It's two in the afternoon, and we're heading towards the conference hall for the tests. I don't know how Brandon managed to convince Mr. Bennett to give the permission of organising an unauthorised scholarship examination.
Brandon told him that it would be a test to determine who is the best at Python programming so that the Body could use that person's talents for future purposes. And that the money would be totally his headache.
Aaron says that all Bennett wanted to know was if he would have to shell out any money from his pocket -he meant the school budget; don't know why he refers to it as 'my pocket', something to ponder about- Brandon repeatedly assured him that Mr. Bennett should not worry about anything; that everything is sorted.
There are about seventeen students in the room: ten girls and seven boys, all excited and nervous for the test. There were some juniors too, sitting apart from the students of our grade, huddled in a group and discussing problems.
"Did you hear that the prize money is three thousand dollars?!" A girl gasped.
"Yeah but I would've been happier if they paid for my college, rather than giving some few thousand dollars," a boy said, dispassionately.
"Okay guys," Aaron announces on the mic. "Everybody please take your seats."
They do as they're told, still chattering. I'm at one end of the hall, holding some papers in my hands, while Brenna is on the other end, giving a pep-talk to one student-her friend, I guess.
"Quiet, everyone!" Aaron shouts. Brenna glares at him for interrupting her but shuts up.
"Brenna, Jennifer, give everyone the papers now." As soon as he announces, I start walking down the hall, swiftly handing the papers to the people.
"As you can see, there are six questions, and you're gonna get fifteen minutes to answer them," he informs as Brenna and I finish the job, showing a thumbs up to Aaron. At exactly 2.15, he announces. "Okay people, your time starts now."
There's the familiar sound of rustling of papers and scratching of pens, some muttering and a few whispering the calculations to themselves.
I feel the adrenaline rushing within myself too and force myself into not encouraging them up by shouting.
As minutes pass, I find many students continuously striking off answers and scratching their forehead. Aaron told us that he got his uncle, who's a student at MIT to prepare the questions. The questions are hard, his uncle said, but not hard enough for a good amateur hacker. Which is exactly what we need.
Finally, Aaron climbs down the stage and announces, "Time's up, geeks! All pens should be above your heads as the collectors collect your papers."
I take the papers from them and try to smile a comforting grin as I pass by them. When we finish collecting the papers, we rush into a small room called the 'comfort' room by our teachers just behind the stage as Aaron tells them to wait for ten to fifteen minutes to know who bagged the prize.
We divide the seventeen papers between me, Brenna and Aaron and bring out the answers on our phones sent from Aaron's uncle and forwarded to us by him.
"A guy wrote 'Fuck the person who created these questions'," Brenna says, chuckling. "Man, were they so hard?"
"You check out the questions," I say, marking '1' on the first test.
"I'll do it when no one is around me."
"So that when you get all answers wrong, there'll be no one around you to taunt you?" Aaron asked.
"Shut up, Aaron."
"Ugh, you two quarrel more than me and my sister, and that's a lot to say." I huff, marking a '2' on the third paper. Taking the fourth paper, I look around the room and frown. "Where's Brandon?"
"Uh, he was not feeling well," he mutters, his eyes not leaving the papers.
I cannot help feeling annoyed at this. He promised me to find the culprit, not the other way around. And now, he's sitting at home, probably stuffing ice-cream and binging in sad romance movies and moping-
My thoughts are interrupted by a loud whistle. I look over to Aaron, who's staring at us with a broad grin on his face, holding up an answer sheet, which is marked '15/15'.
"Lucy Roderick," Brenna reads out. "That makes sense, as she's a junior."
"Yeah," I say, eyeing the paper. "Because, why would we suspect a junior out of the blue?"
*
"Miss Roderick," Brenna greets the junior sitting in front of her. Even a blind can tell that she's beyond excited. With a bright smile on her face, and eyes which seem like they would pop out any moment, Lucy lets out a giggle every now and then, apologising for her every move.
I cough a little to signal Brenna to carry on with her questions. She nods and smiles at Lucy. "So, you've proved that you're exceptional at programming for a fifteen-year old. Impressive."
"Thanks," she says, laughing loudly. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that."
I suppress my chuckle. There's no way in hell this clumsy girl is involved with any of this.
"Okay, so," Brenna says, leaning towards her. "We're going to test some other skills of yours, too."
She frowned at her. "Uh.. like what? I- I can sing and I was a tree in a play in 3rd grade, does that cou-"
"I meant, skills related to programming," she says, forcing a smile. "Like, can you hack? Phones, accounts.. don't worry, you're not going to get into any trouble for it."
"Oh," she hesitates a little and then nods. "I can. I hack social media accounts and crack open phones easily. But," she adds hurriedly. "These are all for fun. I mean, I hack to test my skills and leave them like that, no harm done."
Aaron exhales and straightens his shirt-pocket, where his phone is, recording everything. And to ensure that nothing goes wrong, I have my phone out too, pretending to just browse on it while recording this whole thing.
"Okay, Aaron?" Brenna asks, not breaking eye-contact with Lucy. When he doesn't respond -he's staring intensely at Lucy which honestly is ridiculous- she barks out his name which hurts Aaron as he's being shouted at in front of a junior and they squabble for some time.
"Now, Lucy," she says, glaring one last time at Aaron who just huffs in irritation. She places a phone- an old one of hers- in front of her and a piece of paper. "To test that you're speaking the truth, you'll do what I say. This account, jjlooney, is a completely fake account: it has a few photos but it's just an account created by us. We need you to hack this in front of us."
Lucy takes the paper and reads out the username. "You sure it's not real?"
"No it's not," Brenna assures her.
"Even if it is, you shouldn't have a problem as you roam around hacking accounts all the time," Aaron remarks.
Lucy laughs loudly again, uncomfortably and takes the phone in her hands. "Is there a time limit?"
"No, we just want to see if you can do it or not."
She looks at us and then takes the phone in her hands, keeping it in such a way that we couldn't see what she's doing. "Hackers never reveal their secrets." She said, laughing.
Within eight minutes, grinning like a cheshire cat, she hands the phone back to Brenna. "It's done. You can reset the password, delete this account or do whatever the actual owner does, if there is one."
Aaron looks at me, raising his eyebrows. I get the signal and take out my very pink flashy phone from my pocket and hold it behind my back, ready for Brenna's words.
"Nice," she comments, as if admiring Lucy's nails. She takes out a sheet of paper crumpled beyond measure from her bag and straightens it out on the table. "Now, let's do a rapid-fire test, huh?"
"Is that important?" Lucy asks, peering at the sheet.
"That's not for you to decide," Brenna smiles, snatching the paper before she gets to look at it. "So ready?"
She nods slowly, still confused and unsure about this, judging from her face.
"Favorite colour?"
"Black."
"Favourite animal?"
"Guinea pig."
"Favourite food?"
"Homemade brisket."
"Favourite singer?"
"Selena Gomez."
"Do you like ice-cream?"
"Sometimes, yes."
"Do you like chocolates?"
"Yes."
"Do you like video-games?"
"Totally!"
"Do you like reality TV?"
"No."
"Do you like conspiracy theories?"
"Yes."
"Have you hacked Jennifer's account?"
"Yes- what?" She stutters, blinking at her.
Her eyes fill with sheer bewilderment as I show her the phone in my hands.
"Recognise this phone, Lucy?" Brenna smirks.