2. Cheating Buddies

“D*ng, are you all done reviewing?”

“Let me copy your notes from the lecture we had last week.”

“How many times do I need to explain this problem to you? I told you to transpose this and convert it into a negative sign.”

“It doesn’t sink in me!”

The whole class was rummaging through notes and pressing calculators. I took the time to scan the notes and math lessons last night, so no need to study the problems again. Not that being grade-conscious or someone who gets high grades is the goal, and managed to keep an average academic record, which feels acceptable enough.

“Rafael…” Kevin called me. I leaned my head close to him. He’s sitting to my left.

“What?”

“You know the drill?” he winked. “There’s a paper at the back of my calculator.” He showed me his calculator and its cover.

The paper he was referring to was sandwiched between them. It is a paper he ripped from his notebook, filled with random handwritten formulas and equations.

“The professor might catch you.”

“Not when you’re my accomplice.”

I smirked, thinking about his old school plan.

“You haven’t prepared any?” he asked.

“Any what?”

“Come on,” he whispered. “A cheat code.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t even expect a cheat sheet from you. You’re becoming more responsible and conscious of your score.”

Knowing Kevin, he’d rather copy directly from our classmates than prepare math formulas in advance to cheat.

He frowned and scratched his semi-bald head. “You didn’t prepare any?”

“None”

“You sounded confident, ah.” He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Let’s work this thing out. I’ll help you with the formulas, and you help me solve the problems, okay?” he bumped his fist to my left shoulder.

I nodded in response.

It’s not that I’m confident with my math-solving skills or have memorized everything. I want to get this done, leave the school, and go to my part-time.

“Move your chairs, one sits apart.”

The terror professor is here. Not only does he teach the least favorite subject, and doesn’t greet his students, but his vibe and stature are also terrifying.

We moved our chairs into one seat apart. This method isn’t totally reliable to avoid cheating, but this is giving us a hard time talking with our seatmates for the answers we seek.

He put his dark brown laptop bag on the teacher’s table, switched on his laptop, and brought out the exam papers.

“Get one and pass,” he commanded, looking serious with his wrinkly forehead.

Everybody received exam papers, each of which contained various mathematical questions.

“Don’t look at the exam sheet yet. Turn it down to your desk as I instruct you.”

We did what he told us. I got a glimpse of it, but my brain failed to process quickly to screen whether I could handle the problems printed on it or not.

He started walking between us and gazed at our armchairs. “Only your pen, correction fluid, blank scratch paper, calculator, and the question sheet are allowed on your table. Submit both your answer and scratch sheet. Don’t forget to write your full name and put numbers with the computations on your scratch papers. No scratch paper, I won’t be considering your answers. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” everyone answered.

“You have a maximum of two hours to answer the exam. You can leave as early after your submission. If you have questions about the exam, proceed to my desk.” He raised his right wrist and looked at his watch. We waited for a second. “You may start now.”

Our paper rustled. I flipped the exam sheet. As I read its contents, my eyes squinted. Hearing my heart beat faster added to the tension.

The points are not the same for all numbers…

The last five questionnaires were too difficult for me to solve! And each of them is 5 points each! The easy problems are 1 point, and the medium questions are 2-3 points only. Failing to answer these 5, my maximum score would only be 75% if I got all of them correct, but obviously not. I should get at least 70% to get a satisfactory result.

The professor must have had enough time making fun of us. Look, I get it. Solving complex equations is necessary. But his scoring system is barbaric. He clearly wants the weaker students to feel humiliated for not being able to solve complicated problems.

I scanned my notes last night, but didn't have enough time to really review because of my part-time job shift. Definitely underestimated that.

Grabbed my black ballpen and started reading through the exam. Without overthinking it, I began answering whatever problems my poor brain could handle. The first page of my scratch paper was filled with computations for some items. After finishing the easy and medium questions, I glared at the last five parts. Tried solving them, but I'm quite sure those aren't the right answers. Maybe I'm dumb for not being able to answer them, but at least I'm smart enough to know my fabricated answers are wrong.

Glanced at my classmates in the front row. Must be nice to sit there so confidently. Those are the smart students, the ones who don't have to hide from the professor's eyes, probably can solve math problems with their eyes closed. They stood up one by one and passed their papers. I stayed put.

“Psst,” I called Kevin. “Are you done with the last part? I’ve no answers at all.”

He’s surprisingly silent, sitting straight, and stares at the glass board in front. Was expecting him to nag me while answering.

“I haven’t answered anything, dude.” He lifted his answer sheet a bit. His paper is blank!

The wall clock was ticking faster, 35 minutes remaining! The time has passed more quickly than I imagined.

“What are you spacing out?” I whispered and looked at the professor, who was busy typing on his laptop. I waved another sheet of scratch paper with my answers on it. “Answered some problems.”