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Hayden twirls his pencil between his fingers, his eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes focused on the corner of his paper. He's deep in thought, racking his brain for more ideas for an essay question on the exam. He runs his hand through his hair, sighing deeply.

It's not that he doesn't know what to write; it's the fact that he has to word it in just the right way. After all, his future depends on whether he passes this exam. He exhales again, then stops twirling his pencil. Instead, he puts the eraser end in between his teeth; the action has always helped him to think a little more clearly and more logically. It helps him now, even as he's distracted by the ticking of the clock, the rustling of paper, and the breathing noises of the other applicants that are writing with him.

Thoughts rush through his mind; some are ideas, some are memories, some are just phrases and words he can write. Once he's able to organize them, he sets his pencil down and starts to write again.

"So, your exam's tomorrow?" Eileen asks, but the way she says it makes it sound more like a statement than a question. She puts her elbows on the table, leaning forward on them as she waits for his reply.

Hayden looks up, having been bent over his plate of pasta. He chews quickly, then nods. "Yeah... it is," he responds, after taking a sip of water. "Why?"

"Nothing," Eileen says, picking up her spoon and scooping up more of the fried rice that's on her plate. "It's just - I know you've been worrying about this for awhile now. You've been studying your ass off these past few weeks and we've barely spent time together. I'm not complaining exactly; I know it's stressing. I get what it's like."

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