MISTAKE TO MASTERPIECE!💋

Episode 6 - The Set Up!

The notice went up on the class board right after the Monday morning assembly.

Inter-Class Academic Challenge – Representatives Needed.

Salem wasn’t paying much attention at first. She was busy packing her books into her locker when a soft, sugary voice called from behind her.

“Salem, congratulations.”

She turned to see Amara standing there, holding the paper from the board. “I just saw your name on the list. You’ve been chosen to represent our class for the Challenge next week.”

Salem blinked. “What? I didn’t sign up.”

Amara’s smile was all teeth. “Mrs. Okafor nominated you. Said she was impressed with your quiz results. You’re moving up in the world.”

It sounded like a compliment, but Salem caught the faint trace of mockery beneath the words.

Still, she felt a flicker of pride. Representing her class in a school-wide competition was no small thing.

Amara handed her the paper. “I’ve been in the Challenge twice before. I can help you prepare… unless you’d rather try on your own.”

The way she said it made it sound like refusing her would be foolish.

Salem hesitated. “I guess I could use some help.”

“Great,” Amara said smoothly. “Meet me in the library after lunch. We’ll start right away.”

The library at St. Brielle’s was something out of a movie, high ceilings, polished floors, and rows of books that seemed to stretch forever. Amara was already there when Salem arrived, sitting by a corner table with two neat stacks of notes.

“This,” Amara said, patting the first stack, “is everything you need. These are past questions, common topics, the works. If you study this, you’ll be fine.”

Salem glanced at the second stack. “What about those?”

Amara smiled. “Oh, those are my personal notes. A bit more advanced. No need to overwhelm you right now.”

Something about the way she said it prickled in Salem’s chest, but she kept quiet. She spent the next hour going over the materials Amara gave her, scribbling notes and memorising key points.

By the end, Amara leaned back in her chair. “You’re a quick learner. Just… don’t overthink. Stick to these notes and you’ll shine.”

The next day at lunch, Salem was sitting under the jacaranda tree when David walked over.

“Heard you’re doing the Challenge,” he said, sitting down without asking.

Salem nodded. “Amara’s been helping me prepare.”

David raised an eyebrow. “Helping? Or setting you up?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He leaned closer. “I’ve seen her do this before. Last year, she ‘helped’ a girl from another class and fed her outdated materials. The poor girl froze during the competition.”

Salem’s stomach tightened. “Why would she..”

“Because she doesn’t like anyone stealing her spotlight,” David said simply. “Look, I’m not saying don’t trust her at all. But I’d suggest cross-checking everything with the real syllabus. I can help you if you want.”

Salem studied him for a moment. She didn’t like the idea of doubting people without proof. But something in David’s tone told her he wasn’t making this up.

“Alright,” she said finally. “Let’s start after school.”

That afternoon, David brought a different set of materials, recent updates from the school’s academic coordinator, practice questions from the last five years, and tricky logic puzzles meant to test thinking speed.

“This is what they actually use,” he explained. “And the questions aren’t just about memorising facts. They want to see how you think under pressure.”

It was harder than Amara’s notes, but also more interesting. Salem found herself challenged in a way that made her heart race.

For the rest of the week, she split her time between Amara’s “official” notes and the materials David gave her. But slowly, she began to notice inconsistencies. Some of Amara’s examples were outdated. A few were even wrong.

By Thursday evening, she was certain.

Amara wasn’t helping her win. She was making sure she failed.

Friday morning, Amara cornered her at the lockers. “So, how’s my star student doing? Ready to take the crown?”

Salem forced a smile. “Almost ready.”

Amara’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, then she was all sweetness again. “Good. Remember, stick to my notes. Don’t confuse yourself with extra information.”

Salem just nodded, but inside, she was already making a different plan.

The weekend before the Challenge was intense. Salem and David met at the public library near her house. Away from the polished halls of St. Brielle’s, she felt more at ease.

They worked through complex math problems, practised quick-fire science questions, and even role-played history debates. David was patient, but he pushed her hard.

“You’ve got the brain,” he told her late Sunday afternoon, “but you need to believe it. If you get stuck during the Challenge, don’t panic. Think it through. You know more than you realise.”

By the time they packed up, Salem was exhausted but… ready. Really ready.

Monday morning arrived like a drumbeat. The auditorium was filled with students from all the top classes. Teachers bustled about, arranging name cards and microphones.

Salem stood with David at their team table, her heart pounding. Across the room, Amara caught her eye and sent a small, knowing smile.

Mrs. Okafor stepped up to the podium. “Welcome to this year’s Inter-Class Academic Challenge. Let’s make it a fair and exciting contest. Contestants, you may take your seats.”

Salem sat down, fingers gripping the edge of the table. She took a deep breath, blocking out the noise of the crowd.

This was it.

She had a choice — play by Amara’s game and crumble… or trust her own preparation and rise.

And deep inside, she already knew which one she was going to choose.