Andre paced around in front of 123 Bouverie Street, glancing occasionally at the clock, ticking away lazily on the common room wall- Half an hour to go before his last summer semester exam. Soon there would be no more early mornings, no more daily waits for an available city tram (trams in the morning were always jam-packed with preoccupied businessmen and burnt out university students), and lastly no more five hour study sessions in Borders. He would miss these study sessions in Borders though, to be honest. Throughout his academic life, Borders had served as an escape from the chaotic hustle and bustle that he was thrown into the moment he stepped foot out of his house. It was a perfect place for recollection of the body and mind, especially with a book in one hand and a Cappuccino in the other.
After what seemed like hours, the announcement was made: “Students with registration numbers 200000 to 500000 proceed to the left, others to the right. Place all bags in the holding room, first door on the right thanks.” “Why are invigilators always this strict? They of all people should know how nerve-wrecking an exam can be for students. Not even a please or good luck, what manners!” Andre said out loud in his mind, which was of course inaudible outside of his head. As he passed the invigilator, he made sure to slow his step, giving himself ample time to shoot the invigilator a stern and dirty glare, which he immediately regretted on the realisation it could cost him his entire semester of hard work.
The exam paper was easy enough. Andre was a smart boy. Eleven questions in the span of two hours were easily manageable by his standards. It wasn’t easy however, for him to stay focused. The slightest movement startled him, never allowing him to connect a single train of thought. ADD was certainly not an advantage in this situation.
“Is it just me, or does this room smell like mouldy socks? Why is that silly boy behind me sharpening his pencil right now instead of using a pen? What’s the use of a pencil when you wouldn’t have time to erase mistakes anyway? And what’s with that ridiculous itch on my leg?”
Andre straightened his back and cracked his knuckles, his eyes straying ever so slightly to the right, careful still not to attract the attention of the patrolling invigilators. Three invigilators stood leaning against the wall, probably gossiping about someone’s child receiving a place in a prestigious university in another part of town. Some students tilted their heads just high enough to read the time, before once again waging war against the paper before them. Others stretched sluggishly, releasing occasional yawns which made them look slightly uncouth. Images of a hippo with its mouth wide open started materializing in his mind. A sudden gust of wind shook the window pane nearest to him, carrying Andre’s drifting imagination sharply back to the task at hand.
Andre was met with a nice mid-day breeze as he stepped out of the examination room, which ruffled his already extremely dry and unkempt hair. Pleased that it was finally over, he let out an uncontrollable smile. His heart was having a private party, and he looked like an idiot who was unsure whether he wanted to walk to the tram stop like a regular human being or dance over, concluding his delightful little journey to the tram stop with twelve pirouettes. He chose the former.
He felt a vibration somewhere near his buttocks and drove his hand down to yank his phone out of his back right trouser pocket, hearing a faint rip in the process. Delilah Tequila’s name flashed violently on screen. Ah that sweet name…