Chapter 6

Two weeks after the technology competition uproar, the countdown on the blackboard now read: [56 days until the SAT.]

Tension hung thick in the classroom. Even the naughtiest students had their heads buried in practice papers.

I leafed through Benedict's mock math exam, my frown deepening with each page.

He'd gotten almost everything wrong on the final major problem, a type that always appeared on the SAT.

"The auxiliary line should go here," I said, lightly tracing it on the geometry diagram with my pencil. "See? Now these two lines are parallel, which makes the rest of the proof much easier."

Benedict leaned in closer, the fresh lemon scent of his shampoo drifting over.

He stared at the line I'd drawn, and suddenly it all clicked for him. "Oh, I get it now! I was totally stuck on the angles."

The library lights cast a delicate shadow beneath Benedict's eyelashes, which fluttered gently every time he blinked.

I couldn't help but notice that the dark circles under his eyes were even more pronounced than before.

"Did you stay up late again last night?" I asked quietly.

Benedict looked a bit sheepish. "Yeah, I was debugging the prototype application for the finals."

"The finals are in a month, but the SAT is only 56 days away," I said, tapping on his test paper. "Have you thought about which college you want to apply to?"

Benedict paused for a moment. "Actually, I never dared to dream I could go to college."

He looked up, a flicker of uncertainty in his amber eyes. "Most of us from the orphanage usually start working after high school."

My heart clenched.

In my previous life, Benedict died young due to illness. I wouldn't let his talent go to waste again in this life.

"With your grades, you could definitely aim for a top-tier college," I said, flipping open my notebook to jot down some names. "These schools all have strong computer science programs, plus complete bursary systems."

Benedict stared at the words, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "You really think I can do it?"

"Absolutely," I replied without hesitation. "Your programming skills are better than those of most college kids already. Just bump your math and writing scores by twenty, and you're golden."

"Writing..." Benedict gave a wry smile. "I'm not good at that."

I snapped my notebook shut and grinned. "How about this: after school, I'll help you with writing and math, and you teach me some coding stuff. Deal?"

His eyes lit up. "You wanna learn to code?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Watching you do it made me realize—it's like a whole new language. One that can actually build entire worlds. It's really fascinating."

Benedict smiled, warm and genuine. "Okay, I'll teach you."

And just like that, we kicked off our 56-day SAT mutual support plan.

Every day after school, we'd hang out in an empty classroom or the library. We'd spend two hours on writing and math, and one hour diving into programming. No exceptions.

Benedict was a quick learner. After just a few corrections, he could write words that were pretty well-organized and made sense.

To my surprise, I developed a real passion for programming. Though I often got tangled up in loop statements, nothing matched the thrill of seeing my code finally run successfully.

"You're really talented," Benedict said sincerely one day as he looked at the simple calculator program I'd just written.

I shook my head. "Not even close. Your code is as elegant as poetry, while mine's more like a child's scribbles."

Benedict's ears suddenly turned red. "Thanks. But you really are improving fast."

We exchanged a smile as the afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the desk between us in a warm, gentle glow.

Meanwhile, Joseph and Kiana took a completely different path.

They were hardly ever seen in class anymore. Rumor had it they'd taken time off to attend some entrepreneurial training program.

Every now and then, I'd spot them on campus, both dressed to the nines and brandishing the latest smartphones, holding court with animated conversations. They looked completely out of place amid the tense, exam-focused atmosphere.

One day in the cafeteria, I overheard Joseph boasting to a group of classmates, "The SATs are nothing. Kiana and I have already secured angel investment. College is just a formality for us."

Kiana chimed in, "Joseph knows all the top execs in tech. In this industry, connections matter way more than a degree."

I shook my head and went back to my meal.

In my previous life, Joseph did climb the ladder quickly by leveraging my network.

Now, without my family supporting him, would his so-called "connections" really take him seriously?