With the inevitable momentum of sleepless time
the afeared day arrived: the first day of the
mock examinations. These torments were scheduled
over three days immediately ahead of the Christmas
holidays. The exams were designed to provide
students with feedback on their mastery (or
more importantly, the want of it) of their course
material. Howard had indulged his vice of procrastination
- procrastination that was worsened by his depression
- and had done precious little work.
In a state of trepidation he joined a bunch
of students who waited outside the exam hall
in time for the dread nine-thirty start. In
his stress related state of neurosis, and knowing
the full extent of his neglect of his work,
Howard surmised that the others much knew more
than he did. Most of the crowd stood silently
and looked shifty. A few were chatting excitedly,
wearing cocksure grins on their faces.
'
Swatty little bastards!' muttered Howard
to himself with deeply felt odium.
The loudest of the complacent students peered
out from beneath the shadow of the peak of his
baseball cap. Howard shuddered at the sight
of this being for it was none other than Karen's
hated ex, Steve. Steve giggled repeatedly as
if trying to emphasise how much he was actually
relishing the situation. It was at times like
this that Howard wished that he possessed that
vital fixation that would motivate him to transmute
his dullard efforts into glorious, shining A's.
His sweating brain likened exams with scoring
with women: he told himself that if he pumped
iron in the gym and, more importantly, if he
had the cash to buy some trendy clothes, then
he would get laid. It wasn't
his fault
that he couldn't get laid. His depression darkened.
Howard braced himself for the worst as Steve
sidled over to him.
'Hey, Howie, man, bet you is sorry you got you
banned from old Hardwick's lectures! That shit
happens good when you get you late man.'
'You ratted on me remember, shit face!'
'It's cool without you man, sorted!' Steve laughed
haughtily.
'Go and fucking die horribly, dork!'
Steve's face reddened.
'Well dude, me, I'll bet ya I'll get me way
bigger exam scores than you, dick sucker!'
With a smirk so aggravating it could have awoken
the dead and spurred them into screaming avengers,
Steve sauntered away. Howard felt his heart
thrashing as if it was trying to smash its way
out of its blind cage. He grumbled curses. His
youth and temper prevented the formation of
philosophical thoughts that might have chilled
his writhing mind. His competitive nature surfaced.
For all the world he yearned to beat Steve at
these exams, yet he knew his attempts to do
this were doomed. He had studied only cursorily.
He was certain Steve would win. This inescapable
conclusion provoked a contraction in the pit
of his stomach. He realised that Steve had twisted
the mock exams into a duel that he, Howard,
would lose. His honour would be gone and his
humiliation absolute. When victorious, Steve
would sneer and taunt him with ecstatic derision.
And he would set about his task of mockery relentlessly,
like an infernal perpetual motion machine.
Howard felt his already disturbed stomach churn
again as he spied Jacintha edging towards the
gathered throng. It astonished him that this
most punctilious of creatures was late to an
exam. Of the bookish students she was one of
the few who did not look supercilious. On the
contrary, she looked so glum she induced pity
in him. Everyone left her alone as usual and
she discreetly distanced herself from everyone,
especially from Howard, who dared not to exchange
the smallest glance with her.
Quarter of an hour behind schedule the students
were ushered into an echo-laden sports hall
that was decked out with a matrix of little
desks and chairs. On the tables were forbidding
items: lined paper to write on; a piece of string
to tie together stray pages and a mean looking
booklet that evidently embodied the dreaded
physics exam questions.
Howard found a desk from where he could observe
Jacintha. To his chagrin he noticed Steve take
the desk directly behind him. Howard pursed
his lips with displeasure. A hush filled the
room as the quietly spoken examination supervisor
issued deathly instructions to the students.
Howard didn't hear his words, for from behind
Steve was whispering crude jibes at him. Howard
seethed. Suddenly there was a horrible collective
rustling sound of the grabbing and turning of
pages. Steve muttered something under his breath
that implied that he was pleased with the questions.
Howard on the other hand, upon leafing through
the physics exam, found the questions could
hardly have been worse. He had based what little
revision he had done on
special relativity
and the exam question asked about
general
relativity. He had some knowledge of quantum
tunnelling and the exam quizzed him on quantum
spin. He felt his testicles withdraw into his
groin.
All had gone pear shaped. He crept out of the
exam half an hour early to avoid Steve and trudged
home feeling nervous and dejected. He estimated
that he had scored twenty five percent if he
was lucky and forty was required just to pass.
He dreaded that Steve would gloat like a miser
shipwrecked on a solid gold island. There would
be no bearing it. He grew determined to fight.
He resolved to revise like never before in his
life. If he could not beat Steve then at least
he could go for a score that would elevate him
above the status of University prize retard.
He paused his study only to pop out to buy fast
food and coffee from the local supermarket.
Fuelled with his single-minded mission he marched
back to Napoleon Terrace.
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