carte blanche

Chapter 6: New Flame

"Well?"

I heard our Hulo say with urgency while tapping his right foot. No one dared to make a sound, so the clicks of his heel echoed throughout the Keeper Hulmusayan with the ticking clock harmonizing as the sounds engulfed us as they bounced around within the enclosed geodesic dome roof of the Keeper Hulmusayan.

While there was me, standing frozen in front of the projector, my mind as blank as my answer being projected on the holographic screen. The projector is a box-like contraption with a glass panel where the test-taker places their hand on. For the sake of the tests, the exoApp for test-taking blocks all exoApps from running, preventing us from looking for the answers while we answer the test. Not that anyone stupid enough will try, for that matter, for everyone will see the exoApps you are browsing in real time.

I could feel my palms and soles sweating and my lips quivering through gritted teeth. I saw my outstretched arms shaking and my fingers also trembling, which I tried to circumvent by pressing on the lit up glass pane acting as the projector's console, hoping that the pressure would stop me from shaking even for a little. But this attempt failed, and I instead just made the console move as I did, swaying along with the rhythm of my shaking hands.

"Don't sweat it, Ms. Banaag," the Hulo said while adjusting his glasses and faking a cough. I swear I could see him almost laughing with that pun. "You can always try again next time if you really don't know what the answer is. Let's not waste each other's time."

"Please give me a few more minutes, sir. I really know the answer," I pleaded. I swear I studied last night, although I focused too much on what I thought were the harder concepts than this one. Shame on me to skip this one, thinking it was common sense, but it's not! Or maybe I should really chastise myself even more for letting myself get distracted over thinking about Agui while also trying to make him feel my absence by not talking to him, so I was not able to study ahead of time. Ugh!

The clock's ticking sounds suddenly grew louder than usual, and I lost all my will to answer. I scanned the hall, as I felt more constricted by the intricately crafted geometric walls and dome roof, as if they were moving more closely to swallow me whole.

The layered seats around me also seemed to move closer, making the faces of the other trainees more vivid. Some of them looked bored while some looked irritated. I even caught some smirking, as if enjoying my humiliation.

I was about to give up and resign to my fate of flunking this one-item test that was equivalent of a bulk of the grades in my first year in Hulmusayan. But all of a sudden, from the corner of my eye, I saw a lanky guy on the top row raise a peace sign. He immediately hid his hand behind his nape, almost as fast as he raised it, but just enough for me to catch on. He raised both his eyebrows as he did, and then it just occurred to me what he was doing–he was helping me.

"Two-factor authentication," I said as loud as I could, breathless from almost not pausing. I stumbled upon the words, but thankfully, it was reflected in the answer space being projected. A few seconds passed, then the answer space turned green, flipped, then returned with the score of 80% and the remark of "PASSED". Not my best score, but a lot better than zero.

"Well done, Ms. Banaag," the Hulo said. "You may now take your seat."

The sound of clapping drowned out the ticking sound, although I could also hear some groans from the audience. It was probably those who were enjoying me struggling earlier, although I was more than happy that I did not give them the full satisfaction of seeing me fail. All thanks to the lanky guy whose name I failed to know, despite attending the same class for months now.

"Great job," a juvenile-sounding voice told me as I opened the notification from my exoMail, just on top of Agui's messages that I have been actively ignoring for weeks. It was from a certain Kidlat Maningas, a name I felt was familiar, but I cannot place whose name it was, not until I saw a lanky guy smiling, the same one who helped me earlier.

"Thanks for helping me," I replied through exoMail. I found myself moving up a few rows from where I originally sat to sit next to him, feeling obliged to be as nice to him as possible for the favor he gave me earlier.

"I don't get what you mean," he replied back through exoMail, while also pretending to look at the new test-taker who was also having a tough time answering the question, which was something harder than what I got. "Why are you thanking me, when it was all you?"

I was about to point out how he helped me with giving the peace sign, but I decided against it when I saw him staring at me with intense eyes, which he opened larger than necessary. Then, as if on cue, the Hulo announced, "I would just like to reiterate that cheating isn't tolerated here. Any form of cheating is subject to a serious punishment, including being removed from Hulmusayan and re-designated as a Laborer."

Then it dawned on me why he was pretending like nothing happened–he literally risked his life for me when he did that sign. How can I even repay his kindness?

"Nothing," I said, trying my best to play it cool, so no one would see any traces of Kidlat helping me answer the question if ever the Hulo intercepts our conversation. "I'm just glad you didn't find satisfaction in seeing me struggle earlier."

That is not really that far from the truth. Another reason why I got the answer right was that the thought of someone looking after me calmed my nerves, which helped clear my mind in addition to the hint he gave me.

"Why would I? I knew that today was just a bad day; you were consistently doing a good job at tests, despite being a bit standoffish," he said, now a few inches closer, his right hand cupping his chin. "I just wished every day that you would look my way."

"Now I'm looking," I answered while sliding my hand into his so I could cup his chin instead. We held each other's gaze for a while, his earnest eyes looking like a loyal puppy's, one that will always be willing to do my bidding.

"This hall is designed to be an avenue for learning, not a place for you to flirt!" the voice of the Hulo boomed and echoed through the room. "Eyes here, kids."

"Bathala is no fun," Kidlat whispered, chuckling.

"Must be the aftermath of singlehood," I snickered.

I looked at Kidlat as we finally calmed down and became more focused on the other trainees taking their test, some instantly giving up, while others taking the time to answer and either giving the correct answer or were given partial points for giving the correct answer but with few misspellings brought by some mispronounced words.

The more I stared at him, the more I understood why I failed to pay attention to him before, aside from me setting my heart solely on Agui–I find Kidlat's face unremarkable, to put it in nicely.

Kidlat's curly, slightly tousled hair kept in a quiff with tapered ends may be lovely, but I am not particularly fond of his button nose, sleepy eyes, and slightly prominent forehead. On their own, these features may be good, but they do not harmonize well on his face.

I know that it may be unfair of me to now judge my savior's features, but I just know that Agui is miles easier on the eyes than him. Yet, I know that one way I can repay my debt to Kidlat is to at least give him the attention he so desired, even before.

I then decided to check my Connexove and look at our compatibility. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the stats going haywire, moving erratically and showing a bunch of different figures until they stabilized. The compatibility meter was the last one to stabilize, ultimately settling to 52%. Not bad for someone not really my type.

Kidlat looked at me and smiled sheepishly as he caught me staring at him. This made me hold on more tightly to my resolve–I will give Kidlat a chance, ask him to be with me, and maybe, just maybe, I could forget about Agui and finally move on from my failed first love.