“Which assignment?” someone asked, scanning the room in confusion.

  “Look at these doofuses,” Philip muttered, irritated.

  “We weren’t all there when the accidents happened, remember?” Elinqua said, her calm tone finally settling Philip.

  “We don’t have much time. We need to submit before she leaves,” she added urgently.

  “I just hope I find facts that make me flinch,” he said, grabbing Philip’s notebook and scribbling quickly.

  “Don’t copy my answers—the teacher’ll catch on,” Philip warned.

  “That’s only if I copy verbatim,” Elinqua shot back, not looking up.

  “Relax. I’ll just start with your number two…” He mumbled as he scanned the page.

  “…‘Shaving hair makes it grow back thicker,’” he wrote.

  “‘Glass is a liquid…’ Not funny, but it tickles the brain,” he thought.

  “‘Thomas Edison invented the lightbulb…’ Wait, what? He didn’t? Who did then?” His thoughts spiraled as he copied point after point.

  “You got this from Meta AI, didn’t you?” he asked—but Philip had vanished.

  “Philip?” he called out.

  “Where’d he go?” Elinqua muttered, annoyed.

  Just then, Philip reappeared beside him.

  “Where were you?”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “I went to get supplements,” Philip said, tossing another notebook onto the desk. “Didn’t I tell you I’d be right back?”

  They both bent over their books, filling in the rest of the answers, carefully interspersing their responses to avoid suspicion.

  They had never taken an assignment this seriously. Failure to submit could have dire consequences—not just academically, but physically, emotionally, and socially. Especially with the ever-watchful eyes of the brute soldiers.

  But they made it. Elinqua and Philip submitted their work just in time.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur for most, but for Elinqua, time dragged—his mind fixated on the mysterious secrets hidden in the infrared glass.

  “Your seatmate’s not here today?” Philip asked quietly. They were in Social Studies now, copying notes from the board.

  Elinqua shook his head.

  “They assigned homework—we’re supposed to submit today,” Philip whispered, concerned.

  “Maybe he’s sick,” Elinqua said thoughtfully.

  It made sense. His seatmate had been absent before and returned two days later explaining he had malaria.

  “I think he’s just ill,” Elinqua whispered, pausing his writing.

  “Why do you think that?” Philip asked. “What if he traveled?”

  “I saw his medical report. His genotype is AA. He told me last time it was malaria. People with AA genotypes are more prone to it.”

  “You could’ve just said he was sick last time,” Philip muttered.

  “You know I don’t fancy science, let alone explanations coiled around it” Philip added.

  Most students would’ve been caught chatting, but not these two. Their friendship had matured to the point of silent communication.

  In fact, if there was a competition two friends in the world who could not be caught communicating silently, they would make it to the top ranking list.

  After a few moments of focus, Elinqua yawned.

  "It is one thing to teach, it is another thing for boredom to explain it differently" Elinqua thought as he smiled lightly.

  “What time is it?” he asked, eyes watering from boredom.

  “10:40 a.m.,” Philip replied.

  “As boring as ever,” Elinqua groaned, suppressing his frustration.

  He composed himself quickly, then whispered again:

  “They never spare us from these dry, unapplicable subjects. How annoying!"

  "My brain needs equations. Without them, my butt’s about to rise in protest.”

  Philip chuckled. “But this is still one of your favorite subjects, right?”

  “Kinda true. But today, even my buttocks are screaming justice at this point” Elinqua said with mock seriousness.

  “Really?” Philip grinned.

  “Yes! They’re campaigning for independence.”

  “People say it leaks yellow stuff, but right now—it’s protesting, loud and proud.”

  “The problem is, no one hears it.”

  Philip squinted and pointed. “That’s how protestant it is?”

  “There’s always light at the end of the tunnel. Don’t give up, man, you are almost there!" Philip encouraged, giving Elinqua a soft pat on the back—well, lower back.

  Elinqua nearly burst into laughter but managed to stifle it, hand covering his mouth.

  A few classmates turned to look at him suspiciously.

  “Who’s that?” the teacher barked, turning to scan the class.

  But Elinqua had already composed his face, blending perfectly with the rest.

  The teacher’s eyes swept the room one last time.

  “Let me catch one person—just one—and they’ll be my scapegoat!” he growled, before turning back to the board.

  “Not today,” Elinqua whispered.

  “You know you were this close to getting caught?” Philip said.

  “What an unfortunate 'close', it only count in horseshoes” Elinqua smirked.

  “What time is it now?”

  “10:56.”

  “Break time! Finally,” Elinqua said, returning to his notes.

  He said this knowing well that break time ought to be -1 minutes from now, the time keeper should be on his way to the jingling spot.

  Maybe that was why this time keeper had not rang the bell since 'one minutes to the back'.