It's time for late-night study sessions, caffeine-fueled cramming, and last-minute revisions. It's time for midterms. Let's ace those exams together!

The Imperial University Chronicles
April 12th

~7th on the list~

Sanjana Thapar

How do factors like tariffs, quotas, and trade agreements impact global markets?

I wracked my brain to remember where I had read or heard those words, but nothing. I knew them but I had no idea how to answer this stupid question.

Frustration gnawed at me as I flipped to the next question, more unknown jargon stared at me. This one was worth 15 marks. I couldn't figure that one out either.

I had studied for these mid-terms obviously. Okay maybe studied was a stretch, but I definitely skimmed through the textbook last night while making the cheat sheets. Apparently fate wasn't on my side at all because the chits I had smuggled in were only able to help me answer one question worth measly five marks.

With a defeated sigh, I leaned back in my seat, earning a few curious glances from my classmates. I was about to ask someone for help, but the invigilator cleared her throat, silencing the room once more.

It became quiet.

Way too quiet.

Quiet enough that I could hear every cough and sniffle in the room.
The examination hall was just our classroom, but unlike any prior exams, they enforced a predetermined seating arrangement which is why I was in this position. All my friends were in the back executing the cheating plan just like we had decided, while I was stuck here in the middle of the room sitting next to one of the most infuriating individuals I knew: Varun Reddy.

If I had been seated next to anyone else, literally any other person, I might have been able to persuade them to let me glance at their answers.

As I absentmindedly clicked my pen against the desk, I stole a glance at the clock on the wall. 55 minutes still remained. According to the rumors, scoring at least 75% on this test was our ticket to the final exam. Not wanting to risk it, my friends and I had a proper plan in place, but the stupid dean just had to mess up the entire arrangement with his stupid anti-cheating measures.

The invigilator approach snapped me out of my reverie, her suspicious gaze piercing through me. I hid my answer sheet with my arm when she tried to peek at my paper. She scoffed and walked away from me to make her rounds. My face heated in embarrassment. Why would I do that? Considering she would soon find out that I knew nothing anyway.

Another ten minutes went by. Every time I attempted to communicate with one of my friends, the invigilator was magically there scowling at me with her arms folded over her chest in a silent challenge.

My gaze fell on Varun. He looked like a banana in his choice of outfit today– a yellow long sleeved t-shrit and black jeans. Normally, I only take notice of people's clothes if they dress really well or really poorly. He definitely falls in the second category. I couldn't decide what was worse. His abysmal dressing sense or his shitty attitude. It was a toss-up at this point.

As if sensing my gaze on him, Varun raised his head to look at me. He narrowed his eyes behind his oversized, thick-framed nerd glasses, his expression a mix of annoyance and indifference. Determined to get a reaction out of him, I winked provocatively, knowing it would likely just irk him further. Sure enough, he clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes in response before refocusing on his exam.

How could he write so fast and how did he know so much? There was no way a human brain could retain so much mind-numbingly dull information, but then again he was a weirdo.

As the invigilator settled into her chair at the front of the room, book in hand, I seized the opportunity to act. Sitting up a bit straighter, I feigned a stretch, subtly craning my neck to catch my best friend, Maya's eye. Fortunately, she glanced my way, and I wasted no time mouthing the numbers "3, 7, 18" to her—the questions worth the most marks. With a nod of understanding, she relayed the message to another friend in our circle.

I watched anxiously as the chit containing the answer began its journey toward me, a wave of relief washing over me as it drew nearer. But my elation was short-lived as I realized that I would need Varun to cooperate. Bracing myself, I lightly nudged his leg with the tip of my heel, hoping to catch his attention.

Varun's response? He peered up at me with a disdainful glare, as if I were nothing more than chewing gum stuck beneath his shoe. Well, the feeling was mutual. Undeterred, I subtly motioned towards the student beside him, indicating the folded piece of paper discreetly being held aloft. Varun's lips curled into an irritating smirk as he glanced between the chit and me, before shaking his head slowly, his expression dripping with smugness.

"You suck," I hissed.

He smiled like a cheshire cat, fixing his glasses with his middle finger.

I quickly pushed the violent thought of stabbing him with my pen. My pen had pretty flowers and butterflies and I didn't want to get it dirty with his ugly ass blood.

The bell rang, signaling the change in the invigilator. With a wary eye on her, I delivered another discreet kick to Varun's leg, but this time he didn't even bother looking up at me.

Before I could kick him once more, the new invigilator walked in. A collective wave of nervous energy rippled through the room as Kabir Dhananjay, our new dean, nodded solemnly at the departing teacher before assuming her position at the front of the room.

Fuck my life.

Now there was no way I could cheat.

Dhananjay had managed to suck out every last drop of joy and happiness from our campus in just the mere five months he had been here. He demanded a 90% attendance rate to graduate, Increased the passing grade to 60%, Changed the format of our examinations from multiple choice to written, Curtailed our freedoms beyond the campus gates, introduced mandatory volunteer work—the list of his tyrannical decrees seemed endless.

It was almost laughable how much I found myself missing our old dean, who was as easy to manipulate as a marionette. But this man... he had the eyes of a hawk, the ears of a fox, and the persistence of a dog with a bone.

Feeling defiant, I found myself locked in a silent standoff with Dhananjay. His unwavering stare bore into me, unyielding until I was forced to avert my gaze. This man was scary and I was scared of him. Not a good combination.

The final bell echoed through the classroom. I swept a strand of hair away from my eye in annoyance as I waited for my turn to hand in my paper. As Varun walked past me, I may have tried to trip him, but he had no proof. Rising from my seat, I confidently deposited my empty answer sheet onto the pile atop the teacher's desk. His raised eyebrow hinted at his disapproval, but I simply shrugged off his scrutiny and strode out of the room, head held high.

Maya hurried to catch up with me. "I'm so sorry," she murmured as she reached my side, her hand gently encircling my arm. Leaning in close, her voice dropped to a whisper, "I tried to get you the answers, but-"

I shook my head, cutting her off before she could finish. "It's not your fault," I reassured her, scanning the hallway for the source of my frustration. And there he was, standing by his locker, packing his backpack to go back to the dorm.

My mind flashed back to our first encounter during our first year orientation. My purse had slipped from my grasp, scattering its contents across the floor. I looked up, anticipating a helping hand from him since we were the only two people around, only to be met with a disdainful glare as he strode past—a look I was unaccustomed to receiving. People typically adored me, especially guys. But this guy... he seemed to relish in making me feel small.

Our interactions after that were marked by constant bickering, taunts, and clashes, each encounter escalating in intensity.

I marched toward him, heedless of the sidelong glances and whispered murmurs that trailed in my wake. Anger simmered beneath my skin, ready to erupt like a volcano.

"What the fuck is your problem, you asshole?" I spat, my voice dripping with venom.

He responded with an exaggerated sigh, as if my presence was a tiresome inconvenience. "I have many problems. You'll have to be more specific."

"Why couldn't you just pass me that note? I know you don't need it because you are such a nerd and all but you should have just passed it to me."

"Why 'should' I have done that?" he shot back, his tone edged with irritation. "You are lucky I didn't report your ass. Keep pushing me and I'll go to the dean. Clearly he wants you out."

"I'm going to fail!" I whined, unable to keep the desperation creeping into my voice.

With a resounding slam, he shut his locker, the noise jolting me back a step. "You seem to be under the misconception that I care," he retorted, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder and accidentally hitting me in the face with it in the process.

"Ow." I rubbed my nose. At least he had the decency to look apologetic.

"Babe, let it go, He's not worth it," Maya said from beside me.

"I'm not worth it?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with disgust. "Of course, the princess and her sidekicks decide people's worths, right?"

Before Maya or I could utter a word in response, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving me seething with frustration.

Kabir Dhananjay and Varun Reddy were contending to be on the seventh spot of my most hated people in this world.