Chapter 6 - Exam Season Chaos
Chapter 6: Exam Season Chaos
It started like every exam season does—quietly.
Like the eerie calm before a monsoon.
Week 12 of the semester arrived, and suddenly ABIX found themselves blinking at Canvas notifications and group project deadlines like they’d been transported to a parallel dimension where fun was illegal and panic was the national anthem.
“Bro, why are there so many assignments due this week?” Aleem muttered, staring at his planner like it had betrayed him.
“It’s called the NTU mid-sem break illusion,” Ivan replied. “They let you breathe in Week 7 so they can drown you in Week 13.”
Crystal had stopped wearing makeup. Her hair, once proudly tied in a high ponytail, was now in a messy bun held together with a pen. Isabelle was carrying three highlighters like weapons and had printed enough lecture slides to personally deforest a small country.
Study mode had been activated.
The group took refuge in a quiet study corner at the Hive—Level 4, back corner, next to the plug socket that always sparked when used (but never failed). They called it the “ABIX Command Centre.”
Isabelle’s table was a warzone of color-coded notes. Crystal was speed-running her readings like she was competing in a Netflix binge. Aleem had his AirPods in, alternating between focus playlists and Malaysian lo-fi remixes of academic lectures. Ivan had built a spreadsheet to track his revision topics—complete with conditional formatting.
But as the hours stretched, tension brewed.
First came the battle of the snacks.
“Who finished the Kettle Chips?” Crystal demanded, rummaging through the bag of shared supplies.
“Not me,” Isabelle replied without looking up.
“Ivan?”
“I brought them,” he said.
Everyone turned to Aleem.
“…Look, it was 2AM, and I was writing my lab report. My hands moved before my brain could stop them.”
“You owe me a replacement pack,” Crystal declared, wagging a pen at him.
“You owe me five quiz answers,” Aleem countered.
“Deal.”
Then came the infamous Group Study Meltdown of Week 13.
It was 10PM. The room was silent, heavy with caffeine and despair. Ivan was explaining a concept from Data Structures for the fourth time.
“Okay, so the hash function—”
“I don’t get it,” Isabelle said, rubbing her temples.
Ivan sighed. “Let’s go slower—”
“I am slow!”
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
“Guys,” Aleem said cautiously.
But it was too late.
Crystal suddenly dropped her pen. “CAN EVERYONE JUST BREATHE?”
Ivan froze. Isabelle blinked rapidly.
Aleem leaned back in his chair. “It’s happening.”
“What is?” Crystal asked.
“The ABIX implosion,” he said, dramatically. “It always happens. But don’t worry, we always survive.”
There was a pause.
Then Crystal exhaled. “Sorry lah. I haven’t slept in two days. My brain is making me hallucinate Calculus formulas in the air.”
Ivan chuckled. “I think I just shouted at Isabelle because I’m cranky from drinking two kopi-o kosong.”
Isabelle nodded. “And I’m just… overwhelmed. I’m scared I’ll fail.”
Aleem, who had been unusually quiet all day, finally spoke.
“You won’t. Even if you do badly—it doesn’t mean you’re not smart. It means you’re tired. We’re tired.”
There was something about the way he said it. No sugarcoating. Just truth.
Crystal let her head drop to the table. “Let’s nap here forever.”
“I’m down,” Ivan said, already lowering his chair like a recliner.
“Group nap,” Aleem said.
“I’m setting a 17-minute timer,” Isabelle whispered, closing her eyes.
And so, in the middle of the Hive, amidst the buzzing fluorescents and distant footsteps, ABIX power-napped in a pile of academic exhaustion and quiet solidarity.
Over the next few days, things got better.
Ivan printed out “motivational” quotes and stuck them to the study corner wall. One of them read: “You can’t fail if you drop out before the exam.”
Crystal brought baked goods—questionable muffins, but baked with love. Isabelle started bringing her Bluetooth speaker, playing soft lo-fi and sometimes even Studio Ghibli piano tracks. Aleem, true to his word, replaced the stolen Kettle Chips… and added Yakult.
Each of them had moments of breakdown, moments of silence, and moments of unexpected clarity.
They didn’t study the same way, or even talk much during the worst of it. But their presence was enough. It reminded each of them: I’m not alone in this.
Finally, the exams came.
And went.
The last paper ended at 3:30PM on a Tuesday. The moment the lecturer said “you may leave,” ABIX bolted from the exam hall like convicts escaping prison.
They gathered outside, clutching bubble teas and dragging their feet across the grass of North Spine Plaza. No words were exchanged for the first few minutes. Just sighs, slurps, and the kind of dazed laughter that only sleep-deprived survivors can understand.
“So,” Ivan said. “Same time next sem?”
“Yah,” Crystal replied. “We die together again.”
“ABIX tradition,” Aleem muttered, leaning against a railing.
“Also,” Isabelle said, straightening. “I don’t know if I passed my Mods…”
“Don’t care,” Ivan interrupted. “We all go out tonight. Win or lose.”
Crystal raised her bubble tea. “To ABIX.”
Aleem clinked his cup against hers. “And to passing by miracle.”
They all laughed.
They didn’t know their grades. They didn’t know what came next.
But they knew one thing:
Whatever life threw at them next semester, next year, or ten years down the road—
They’d figure it out.
Together.