He walked into the hall in a light-blue native with stripes.

I personally didn't like the colour, but I'll let that slide.

Apparently, being intelligent earns you some fashion immunity.

He held out the attendance sheet as he explained how we were to sign on it for our exams.

Yes, I'm writing his exams.

My exams.

There were three other lecturers in the hall but between me and you I couldn't care less about them.

They shared the paper.

Apparently, we were writing theory.

I stared at the paper and the answer booklet.

It wasn't about the liver he was talking about last time.

It wasn't about anything I had in my notes

Atleast, not in the parts I was listening to.

It was his course

A different one

One with only a course outline

A few discussions

No PDFs or notes

Just you and the possibilities that you attended the classes.

Quite frankly, I didn't.

But there is light at the end of this tunnel

I hate failing, so

I read.

I mean..

I read a lot.

I start writing, He starts walking around casually like he doesn't know he's making me anxious.

I know he doesn't

But that isn't an excuse.

The exams goes on for the first hour and I'm still writing.

I ask around for the parts I don't know

I get answers and I give answers back

The next thirty minutes gets hotter

He tells two girls to stand up but that doesn't stop me from asking or telling

Time is of the essence and I will maximize mine, intelligent man or not

A girl asks me for an answer and I'm telling her as quickly as I can and he calls me

"Tallest"

My heart pounds

"Sir"

He looks away and I continue writing

I guess he sees me after all