Don't forget

Trust me

I got it. I copied only two exercises in order to make sure I’d pass the exam, while answering the rest all by myself. My conscience can't make me feel guilty and I won't have to stay a longer time at school. I swear I have never felt so smart before.

I hadn't had in mind all of this during the day, but now it's hard to ignore when my math class is about to begin. Mr. Campbell enters in the room and with that everybody takes their seats, except for a few that seem to be late.

The teacher explains the previous set rule; if anyone gets less than 65 points on the exam, they’ll have to stay for extra classes after school. While he starts giving the papers, a couple of students walk into the classroom.

I finally get my exam and cheer in silence. Unsurprisingly, I got an 8. Surprisingly, I am asked to stay a couple of minutes to talk with the teacher after class. This last part turns on every alarm in my brain, instantly jumping on conclusions that involve the worst ways this could go.

The class ends quicker than ever and I’m soon forced to talk with the teacher instead of going outside. “Is there something wrong, Mr. Campbell?” I say fearfully, stopping right in front of his desk while holding tightly the straps of my backpack.

"I checked your exam as many times as possible and I still can't believe that you got such a high grade."

"Well, I spent the whole night stud-" I ramble just to be interrupted by him.

“We’ve never reviewed the topics of some of the exercise you got correct.”

“Eric taught me.” I lie immediately, knowing perfectly that it’s a very good excuse. Ashby is probably the best at math in the classroom.

Mr. Campbell still looks skeptical and he makes it clear with the next thing he says. "I can't prove that you've cheated, Hansen. But I'll be watching you."

He leaves the room right after, leaving only his words behind. Alright, maybe I’m not as smart as I thought. I should have read more about the exercise I copied. Why didn’t I consider something that simple?

Now I have to demonstrate that I do know how to solve all the problems, but at least I don’t have to stay extra hours, I guess.

During my way home I can’t help but think if the mysterious person would be able to help me get out of this. After all, he’s the reason I’m in trouble. If only I had ignored them…

I wait until I’m alone again to call them. This time, however, there’s no reply. Filled with desperation, I send a couple of messages demanding answers. Still, I get nothing in exchange.

I look at the clock, remembering what time it was when we first talked. It was somewhat late. A sigh escapes my lips as I decide to just try to forget about it until they find the time to answer at least the texts.

An hour passes until I realize how silent my room has been. I didn’t have the need of playing music because there was no bad memory in my mind. Unfortunately, the peace is soon interrupted by my phone ringing. I answer the call immediately.

“Hi Noah.” I may never get used to that creepy voice, even if I tried.

"Hi, whoever the hell you are. We need to talk." I say, sounding slightly harsh.

"Well, we are talking." He replies sarcastically, letting me know that he’s aware of my conversation with Mr. Campbell.

“Look, I used the file you sent to answer some of the exercises of the test, and the teacher suspects that I cheated. Now I’ll need to prove that I can solve those problems in order to not get suspended or something.”

I give them time to think of a solution, recalling again our last conversation. They seem to be someone more rational than talkative.

"I-I know what to do" They finally say. "I could be sending you the answers of the questions he throws at you. We could even be calling each other throughout the class so we don’t have to type. What do you say?”

“At least you have an idea.” I confess with a shrug.

“You just have to promise me that you won’t try to find out who I am.” They request.

“Why not?” I ask, understanding that they may think I would disclose his identity and blame him for everything. But I think I wouldn’t get out clean either. I’m deep in this trouble too.

“Trust me.” They say, taking a deep breath before adding: “I really can’t tell you who I am, but I can promise you that I won’t leave you alone on this one.”

I want to ask him why he helped in the first place, but I think they’ll refuse to answer. Therefore, I can only promise. “Alright. I won’t try to find out who you are.”

The conversation alone is enough to keep me awake all night long. For what I know they could be anyone in the classroom -probably one of the few who would need to cheat in order to pass math.

Although I agreed to not investigate about their possible identity, I can’t help but be very curious. I have failed on making new friends on purpose; now I’m trusting a random person in my classroom. I guess I don’t have another choice but to let them be the exception to the promise I made myself in the past.