The announcement hit like thunder on a quiet day.
A surprise mock exam — across all subjects. No exemptions. Two days to prepare.
Some students panicked. Others pretended to stay cool. But inside, we all felt it — this was more than just a mock. It was the school's way of separating the focused from the careless.
I felt a storm brewing in my chest.
Two days. That's all we had.
Tope stayed calm. She drew out a study schedule for both of us, dividing our time down to the hour. We even studied through breaks, quizzing each other under the shade of our favorite tree.
"You've got this," she'd say. "You've been preparing for this moment long before you even realized it."
But when the morning came, nerves crept back in. As we filed into the exam hall, I felt my heart pounding in my ears.
The physics paper hit first.
The first question looked like gibberish.
I glanced around — everyone else was focused. Even Tope had her head down, scribbling fast. I stared at the question again. Then another. Then another.
Blank.
My brain froze.
What if I fail? What if this is the end? What if Tope sees I'm not as smart as she thinks? What if—
Then I remembered her voice:
"Clear your mind. Focus."
I took a deep breath. One slow inhale. One exhale.
Then, I began.
One question at a time. One formula. One diagram. One answer. Slowly, it started to click. I wasn't racing anyone. I was just trying to finish what I started.
By the time the bell rang, I wasn't done — but I was proud of how far I got.
I met Tope outside. She gave me a small smile. "How was it?"
I shrugged. "Hard. But I didn't give up."
She nodded. "That's what matters most."
And for the first time in a long time, I believed that.