Totally Unexpected

“Pssst….” Jared called the attention of his seatmate across him while his teacher was in the restroom. “What’s the answer to number 36?”

All he needed was one correct answer, and he was sure to pass the test. He was positive about the 49 answers he gave to other questions, but he needed one more correct answer to be at least 50/100 (the new education system made the passing score 50%, thank God). Standardized tests are supposed to be multiple choices, so why did his teacher have to stick away from the norm and make it identification? And of all exams that decided to use this format, it just had to be math.

Usually, he could care less about failing an exam in math, but he failed to pass the subject project on time and got a big fat zero for it. His teacher had a word-to-word talk with him after that, saying that the only way to pass this subject and not attend summer classes was to pass the big exam.

Jared really did study for it. He swore off video games for a week and made sure to spend time studying on topics he was sure that he would never use in real life. Like seriously, does a veterinarian have to solve the slope of the line, or find x² if all the remaining letters of the alphabet are missing too? And goodness gracious, he’s only in high school; why does there have to calculus involved in the mix?

He’s a good guy in school. He never bullied his peers or blackmailed his teachers. It wouldn’t hurt if he just cheated only once to get a single correct answer, right?

“Pssst…. Al,” he called again after seeing that he wasn’t acknowledged the first time, “number 36?”

He tried tapping his ball pen (teachers here insist on using a ball pen to prevent erasures) rather loudly to get her to look at him. He instead caught the attention of the guy two seats in front of him. He glared at him and got shushed at. Al, on the other hand, looked like she didn’t hear a thing.

He tried talking again, but this time, with a louder voice. “Come on, Al. Just number 36. Please?”

Still no response. It was expected of the quiet transferee from the other section who happens to be one of the best students in math. He wasn’t sure about the best student part since this was his first time being in the same room as her. The seating arrangement for exam week was always mixed up to avoid classmates working together and cheating.  According to them she wasn’t the type to tattle, so it was safe to ask, but getting an answer out of her would be nearly impossible.

The keyword here is nearly, so he tried again. Whoever was supposed to sit in front of him was absent today, and he was at the very corner of the room near the trash can. His only hope was Al or some idiot whose answers he would most definitely not trust would raise his/her test paper while stretching. He leaned his arm chair towards hers and pleaded softly. “Al, just one number would do. One.”

She still paid him no attention like he was only a gust of annoying wind. Jared was about to grab her shoulder and shake her lightly when his teacher entered the room. He quickly went back to his original position before he looked in his direction.

Jared looked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard. 3:55. Only 10 more minutes until time’s up. He couldn’t give up just yet. Thinking that this would catch her attention for sure, he tore up a bit of his scratch paper and wrote, answer to 36 =). He then crumpled it into a ball and discretely threw it at the girl, making sure it would land on her desk instead of hitting her head. In that exact same moment as his teacher approached his area, he pretended to be very engrossed in his paper.

When his teacher’s back was finally facing him, he looked at Al. He didn’t know whether to be more disappointed at her observation skills or his throwing skills because the paper that was supposed to land on her desk was underneath the desk.

He attempted to make another ball but was caught in the act. “Jared, what are you doing?”

Jared attempted to lie on the spot. “Oh, nothing, Mr. Applewood. Crumpling paper helps me… ummmm… relieve my stress?” He tried to give him a reassuring smile that probably looked more like he just peed his pants.

“Is my test really that hard?” Mr. Applewood chuckled. “Well, you better hurry up. You only have eight minutes left.”

Jared sighed and silently cursed his teacher. It’s like he was hired specifically to make him fail. The 17-year-old bet he was so eager to know that his student will fail yet again and join summer classes. Extra money for him.

He decided to wing it and put random answers on everything except number 36–the only blank question that didn’t require a solution for it to be correct.

Minutes later, the school bell rang. Whispers of, “Thank God; I finished on time,” and “Damn, that test was hard,” echoed in the classroom. Mr. Applewood announced over the bell, “Please pass your test papers!”

One of the girls seated in front of Al went to her and said something. At this signal, Al got up from her seat, test paper in hand, along with the majority of the students inside. In a last desperate attempt, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her. “What’s the answer to number 36?”

The transferee finally acknowledged him. Despite her long dark hair covering half her face, Jared could tell that she looked a bit confused. She hastily tucked her test paper under her armpit and held her hands up and off to the side a bit. She then wiggled her fingers. Al grabbed her test paper again and left him.

This time, Jared was the one confused. “What does that mean? You don’t know either? Al? Al!”

“Please pass your test papers,” Mr. Applewood repeated. “Jared, I’m looking at you.”

Jared cursed under his breath and scrawled, x=2, on the answer line. He begrudgingly gave the test paper to his teacher.

On his way out of the classroom, Jared felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned around and saw Al. This time, he could clearly see her face since her hair was put up in a ponytail. “Excuse me. What were you saying earlier?” Al asked timidly.

“Forget it. We already passed the exams,” Jared said, disappointment clearly heard in his voice.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Al gave him a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t wearing my hearing aid earlier.”

“Your what?”

“Hearing aid,” she said, a bit amused at his shock. She moved her head a little to the side and showed one of her earpieces. “I’m hard of hearing, so I have to wear these most of the time. I usually take them off during the exams to save batteries.”

“So that’s why you couldn’t hear me when I asked for number 36,” he muttered.

“Number 36? That one was easy. The answer’s y=2.” Al adjusted her backpack then went on her way. “See you around!”

Jared was still in shock and stuck in place. Would the teacher at least give a bonus point for getting the number right?