(This is a short chap)
Age 13
Stephen shut off his alarm at six and rolled out of bed before it could ring again.
His notebook stayed closed on the desk. The TI-81 sat in the same spot he left it the night before. He pulled on jeans and a shirt, checked his pockets out of habit, and tightened his shoelaces until the knot stopped slipping. The hallway outside his door already had traffic, footsteps pacing past, a door opening, a door closing, then a pause that never fully became quiet.
Paige's knock landed on his door. Two slow, three fast, two slow.
Stephen opened it. Paige stood there in a sweatshirt that looked two sizes too big, bouncing slightly on her heels like she had too much energy and nowhere to put it.
"You seem excited," Stephen said.
"We are following our own path," Paige said. "I know we will pass. Everyone else is treating this like a funeral."
Stephen kept his voice low. A couple students moved down the hall with folders hugged to their chests like shields. "Do not be too showy. Everyone else is struggling. Let us get breakfast."
Paige's mouth twitched like she wanted to argue, then she nodded once. She fell into step beside him.
Coffee drifted across campus as they walked.
The cafeteria lights made everything look tired. Trays scraped. A stack of pamphlets about tutoring sat on a table by the entrance, untouched. Stephen took a single pancake and orange juice. Paige took waffles. They sat near the wall, close enough to watch the room without turning their chairs. Students leaned over piles of flashcards, caps off highlighters, pages turning fast, not because they were reading, because they needed their hands to keep moving.
Paige ate two bites, then slowed.
Stephen watched a group at the next table flip through a chemistry textbook like it was a deck of cards. Someone near the drink station kept refilling their cup and walking away without taking a sip.
Paige's gaze slid across the room and came back to Stephen. "This is ridiculous."
"It is predictable," Stephen said.
Paige's eyebrows rose. "You are going to call panic predictable."
Stephen cut his pancake with the side of his fork. "People act the same when they are afraid of failing."
Paige stared at him, then took another bite. She did not look satisfied, but she let it go.
They walked to Gregory Gymnasium for the first major exam. Desks covered the court in long rows, each one holding pencils and a thick blue booklet. The floor looked freshly waxed. The air felt cooler inside than it should have.
Stephen leaned in toward Paige as they threaded between desks. "Should I wear a hat backwards?" he whispered. "It is a trend."
"Do not," Paige said.
They sat. Stephen set his calculator on the desk. Paige pulled her Mountain Dew out of her bag and kept it capped. The proctor read the rules without looking up. The room settled into the only kind of silence a crowded room could hold.
Stephen opened the blue booklet and worked straight through. He did not stop to watch anyone else. He did not lift his head until he reached the last page. Thirty minutes in, Stephen finished. He closed the blue booklet, packed his bag, and walked to the front to turn it in.
He glanced back once on the way out.
Paige's pencil had stopped, but she was not frozen. She stared up at the ceiling like she was building the next step in her head before she let her hand move again.
Stephen waited outside the gym doors with his backpack strap looped around his hand. Students trickled out in uneven batches. Some avoided looking at him. He did not care.
Paige came out fifteen minutes later. Her smile showed up as soon as she saw him, like it had been waiting in her pocket.
"Lunch?" Paige asked.
Stephen nodded.
They went back to the dining hall. The radio behind the counter usually sat under pop music. Today the DJ voice came on without a song behind it.
"Austin police are investigating a fire at a North Austin yogurt shop," the announcer said. "The I Can't Believe It's Yogurt on West Anderson Lane."
Chairs stopped scraping. A few conversations cut off mid-sentence.
"Four victims," the report continued. "Teenage girls. The youngest was thirteen."
Paige's fork hit the tray.
Stephen did not look away from the counter. He watched the line slow, watched a student step out of it and leave without food, watched someone else stand still with their cash in their hand like they forgot what they were holding. The room did not erupt. It shifted, small and fast, like everyone had the same thought and refused to say it out loud.
Stephen reached across the table and took Paige's hand.
"We need to go to the afternoon session," Stephen said.
Paige looked at him and swallowed once. She stood without finishing her plate.
They walked out of the dining hall together. Students moved in pairs now, not arranged, not announced, just drifting closer to each other like it was the only sensible choice. Stephen kept his pace steady. Paige stayed beside him.
The afternoon exam started on time. Proctors watched the doors more than the desks. Stephen worked anyway. The questions did not change because something terrible happened across town. Paper still waited for answers.
Stephen finished, turned in his test, and waited in the hallway. Paige came out a few minutes later. She did not smile this time.
They walked back to the dorm wing and went inside before the sun dropped.
The rest of finals week kept moving. Radios stayed on. People talked in clipped fragments, then stopped and changed subjects. Stephen and Paige still scored high. Nobody clapped for it. Nobody wanted to look like they were celebrating anything.
Friday came and the campus started emptying. Suitcases rolled over sidewalks. Parents' cars pulled up and loaded boxes. Groups formed at the edges of the parking lots, people saying goodbye too quickly, then leaving.
Stephen went back to his room that night and shut the door. He sat on the bed and listened to the building settle into quieter sounds, less movement, fewer voices.
Stephen opened his drawer and found Meemaw's lighter.
Stephen flipped it open. The flame held steady. He watched it until his eyes started to sting, then snapped it shut.
Thanks for reading, feel free to write a comment, leave a review, and Power Stones are always appreciated.