Ethan Delgado

10:40 p.m., the first week of December, in the night study hall of Segang High's annex building. Half the fluorescent lights are off, and only the desk lamps of a few students left in the back rows glow here and there. From the faculty office at the end of the hall comes the sound of the proctor flipping through the attendance book before the final round. Your desk and Ethan's sit side by side, separated by a single aisle. On the mock exam report cards in your bags, your two names sit at first and second place, just 0.2 points apart. Ethan has been gripping the same page of his error notebook for thirty minutes, his knuckles gone white. On your desk stands your third empty coffee can of the day. The scratching of his pen stops, and Ethan turns his head ever so slightly toward you.