag, yeah?†He grunts. “Tch. Fine. Just hurry.†He flings my bag over his shoulder like it weighs nothing. The guy doesn’t even carry a bag most days, yet here he is acting like he’s carrying the Ten Commandments. I head for the toilet. Yes, this time I actually need to go. I jog a little, glancing over my shoulder at Jude carrying my stuff like a reluctant donkey. Don’t sell my bag, Jude. I reach the corridor. And of course, the lights go out. Pitch black. Because the universe clearly hates me today. I press a hand to the wall and shuffle forward like a blind man in a haunted house. Almost there, David. Almost there. Then— Thud! I crash into someone. We both fall. “Eck!†A girl’s voice. Calm. Irritated. Embarrassed. “Could you stop holding my hair?†she says. Wait—what?! “Oh! Yeah! Sorry!†I yank my hands away, mortified. I try to sit up, eyes avoiding whatever form I just trampled. “Uh… hi? What are you doing here?†Why am I the one feeling guilty? Then—THUD. We bump heads. Perfect. “Ouch!†we both groan in sync. She groans louder. “Can’t you see?!†she snaps. Lady. It’s dark. I can’t even see myself. “I’m really sorry,†I mumble. “Didn’t mean to crash into you. I just needed the toilet.†She scoffs. “Pervert.†Excuse me? “I’m going to tell everyone.†My blood freezes. “No, no, no—I swear it wasn’t on purpose!†She ignores me and storms off. I panic-walk behind her, trying not to bump into anything else or… her again. But my bladder reminds me of its priority. I spin back around and rush into the toilet. Business handled. Hands washed. Heart still pounding. I sprint out. At the gate, Jude is waiting, annoyed as usual. “What took you so long?†he barks. “Did you see a girl pass by here?†I ask urgently. He shrugs. “A lot of girls passed here. Be specific.†I freeze. …I didn’t even see her face. A girl out there thinks I’m a walking HR hazard. The lights flicker back on.
Argh, it’s Math again. Jude looks at me with the same expression a war veteran might wear if he were thrown back into battle with nothing but a spoon. The rest of the squad? Equally defeated. And me? I’ve already written my will in my head. I glance at the clock. 6:45 PM. It’s been 6:45 PM for an eternity. Time has stopped. Reality is broken. We are prisoners in the Matrix of equations. The teacher is still passionately yelling about how to find your x. Sir… I don’t have an ex. I have emotional damage and a mild caffeine addiction. Class is now a psychological thriller. Slow torture disguised as learning. I do some mental math on my fingers. One hour left of this purgatory. One whole hour. That’s when it hits me. Ruth. She’s not here. Her usual spot is empty, untouched, haunting. Is she sick? Did she travel? Or worse… did she get bored of my entire existence? Not having a phone is a special kind of pain. I can’t check. I can’t text. I can’t even send her a pigeon. 6:46 PM. Yep. Time’s a lie. I give my comrades the look. The one that says: “I’m abandoning ship.†I stand. In slow motion. Like a soldier rising for his final stand. Hopeful. Determined. But then… betrayal. Some guy in the front beats me to it. He raises his hand and declares: “Sir, I’m going to the toilet.†I stare at him with eyes that could start a fire. He walks off. I have to sit back down. Defeated. Shamed. Laughed at by the entire back row. Traitor. I look at the clock again. 6:46 PM. Again. The teacher glances at the wall clock, visibly confused. Even he doesn’t believe it anymore. “Does anyone have the time?†he asks. A voice from the middle row answers, “It’s 7:30, sir.†The room goes silent. My jaw drops. We’ve been here for an hour and a half, not 46 minutes. “Why didn’t you guys say anything?!†the teacher exclaims. Everyone erupts with excuses: —“The wall clock betrayed us!†—“We thought you were testing our patience!†—“We don’t have watches, sir!†Then, hope: “So no Chemistry today?†someone dares to ask. And just like that… it’s crushed. “No, let’s continue with Math,†the teacher replies. Despair. Faces fall. Eyes dull. We have entered a math apocalypse. No light at the end of this algebra tunnel. Eventually—finally—a brave soul stands up and calls out the real time. The teacher sighs. The day is over. We survived. Barely. I pack my things in a daze, mind still circling around Ruth’s absence. “Yoh, Jude,†I call out. “Hold my bag, yeah?†He grunts. “Tch. Fine. Just hurry.†He flings my bag over his shoulder like it weighs nothing. The guy doesn’t even carry a bag most days, yet here he is acting like he’s carrying the Ten Commandments. I head for the toilet. Yes, this time I actually need to go. I jog a little, glancing over my shoulder at Jude carrying my stuff like a reluctant donkey. Don’t sell my bag, Jude. I reach the corridor. And of course, the lights go out. Pitch black. Because the universe clearly hates me today. I press a hand to the wall and shuffle forward like a blind man in a haunted house. Almost there, David. Almost there. Then— Thud! I crash into someone. We both fall. “Eck!†A girl’s voice. Calm. Irritated. Embarrassed. “Could you stop holding my hair?†she says. Wait—what?! “Oh! Yeah! Sorry!†I yank my hands away, mortified. I try to sit up, eyes avoiding whatever form I just trampled. “Uh… hi? What are you doing here?†Why am I the one feeling guilty? Then—THUD. We bump heads. Perfect. “Ouch!†we both groan in sync. She groans louder. “Can’t you see?!†she snaps. Lady. It’s dark. I can’t even see myself. “I’m really sorry,†I mumble. “Didn’t mean to crash into you. I just needed the toilet.†She scoffs. “Pervert.†Excuse me? “I’m going to tell everyone.†My blood freezes. “No, no, no—I swear it wasn’t on purpose!†She ignores me and storms off. I panic-walk behind her, trying not to bump into anything else or… her again. But my bladder reminds me of its priority. I spin back around and rush into the toilet. Business handled. Hands washed. Heart still pounding. I sprint out. At the gate, Jude is waiting, annoyed as usual. “What took you so long?†he barks. “Did you see a girl pass by here?†I ask urgently. He shrugs. “A lot of girls passed here. Be specific.†I freeze. …I didn’t even see her face. A girl out there thinks I’m a walking HR hazard. The lights flicker back on.