The results page took longer to load than it should have.
XH sat at the edge of his bed, phone held too tightly in his hand, thumb hovering as if hesitation itself might change what was already decided. The room was quiet except for the low hum of the electric fan and the distant sound of traffic slipping through the open window. It was the kind of silence that made every thought feel heavier.
He refreshed the page again.
And then the numbers appeared.
For a moment, his eyes did not move. They stayed fixed on the top line, as if reading it first would soften what came next.
Mathematics: Distinction.He let out a slow breath.
English: Distinction.A faint, almost reluctant smile followed.
He scrolled further.
Physics: High Credit.Chemistry: Credit.Biology: Credit.
Good. Solid. Honest.
His chest loosened slightly as warmth spread through him. These were not bad results. In another situation, they would have been celebrated without hesitation. His grandmother would have nodded quietly, proud but unsurprised, telling him that effort always left traces.
But then he reached the part that mattered most.
The cutoff.
The required score for the local government medical universities sat there, unchanged and indifferent. Higher than what he had achieved.
Not by much.
But enough.
XH stared at the number until the screen dimmed and he had to tap it again to wake it. Disappointment did not arrive all at once. It came slowly, like water seeping through cracks he had pretended were not there.
He was not angry.
He was not crushed.
He was tired.
Tired of being close enough to see the finish line but not close enough to cross it.
He thought about the nights he stayed awake solving problems until numbers blurred together. About choosing practice questions over rest, textbooks over invitations. He had believed quietly, stubbornly, that effort alone would close the gap.
It had not.
Still, he could not bring himself to hate the results. They were honest. They reflected the work he had put in, even if they did not reward it the way he had hoped.
He leaned back against the wall and let the phone rest in his lap.
So this was it.
Not failure.But not the path he had imagined either.
At the same time, in different rooms and different homes, other students were having similar moments.
JP laughed too loudly at his screen, pretending disappointment did not bother him as much as it did. NS stared at his results in silence, already calculating alternatives and backup plans. TZ shrugged it off, telling himself there were always other roads, even if he did not know where they led.
Kitty read her scores carefully, line by line, expression calm and unreadable. She knew she had done well. Well enough to move forward. What mattered next felt more important than what she had narrowly missed.
And June, somewhere far from XH, sat with her results neatly printed, already circling options and pathways. She did not dwell on what she had lost. She thought only about strategy.
None of them said it out loud.
But all of them understood the same truth.
The local government medical universities were no longer guaranteed.
That was how the health track program entered their lives.
It was not advertised as a second chance. It was framed as an alternative route. A foundation program designed to strengthen fundamentals and open doors to international medical schools or affiliated MD programs.
For students who had come close.For students who were not willing to stop.
XH read the program details long into the night. Anatomy. Physiology. Biochemistry. Clinical basics. Counseling fundamentals. Practical skills that demanded discipline as much as intelligence.
It was not easy.It was not safe.
But it was still a door.
He thought of his grandmother again, how she never spoke about missed chances as failures, only as signs to look elsewhere. He imagined telling her about this program and the long road it promised. He knew she would listen quietly before saying something simple, something grounding.
"If you walk it honestly, it counts."
That thought steadied him.
By morning, XH had made his decision.
He applied.
So did JP.So did NS.So did TZ.So did Kitty.
One by one, their names began appearing on the same lists, in the same emails, on the same unfamiliar campus maps. A foundation campus. A place newly built and still uncertain of itself. A place some people whispered about while others defended fiercely.
Campus 2.
None of them knew yet how deeply their lives would intertwine there. How friendships would harden into loyalty. How affection would blur into longing. How pride, fear, and delayed honesty would follow them quietly.
They only knew this.
They had not made it where they thought they would.
So they were going somewhere else instead.
At the time, it felt temporary.Like a detour.
They did not know it was the beginning of everything they would lose, and everything they would learn to hold on to.
And so, with nervous hope and unspoken doubt, they stepped forward.
Not as failures.
But as students who refused to stop.