Dearth of proper sleep, the two-hour long (so far and counting) CHSC hearing proved to be the most boring, most challenging session I had ever participated in my entire life. I’d barely been attentive. The facts were pretty straightforward and clear: two students, a boy and a girl - rumored to be together - were caught red-handed sifting through their school’s main database the weekend before their finals. The only reason the case was elevated was that the boy had argued of how impossibly smooth the plot had been when they’d been discovered, which could only mean one thing: they’d been set up. Oh, and another reason could be that the boy was the son of their school’s Prefect of Discipline and getting expelled would be a very poor reflection of their system of good manners and right conduct or whatever.

The boy’s contention could be right, of course. I meant, hadn’t I been in enough compromising situations to decipher which were real and which were mere plotted scandals? But I wasn’t in the mood to overthink and look beyond the given facts. Actually, my addled brain wasn’t capable of any in-depth scrutiny as of the moment. I could practically feel Jimin’s eyes boring holes through my head from behind me. I didn’t care. If I could afford to entertain any thoughts at all, it would only be about Sojin and how she was faring in the IAC clincher.

But one quick thought of her instantly reminded me of my duty as the Head Prefect and once again, I was forcing my brain to cooperate.

The hall nearly resembled a legitimate courtroom, except the hall was circular and there were no terrifying, long-bearded old folks who struck wooden gavels against sounding blocks to signify order. In the middle of the hall were the accused, settled in separate high chairs and lined before them were five CHSC overseers. Enclosing the hall were bleachers that rose higher with each succeeding row. These bleachers were occupied by all council member attendees.

We, the attendees, were clustered together by school. Thus, I and three fellow Prefects were seated side by side somewhere by the middle row directly facing the accused and behind us were our four other fellow Prefects.

An excruciating two and a half hours into the hearing and we were finally granted a fifteen-minute break. Oh, heavens. Time for a nap. As soon as I spread my arms over the foldable desk, though, Jimin stepped in before me.

“It’s a plot. It’s so obvious.”

I rubbed my eyes, looking up at her. “What?”

“This case,” she said, annoyed. “They’ve been set up.”

“I believe so, too.” I glanced sideways and found Fari leaning attentively beside me, a determined look in her eyes. “The guy’s probably a famous topnotch or something, and the girl’s this typical wallflower whose life is turned around when the guy decides to date her.”

“Their relationship is not even confirmed,” I told Fari who answered with a roll of her eyes.

“They don’t have to confirm it to let people know they’re together.” Fari was squinting her eyes across the hall. “You of all people should know that,” she said more silently.

“Excuse me?”

But two more Prefects joined our huddle and I just knew I wasn’t going to get my nap.

Raksha, one of two Senior Prefects from the general sections, squeezed himself beside Fari and said, “I’ve spoken with the girl.” His middle-eastern accent was thick but understandable. “She said they were supposed to head straight home that night but then Jin” - that’s the guy’s name, I supposed - "was being asked to finish some paperwork for his mother, the Prefect of Discipline, and the girl volunteered to stay behind and help him. She said they weren’t even going through the computers. They were just sorting some paperwork on the desk, no digital help needed, when Jin suddenly said he had to open his mother’s computer to copy some of her files.” He paused, dragging everyone’s curiosity.

“Then?” Jimin demanded.

“And then,” he breathed. “That was it. Less than three minutes into copying those files and the alarm went off and security was all over the place and.. well, that’s what happened. Apparently, some files this Jin guy was transferring were answer keys to their Chemistry exam.”

“What?” Jimin frowned, mirroring my confusion. “But that doesn’t make any sense! Why would he do that? This Jin guy is a famed topnotch in their school and the son of their Prefect of Discipline.”

“Yeah, well, but the girl isn’t.” We all turned our heads to the silent person to my left. Jojo was looking as tired as I was; I was surprised he’d actually been attentive. “If you haven’t noticed, despite Jin being the one who transferred those files, this case mostly points out to the girl being the one in need of the leakages, and that she was getting them through her boyfriend whose mother is the Prefect of Discipline. But here’s an even more important trivia: Jin’s mother is a Chemistry teacher as well.”

The rest of us echoed a unified, “What?” upon that piece of information.

“Where the hell did you hear that?” Jimin asked. “They didn’t divulge that all throughout the hearing.”

“Why would they?” Jojo yawned. “I mean, I’d bet my two kidneys, two bladders and one liver that the only reason they’re even publicizing Jin’s mother to be the Prefect of Discipline is to put emphasis on the guy’s innocence and focus on the girl’s erse intentions.”

“But how did you know?” Jimin insisted.

“It’s a matter of public knowledge, honey, if you’re like me who likes to read boring bulletin boards such as this school’s faculty structure.”

“Okay, wait,” Dana spoke at last. “Are you saying this is actually a plot against just the girl?” Man, these Freshmen sure were attentive. Jojo, Dana and Fari. The future of our school’s Prefect team suddenly shone brighter.

“Looks like it,” Jojo said. “But the bigger question is this, why would they do this, whoever’s behind it?”

It was in that question that I figured which questions needed to be answered to get to the bottom of this. Abandoning all attempts at sneaking in some sleep, I excused myself to go the washroom. I focused on only two questions. First, who was behind the plot and second, what was the motive?

But how was I supposed to answer that with what scant information we’d been provided? If only Sojin were here. Where was she when she’s needed the most? Right, she’s participating in a clincher where she’s also needed the most. The contrasting thought made me chuckle.

The washroom was empty when I entered. Dipping my head low over the sink, I splashed my face with cold water. I shivered a little upon the wetness. I blinked away the drops and stared at the drainage. It was quick to in the water flowing from the faucet. I lifted my damp face towards the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and the shadows beneath them were more horrible than ever. I nearly resigned to dismiss my speculations and just leave the matter to popular judgment. I was graduating anyway. I was at least entitled to relax even in the last few days of high school, right?

Entitlement to relax. Who the heck was I kidding?

When I splashed my face for the last time, Sojin’s memory flashed in my thoughts. Her puckered brows, troubled eyes, pursed lips and basically her disgruntled overall disposition during those moments when she was devising ways to prove my slate clean. She’d been entitled to relax and leave the decision to our school’s authority in every single one of those occasions, but she had opted to step out of her comfort zone for my sake. Why couldn’t I do that now? Relinquish my comfort and extend this one last favor before I finally graduate?

Feeling ashamed, I nearly emptied a tissue box to wipe my face dry. I dashed out of the washroom to rejoin with my fellow Prefects and discuss what we could do to contribute. Out in the hallway, though, I stalled.

Jin and his girlfriend were speaking to each other in hushed voices. They appeared to be in some argument.

“You know I can’t allow that. You know I won’t.”

“But, Jin, don’t you see