Roger let out a theatrical sigh.
"Daryl, I had no idea you hated me this much. Cursing everyone to bomb their exams? Come on. We're the Elite Track—you really think one birthday outing is going to tank our scores?"
Samantha immediately stepped in front of him, her voice dripping with contempt.
"Don't waste your concern on us. We're not like you—so terrified of a little test that you're running to the bathroom every five minutes. And then you blame your garbage scores on a few extra trips?"
She tossed her hair. "The college entrance exam is nothing. For geniuses like us, it's a breeze."
The whole class erupted in laughter.
My fists clenched. A dull ache spread through my chest.
During the placement exam in junior year, stress had wrecked my stomach. Every time I tried to focus, I'd need the bathroom. The constant interruptions destroyed my concentration, and I'd missed the cutoff for the Elite Track by a handful of points.
Afterward, I'd hidden in an empty study room, drowning in disappointment.
Samantha had found me there. She'd rushed in and thrown her arms around me, her voice soft with concern.