Truth or Dare

Lesson 4: The Game Begins

Two months had slipped by quickly, and now, with exams just a week away, an atmosphere of tension gripped most of the school. Other classes buzzed with the frenzy of last-minute cramming sessions, collaborative study groups, and heated debates over practice problems.

Yet, in stark contrast, Class 11-F appeared immune to the mounting pressure. While the rest of the school sharpened their minds for the upcoming tests, we scrolled endlessly through social media feeds, swapped gossip like currency, and laughed at memes that probably wouldn't help us pass algebra.

For most of our class, this wasn't unusual behavior. Stress seemed like a distant concept, and academic urgency was brushed aside in favor of more pressing matters—like the latest drama on campus or the rankings in our favorite online games. It was a peculiar bubble of calm that felt surreal compared to the anxious energy just a classroom away.

But not everyone in 11-F was content to drift with the current. Leon Larsen and Felix Vanily stood out as sharp contrasts to the carefree vibe.

While others around them casually wasted time, Leon and Felix had plunged into a fierce, unspoken rivalry. In the library, they often occupied opposing corners, exchanging tense glances when they thought no one was watching.

Their notebooks filled with meticulous notes, their textbooks bristled with color-coded tabs, and whenever a difficult question arose, they each worked furiously to solve it first.

Occasionally, whispers would float around the class about their competition. Some speculated it was for academic prestige; others thought it was personal.

Whatever the reason, the rest of us couldn't help but watch with a mix of awe and bemusement. It was as if their focus and intensity belonged to another world—one we occasionally glimpsed but never quite understood.

One afternoon, as the rest of us lounged around swapping trivial stories and sharing snacks, Leon and Felix found themselves face-to-face in the hall.

Their conversation was brief, words too quiet to catch, but the way Leon's jaw clenched and Felix's eyes narrowed spoke volumes. For them, exams weren't just about passing—they were about proving who could rise to the top.

Their rivalry was as fierce as it was silent, and unlike the rest of us, they refused to let themselves be pulled into distraction.

When exam week arrived, the other classes' preparations became strikingly evident, while our own situation in Class 11-F was set to become much more dire.

We would soon face a mix of frantic panic to catch up with our studies and a lingering regret over the hours lost on social media. "Maybe we should gather for a quick review session just a few days before the exams.

At least we could bring up the class average a bit," I said unexpectedly, realizing this only when the entire class turned to stare at me. "And there you go, thinking out loud again, Rose," said Rolan, placing his hands on my shoulders with a smirk. Yet, despite the looming presence of exam week, we still found ourselves procrastinating, unable to change the inevitable future.

The exams were coming, and as a class, we were woefully unprepared. "Don't worry, Rose. We'll scrape by with an average above 50, as usual," Rolan reassured me. I glanced around at the class before checking the clock; this was supposed to be our guidance period, but Ms. William was on leave.

Suddenly, the classroom speakers crackled with static, an irritating noise preceding an unexpected announcement.

 "Students of 11-F, I apologize for the interruption, but it seems you've chosen to disregard the message I sent two months ago, a choice that deeply disappoints me. Now, you're about to engage in a game you think you know well, but let me remind you: Truth or Dare will be unlike any you've played before. This game could be the most dangerous, life-altering experience you'll ever encounter. Listen closely, as I cannot overstate the importance of these rules: