Summary: Tom is a troubled teen. He can't write his papers, he's on the verge of failing his exam until a stranger slid his paper for him to copy.
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(Written in Tom's POV)
I looked into the microscope. The patch on the display was blotchy and green with some pink dots. I don't remember seeing anything like this in previous lab sessions ever. Or maybe I missed the class when we prepared this particular slide. But my page was still empty except for my name, roll number and date. I couldn't recognise the previous four slides too. Just three more are left. There was no doubt I ruined my theory exam and now I will ruin the practical too. There was no hope for me to pass this exam.
If I fail... Maybe... Maybe they'll send me back to Chris. And it's the last thing I ever want on Earth to happen.
I gulped slowly. It was painful. My throat felt dry. I wanted to drink water but I only have limited time to finish this paper and the page in front of me is completely blank. My stomach crumbled painfully. Now I could even taste the bile in my mouth. The next I could feel were my eyes getting wet.
God, I can't cry right in front of my whole fucking class. I let my eyes wander around the students. My gaze fell on the paper next to me.
Beautiful diagrams and a detailed description of the slides.
If he's not seeing then maybe I can copy. I held my breath and scribbled on my paper as fast as I can. Half of his paper was covered by his hand while he was looking into his microscope. I tried my best to copy the visible portion. His head bent at the paper to write the answer for the next question. His blue eyes met mine. My heart dropped.
I haven't copied enough to pass yet. I looked at him hopefully and sorry. He looked at my paper. I felt so ashamed, weak, dumb and guilty- not the best combination of obscure feelings all at the same time.
He slid his paper towards me and smiled.
I blinked in disbelief.
"Return it to me in ten minutes at microscope number seven," he whispered and shifted to the next specimen, carefully observing and writing the conclusion in the extra sheet.
I took in a sharp breath, remembered God and ran my pen on my paper. I changed the text structure and numbering a little bit. Five questions were enough for me to pass in aggregate.
When I got to the sixth specimen I had written enough to pass and slid his paper back to him, mumbling a thank you. He simply nodded like it was nothing. He again smiled at me. The kind of smile that made his clear blue eyes shiny and corners crinkle.
