Word count: 3358

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘, the anxiety levels in the classroom were through the roof. Most of the source was obviously the three boys, who were all huddled at Five's desks, whispering.

"All right, everyone, get to your desks," Pogo instructed as he gripped the tests that Elizabeth had made in his hand. "Pencils and erasers only."

After everyone was ready, he began to pass out the tests to everyone. Relieved looks appeared on Allison, Vanya, Luther, and Ben's faces as they looked over the questions, but the same couldn't be said for the other boys.

Now, Elizabeth hadn't been exactly fair when it came to writing these tests. For the four kids who had been listening, they got quite easy questions, like 'What was the name of the President that was assassinated?' and 'Where was he killed?'

For Five, Diego, and Klaus, however, it was quite a different story. Their tests consisted of questions Elizabeth knew they definitely did not know the answers to. Questions such as 'Why did Lee Harvey Oswald go to New Mexico?' and 'What is psychomotor epilepsy?' were ones whose answers Pogo had not taught them

That had been Pogo's special request. Of course, he wasn't cruel. He had just wanted the boys to stress immensely. He said that he was sure they'd fail this test, and so he wouldn't count this in their grades.

It was obvious that the three only became more stressed once Luther handed his test in and sat back down. Then it was Allison. Then Vanya. And then Ben. 

And when Elizabeth looked over to see how the three were doing, it seemed that all of them were barely past the middle of the test.

In fact, it seemed as though Klaus, who was sitting next to her, had given up, and was now writing 'Jesus' as the answer to every question.

"Klaus, you think that the person who operated strip joints and dance halls in Dallas was . . . Jesus?" Elizabeth murmured to him, her eyebrows furrowed as she turned her gaze from his page to his face.

"Jesus is always the answer," he said seriously, nodding as he continued to write the same name over and over.

She shrugged. "Can't argue with that logic."

Another ten minutes passed, and the end of class arrived. Pogo dismissed the students who were finished and they all soon left.

Elizabeth, however, stayed at her desk as she waited for the boys to finish.

"How long do we have?" Five questioned.

Pogo smiled. "As long as you want."

It was quite lucky that Elizabeth didn't have anything she needed to train for that day because it took Diego and Five another hour to finish. Klaus, of course, had finished only five minutes after class had ended.

Pogo took the two tests from the boys and added them to the pile, sharing a look of amusement with Elizabeth as they heard the two grumbling to each other.

"Miss Elizabeth, I can mark the . . . well, 'easy' tests." Pogo nodded with a slightly amused smile. "However, I am not sure I know all the answers to your, ah, 'impossible' test."

"No problem, Pogo, I'll take the three." Elizabeth grinned, holding out her hand towards him. "I'll bring them to you after dinner."

Once Elizabeth was back in her room, she began to grade the three papers.

First, Klaus's test. Unsurprisingly, nothing was right. Although, it was mainly since he had put 'Jesus' as twenty-seven out of thirty questions. For that, she gave him three marks. Pity points.

Diego's was afterwards. Surprisingly, he had actually gotten some of the answers correct. Whether it was because he had somehow studied really well, or because he was an incredibly good guesser, Elizabeth wasn't too sure. He had managed to pass with a sixty-three percent, although a lot of marks she gave him were also pity points.

Just before she could start Five's, he just so happened to blink in right behind her. She gave a slight jump of surprise as he leaned over her shoulder. "You done mine yet?"

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?" Elizabeth groaned as she turned to face him. "And how did you know I was marking them?"

"I overheard Pogo asking while I was talking to Diego. Anyway, did you?" he questioned as he sat on the edge of her desk.

"No," she told him with a sigh. "I'm just starting now."

"Okay, cool." He nodded as he folded his arms. "I'll stay here."

"Wha—all right, whatever." Elizabeth shrugged before going back to his paper; she wasn't going to complain. She immediately furrowed her eyebrows as she came across the first question.

Who was Lee Harvey Oswald's wife?

And written right underneath in his scrawly writing was:

Me.

With a sigh, she put a red 'x' next to the question. No surprise there.

"What?" Five pretended to be shocked as he stared at the big 'x.' "No, it's right!"

"Yeah? You got married to Lee Harvey Oswald in 1961?" Elizabeth questioned dubiously as she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Mhm." He nodded insistently. "I remember it like it was yesterday. At a church, in Dallas—"

"He got married at his wife's uncle's home in Minsk."

"In my uncle's home in Minsk, me in a stunning, white gown, veil and all," Five said dramatically.

"Well, seeing that you weren't born until eighteen years after Oswald's wedding, you are pretty wrong." Elizabeth shook her head in amusement as she corrected, "His wife's name was Marina Oswald-Porter and not Five Hargreeves."

As he grumbled about that, Elizabeth continued to grade his test, then receiving remarks of mock surprise and feigned anger every time a question was marked as wrong (which was most of them). 

She finished after about five minutes and added it to the pile of other papers.

"So?" Five raised his eyebrows as he tilted his head. "I got a hundred percent, right?"

"Mm, more like fifty-one." Elizabeth frowned. "You barely passed. And that's only because I gave you the points to pass. You're lucky you're not Klaus; he got ten percent."

"Okay, but, you could always just give me a hundred percent."

She folded her arms and shook her head. "Nope."

"Oh, come on, Elle, this is going to tank my grade," Five complained, getting off of her desk and flopping onto her bed. "And I was doing so good before!"

She sighed as she turned to face him, and after a moment, admitted, "Pogo's not putting it into your final grade."

He straightened up, his eyes wide as he incredulously questioned, "He isn't? He made me suffer for nothing?"

"Yeah," she confirmed with a nod. "Because you deserved it. This is the eighth time you three weren't paying attention in class, and that's only within the month of September."

"But what about everyone else's test?" Five questioned, his eyebrows furrowed as he moved to the edge of the bed.

"Well, Allison, Vanya, Luther, and Ben probably got high marks, so I expect Pogo will put it in. You, Diego, and especially Klaus got . . . much lower grades than you usually do, so he said he wasn't going to. But," she warned, "he said that next time, the test will count."

Five pouted. "Fine."

—☾—

A few weeks later, Elizabeth wasn't surprised in the least when Five teleported into her room, his Merchant of Venice book in hand. 

They had a test on it the next day, and for the entire week, Five had been grumbling about how he barely even understood a word that came from the book, so how was he supposed to understand the plot?

Though she had been expecting it, she still somehow let out a small yelp of fright and dropped the book that she had been reading. With a glare sent towards the chuckling boy, she picked her book back up and inserted it back into its spot on her bookshelf.

"You've really gotta stop doing that," Elizabeth sighed as she turned to him, putting her hands on her hips.

"Doing what?" Five asked innocently as he placed his book onto her desk before clasping his hands behind his back. "Coming into your room? What, you don't want me in your room?"

"Coming into my room without caution," she corrected. "You could at least knock on the door or something."

"Knocking on doors is for losers," he said dismissively as he sat down in the chair on the right of her wooden desk. "I prefer scaring you."

"Rude," she muttered as she grabbed her study review sheet and took the seat on the left. She then picked up his book, ruffling through the pages. "Where are your notes?"

Five tapped the side of his head. "Right here."

"Seriously?" She put the book down on her desk and turned her head to stare at him with an incredulous expression. "You didn't write anything down?"

"I don't need to," he said as he gave a small shrug. "I already know everything."

"Okay . . ." Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, studying his face for a moment as she shifted her body to face him. "Then . . . why does Bassanio want to borrow money from Antonio?"

"Because he sucks."  

She rolled her eyes. "You know Pogo isn't going to take that answer, right?"

He sighed before he changed his response. "Bassanio wants Antonio's money so that he can travel to Belmont to woo Portia, marry her, and then take her money and pay back his debts. Because he sucks," he added.

Elizabeth nodded in satisfaction as she leaned back in her chair. "And give the details of the bond between Shylock and Antonio."

"Why do you want such long answers?" he groaned, reaching his hand up and ruffling the top of his hair.

"Because that's what Pogo always wants," she rebutted. "So answer."

He groaned once more before answering, "Shylock was going to give Antonio three thousand ducats. After three months, if Antonio didn't pay him back, Shylock was allowed to cut off a pound of his flesh. There is no interest involved in this deal."

"Perfect." She nodded. "Why does Shakespeare use the word 'choose' so much?"

Five looked taken aback by this question as he wrinkled his nose and furrowed his eyebrows. "I . . ." He looked up at the ceiling, squinting his eyes as he tried to think. "I don't know."

"It's irony," she explained as she leaned forward on her elbows. "Portia can't really choose who she would like to marry since her father is choosing for her by ordering them to pick caskets."

He stared at her for a moment before shrugging. "All right. But did Pogo even put that on the review sheet? I don't remember seeing that question on there."

"No. I just wanted to see if you knew the answer." She grinned, receiving a playful punch on the arm from the boy.

"Next question."

She nodded, thinking for a moment before beginning, "Why does the Prince of Mo—"

Elizabeth was cut off as a knock sounded from the door. She got up from her chair, throwing a glare at Five as she walked over to the door and remarked, "See? That's how you come in my room."

"Don't care," he called towards her as she wrapped her hand around the door handle.

She rolled her eyes before she pulled the door open to see a grinning Diego. In one hand, he held his Merchant of Venice book, along with a thin notebook, and in the other, a plate of cookies. It seemed as though the desserts were fresh, with the mouth-watering scent wafting towards her nose and the little bits of chocolate still melting in their places.

"Hey, Eggo," she greeted with a smile. "What's up?"

"Well, Mom made cookies." Diego lifted the plate higher so that she could see the full view of the golden-brown cookies. "And also" —he lifted his books— "I need help."

"Lucky for you, I love cookies, and I was already helping Five with this book too!" Elizabeth grinned, opening the door further so that he could enter.

Diego, however, frowned at this. "Five's here?"

She furrowed her eyebrows as she slowly nodded. "Yeah, why?"

His expression relaxed as he looked back towards her and shook his head. "Nothing."

"Okay . . ." She stared at him for a couple of seconds before shrugging it off and gesturing for him to follow her in.

Five, who had been rereading one of the scenes of the book as he waited, looked up. His face twisted into a scowl as he took notice of the other presence, and he grumbled, "Why're you here?"

"To study," Diego responded with a gaze equally as sharp.

"All right, you can take my spot," Elizabeth sighed, gesturing towards her empty chair before she sat at the foot of her bed.

With a glare towards Five, Diego reluctantly sat down in her chair. He then set the plate down on the desk before picking one of the cookies up and offering it to the girl.

She gave him a smile of thanks as she took it from him, biting into it as Diego opened his notebook. She sighed happily as the chocolate melted in her mouth; she loved Grace's cookies.

"I'm ready." Diego nodded as both he and Five turned their chairs to face her.

"Okay, so I'll ask a question, and whoever knows the answer, just . . . answer," Elizabeth instructed. "First, why does the Prince of Morocco choose the gold casket over the others?"

Diego was quick to answer, "The inscription on the casket said 'what every man desires,' and he thought that that meant Portia. Everything that is gold is thought to be the best, so he thought that the picture should be in the best casket."

"Perfect!" She smiled at him, not noticing the smirk he gave to Five as she looked down towards the sheet of paper. "Next, why does Antonio agree to the terms of the 'merry bond'?"

"Antonio was confident that his ships would return from the sea with good fortune if Bassanio didn't marry Portia and paid him back. He was desperate to save Bassanio," Five said, leaning back in his chair as he took a bite of the cookie that he had taken moments before.

"Exactly." Elizabeth nodded. "Okay, this one is an opinion question, so it's for the both of you: Do you think that Jessica was justified in getting eloped?"

Diego nodded, while Five shook his head. Both boys looked at each other with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows at the disagreement.

"Okay, well" —she looked between the two of them nervously— "could both of you explain your reasoning?"

Diego began, staring straight at the boy next to him, "I think that she should be able to choose who she wants to marry, not someone her dad chooses. And her dad doesn't even seem to care about her as much as a dad should."

"Yeah, but she lied to her dad even though she knew that it would break him," Five rebutted, his eyes narrowing even further. "He had nothing, and she just left him to marry some guy!"

"He cried more about his money than he did his daughter leaving," Diego pointed out with a scrunched face.

"Well, it's money!" Five exclaimed as he crossed his arms. "She stole it from him!"

Diego scoffed, "But he sucks anyway, why does that matter?"

"Him sucking is a subjective thing." Five immediately wrinkled his nose at his words and shook his head. "Forget I said that. You know what I mean."

"It's not subjective!" Diego retaliated. "He sucks, and that's a fact."

"Actually . . ." Elizabeth squinted her eyes, drawing the boys' attention to her. "It is a bit up there for debate. Shylock is seen as both the villain and victim of the story."

Diego gawked at her in bafflement. "What?"

"Mhm." She nodded. "He was a victim of discrimination and had been poorly treated by Antonio and his daughter. But he was still a villain due to his greedy and vengeful nature that brought forth the plot of the play. So, in terms of that" —she gave a small lift of her shoulders— "you're both right."

Five nodded in satisfaction. "And who's right about Jessica's eloping thing?"

"I told you, that's an opinion," Elizabeth responded with another shrug. "No one is technically right or wrong with that question."

"Well, then, what's your opinion?" Diego asked, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he looked towards her.

Her back stiffened. "That doesn't matter."

"Why not?" Five arched an eyebrow, and she shifted in her spot. "Tell us."

Diego nodded. "Yeah, say it."

"No," she said curtly. She knew exactly what would happen if she exposed whose side she was on—and she was not in the mood to deal with that right now.

"It could help us," Diego suggested, a sly grin on his face.

"With what?" she questioned as she furrowed her eyebrows. "You both already stated your opinions, and they were good enough."

"Yeah, good enough" —Five nodded— "but not perfect."

She sighed. "I don't think—"

"Just tell us who you agree with," Five cut in, rolling his eyes. "And don't be embarrassed to say it's me; we all know I'm right."

"No, I'm right," Diego turned to him and responded with tightly-knit eyebrows. "My answer is better."

"I'm right," Five stared at him.

"No, I am."

"I am."

"I am."

"I am."

"Elizabeth." Diego turned to her, his expression infuriated as he inquired, "Who's right?"

She stared at him for a moment before looking down at the paper in her hands. "What is the theme of Bassa—"

"Goldie, c'mon," Diego groaned.

She ignored him and restarted. "What is the theme of Bassanio's long speech before he chooses his casket?"

"Tell us who you agree with," Five whined, shifting his chair forward a couple of feet so that he was only a few inches away from her. "Say it. 'Five, my bestest friend and only person I like.'"

"Tell us." Diego nodded as he did the same. "And say 'Diego, my best bestest friend and only person I love.'"

"What is the theme of Bassanio's long speech before he chooses his casket?"

"C'mon, we won't argue about it or something," Five promised, although the mischievous glint in his eyes told her otherwise.

Diego sighed. "We won't even—"

"What is the theme of Bassanio's long speech before he chooses his casket?"

"Don't judge a book by its cover," Five answered quickly before asking once more: "Who do you agree with?"

She frowned. "Neither of you."

Diego shook his head. "That's not an answer." 

She squinted her eyes, looking down at the paper, whose corner she was now delicately crushing. "Both of you?"

"Not acceptable," Five countered.

"Whoever you disagree with won't take it personally," Diego promised with an unconvincing nod.

"No, I will definitely take it personally." Five shrugged.

Diego nodded in defeat. "Yeah, me too."

"Which is exactly why I'm not answering," Elizabeth sighed, dropping the paper next to her and folding her arms.

"I mean, no, I won't," Five quickly corrected before he gave her a dazzling smile that didn't fool her in the least.

"If you boys are just gonna pester me about this" —she stood up, pretending as if she were about to head towards the door— "I'm going to go to Allis—"

"You're so annoying," Five mumbled as he grabbed onto her wrist and tugged her back to her spot.

She raised her eyebrows as she playfully echoed, "I'm annoying? Well, if I'm so annoying, maybe I should go to Allis—"

"No, you're not annoying." Five pouted as he slumped back in his chair.

"I don't think you're annoying at all, Goldie." Diego gave her a smile before throwing a glare towards Five who then rubbed his eyes and groaned.

"Thank you, Eggo." She grinned before she straightened up as she picked the review sheet up. "Next question!"