The twins walked briskly down the hallway after meeting in the library, heading toward their next class.
"What do we have now?" Kara asked, adjusting her bag over her shoulder.
"If I'm not mistaken, it's English," Tara replied, quickening her steps. "Let's hurry—you know how strict the teacher can be."
"I know, right?" Kara agreed, matching her sister's pace.
They reached the large, combined classroom where all sections—A1, A2, and A3—were seated together. The students looked worn out, their enthusiasm drained by earlier classes.
"Good afternoon, students," the English teacher greeted firmly as she entered the room.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the class chorused, though their tone lacked energy.
"This is our first session together this term," she continued. "I was unavailable last week, which is why I didn't come earlier. As you all know, this is a combined class, while the B sections are taught separately."
The students exchanged tired glances, already anticipating a long session.
"I won't be taking attendance today," the teacher announced, "but let me remind you of my rules:
"First, I'll call you by your assigned numbers only—no names unless necessary.
"Second, you're allowed to leave the class only once, even if it's urgent.
"Third, if you fail to follow the lecture or answer a question when asked, you will be sent outside."
Her sharp gaze swept across the room. "Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," the class responded in unison.
"I see we have fifteen new students in this section," she continued. "Four in A1, five in A2, and six in A3."
With that, she turned to the board and wrote her name in bold letters before launching into the first topic of the day.
"Who can define the term 'concord'?" she asked, scanning the room. "You, over there."
A boy raised his hand confidently. "I'm Clinton. Concord means agreement or harmony between words in a sentence."
"Correct," she said with a nod.
The lecture continued smoothly, and for the first time, the students seemed to enjoy the subject. That is, until Tara heard her name being called.
"Tara."
She stiffened at the familiar voice. Roman.
"What is it now?" she hissed, annoyed by the interruption.
"I want juice," Roman stated nonchalantly. "Banana-flavored. And I need it now."
"Now?" Tara blinked, incredulous. "Why didn't you get it before?"
"Because someone owes me, and I get what I want when I want it," he said calmly, handing her some cash.
"Seriously?" she muttered, exasperated.
Reluctantly, she asked for permission to leave and dashed toward the cafeteria, grumbling under her breath.
"I... I... would like... banana-flavored milk, please," she panted, out of breath from running.
After grabbing the juice, she sprinted back to class and slammed the carton onto Roman's desk, her eyes blazing with frustration.
"There," she snapped, before returning to her seat, still fuming.
The lecture resumed, but about an hour later, Tara felt an uncomfortable pressure building in her lower abdomen.
Oh no... I need to pee.
She twisted her legs together, trying to hold it in. Kara noticed her discomfort.
"What's wrong?" Kara whispered.
"I need to pee. Badly. But I already used my one chance to leave."
Kara frowned. "Can you hold it until class ends?"
"I'll try... but it's really bad," Tara admitted, shifting uncomfortably.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Roman watching her closely, his expression unreadable.
"See what you caused?" she hissed at him. "I can't even excuse myself because of you!"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "How is that my problem?" he replied calmly.
Tara clenched her fists. "I hate you," she hissed.
She sat stiffly, trying to focus on the lecture, but the pressure was becoming unbearable.
Desperate, an idea struck her.
"Kara?" she whispered urgently.
"Hmm?"
"Please... can we switch tag cards? The teacher already wrote down my name, so she won't notice if I leave again as you."
Kara hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."
They discreetly exchanged tags.
"Ma'am, I'd like to excuse myself to use the restroom," Tara said, holding her breath.
The teacher raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you already leave once?"
"No, ma'am. That was my sister—my twin. Please, I really need to go now," Tara pleaded, desperation clear in her voice.
After a long pause, the teacher relented. "Fine. Go."
Before she could change her mind, Tara dashed out of the classroom, leaving a trail of muffled chuckles behind.
Roman watched her retreating figure, a faint smile tugging at his lips. She was... something else.
Wait... what was he thinking?
He raked his fingers through his hair, frustrated by his own thoughts.
*******
Tara let out a deep breath of relief after finishing in the restroom. She quickly washed her hands, adjusting her uniform as she checked her reflection in the mirror. "Finally," she muttered, feeling much lighter and ready to head back to class.
Opening the restroom door, she stepped into the quiet hallway. Her footsteps echoed softly as she made her way toward her classroom, her mind still annoyed by Roman's earlier stunt. "That boy is seriously impossible," she mumbled, shaking her head.
As she turned the corner near the old locker section, she stopped abruptly. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw a group of students lounging against the wall Class B students.
They were notorious for causing trouble, bullying anyone who crossed their path. Everyone in school knew to avoid them at all costs. Tara recognized a few faces from whispered stories she'd overheard in the hallways, Drake, the towering leader with cold, calculating eyes; Vanessa, whose sharp tongue was as dangerous as her fists; and Marcus, who was always ready for a fight.
Their attention snapped to her the moment she entered their line of sight.
"Well, well... look who wandered into the wrong hallway," Vanessa sneered, pushing off the wall and taking slow, deliberate steps toward Tara.
Tara's pulse quickened, but she forced herself to stay calm. "I was just leaving," she said, trying to sound assertive while stepping backward slowly.
Drake smirked. "Leaving? Without saying hello? That's kinda rude, don't you think?"
Marcus cracked his knuckles, his grin widening. "We don't like rude people around here."
Tara's back hit the cold wall. There was no escape. Her mind raced, desperately thinking of a way out. She cursed herself for not sticking to the main hallway.
The fluorescent lights flickered faintly, casting eerie shadows across the deserted corridor. The silence was deafening, broken only by the approaching footsteps of the Class B bullies.
As she prepared to respond, footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the hallway. Tara's eyes widened in hope was someone coming to help, or was this about to get even worse?