The classroom was dead silent the next day.
The teacher handed out the test papers, and I could practically hear Andrea holding her breath beside me.
"Alright, you may begin."
The sound of pencils scratching against paper filled the room. I worked through the questions easily, focusing on each problem one by one.
But every now and then, I glanced at Andrea.
She chewed on the end of her pencil, tapping her foot anxiously. Her eyes darted over the page, scanning the questions. Then, slowly, she started writing.
I turned back to my own test.
The next hour passed in a blur.
Finally, the teacher collected the papers, and Andrea let out a dramatic sigh of relief.
"I think I died," she whispered as soon as the teacher left.
"You're talking, so clearly you didn't," I said.
"But my soul left my body, Rest."
I rolled my eyes. "How was it?"
Andrea frowned, deep in thought. Then, suddenly, she smiled.
"...It wasn't that bad."
I blinked. "Really?"
"Yeah," she said, almost in disbelief. "Like—I actually knew some of the answers. And the math problems? I think I did okay on them!"
I smirked. "Told you so."
Andrea huffed. "Don't get cocky, genius."
She stretched her arms above her head, looking much more relaxed.
"Anyway," she said, grinning. "You still owe me a snack."
I snorted. "Yeah, yeah."
We grabbed our things and headed to the cafeteria together.
And for some reason, I felt lighter.
Maybe because, for once, Andrea wasn't just relying on luck.
Maybe because she actually believed in herself.
Or maybe because, for the first time, I realized how much I enjoyed being the person she depended on.