The classroom had fallen into a tense, uneasy quiet.
Felix stared at the question paper in front of him, the white sheet feeling heavier than it should have. The ticking of the wall clock sounded louder than usual, each second pressing against his thoughts.
For a brief moment, panic tried to creep in.
English.
Of all subjects, it had always been the one that unsettled him the most. Not because he didn't understand the language, but because it demanded something more than correctness. It demanded clarity of thought. Expression. Confidence in one's own voice.
In the past, that was where Felix had faltered.
But today, instead of freezing, he leaned back slightly and took a slow breath.
'Analyse first,' he told himself.
The instructions were clear.
An essay of around three hundred words. Fifteen to twenty minutes.
Ten minutes for comprehension.
Three essay options were listed.
Felix scanned them carefully.
One was about technological advancement. Safe. Predictable.
Another focused on environmental responsibility. Familiar territory.
The second option, however, made his eyes pause.
"Write an essay on how students should choose their path for the future."
Felix's grip on the pen tightened.
For a second, it felt as if the question had been written specifically for him.
He could almost hear Vincent Sir's voice in his head—Don't dramatize. Think.
Felix lowered his gaze to the paper and began structuring his thoughts.
Introduction. Personal stance. Reflection. Conclusion.
He wasn't trying to be poetic. He wasn't trying to impress.
He just wanted to be honest. Honest with himself.
Felix started writing.
Not as a student chasing marks, but as someone who had learned—painfully—what happened when decisions were made out of convenience instead of conviction.
He wrote about how students often followed paths laid out by others, parents, or society. How praise, expectations, and comparisons subtly shape decisions. How easy it was to mistake approval for purpose.
Without naming himself, without revealing too much, Felix wrote about hesitation. About going along with choices because they felt "safe." About realizing too late that safety could become a cage.
'Even if the path is unclear,' he wrote, 'it should still be chosen by the person who must walk it.'
He didn't claim certainty. He didn't claim confidence.
He wrote that confusion was natural—but surrendering one's choice was not.
When Felix finally looked up, nearly half the allotted time was gone.
He moved on to the comprehension section, reading the passage carefully. This time, he didn't rush. He underlined keywords, framed answers properly, and resisted the urge to overcomplicate.
When Vincent called for papers, Felix set his pen down with a quiet exhale.
He didn't feel triumphant.
But he didn't feel defeated either.
That alone was new.
Vincent William sat at his desk after collecting the sheets, sleeves rolled up, flipping through answer sheets with practiced speed.
Most papers took seconds.
Skim. Mark. Move on.
When he reached Felix Vedman's sheet, he slowed.
Not intentionally—his eyes simply lingered.
The handwriting wasn't exceptional. The vocabulary wasn't flashy. There were grammatical imperfections in phrasing that could have been tighter.
Yet Vincent paused.
He read the essay once.
Then again, slower.
'Interesting,' he thought.
The arguments weren't academically refined—but they were deliberate. Thought-out. Earnest. This wasn't a student filling pages for marks. This was someone who had actually engaged with the question.
Vincent tapped his pen against the desk lightly.
Felix Vedman had always been decent in English, never outstanding. This paper didn't change that fact.
But something else had changed.
. . . . .
When Felix stood near the desk later to collect his paper, Vincent looked up at him.
"You took this seriously," Vincent said flatly.
Felix blinked. "Yes, sir."
"It's not exceptional," Vincent added. "But it's honest."
Felix nodded.
Vincent held his gaze for a second longer. "That matters more than people realize."
Then he slid the paper forward.
"Don't make a habit of forgetting tests," Vincent said dryly. "But don't stop thinking either."
Felix felt something shift inside his chest.
"Thank you, sir," he said quietly.
Vincent waved him away. "Go. Sit back at your seat."
Felix returned to his seat, heart steadier than it had been all morning.
It wasn't praise.
But it wasn't dismissal either.
He looks at his marks, and a small smile appears on his face.
RING RING
The lunch bell rang, and the tension dissolved into noise as students poured out of the classrooms.
Felix, Nikhil, and Dev regrouped near the corridor.
"So?" Nikhil asked immediately. "How much?"
Felix shrugged. "37 out of 50."
Dev smirked. "That's your highest till now, I think.."
Nikhil grinned. "I knew it. Now what, scoring full marks in English also?"
Felix rolled his eyes. "Coming from the guy who thinks grammar is optional."
"Hey," Nikhil protested, "communication is about confidence."
Dev laughed. "Spoken like someone who spelled 'confidence' wrong last week."
They decided to eat at the school canteen instead of heading outside.
Felix and Dev pulled out their lunchboxes, while Nikhil wandered off to buy something greasy and overpriced.
"This school should pay my father commission," Nikhil said when he returned. "I single-handedly keep this canteen running."
"To remind you, your father is the school trusty," Dev remarked.
"Ahh, yes, yes." Nikhil made a funny expression.
Felix smiled faintly, unwrapping his food.
For a few minutes, the world felt normal.
They talked about teachers, complained about homework, joked about Nikhil's bike attracting unnecessary attention.
"I swear," Dev said, "half the school knows about it already."
Nikhil puffed his chest. "As they should."
Felix shook his head. "Don't get fined before lunch."
"No promises."
They finished eating and stood up, moving toward their usual spot near the side building.
The hallway narrowed.
The noise dimmed slightly.
Then—
"Hey, stop," a voice came.
They stopped.
Someone stood in their path.
Felix recognized the voice before the face.
Relaxed. Confident. Deliberate.
Kunal stepped forward, hands in his pockets, a crooked smile on his face. Two familiar figures flanked him, blocking the corridor just enough to force a pause.
"Well," Kunal said casually, eyes flicking from Nikhil to Dev before settling on Felix, "look who's walking together."
Felix's expression didn't change.