The clock ticked loudly in the near empty room, half of its face unreadable behind the reflection of the late afternoon sun's glare. The windows were wide open, letting the cacophony of the cicadas filter in with the hot air that settled, heavy, on Mi Na's skin. Summer was tough. But, Mi Na thought as a light breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees and found its way inside, cooling down her neck, not unbearable.

Chan Yeol disagreed. The school's air conditioning system was turned off automatically after five o' clock; the main reason why the nearby library was always so full of students merely two hours after dismissal up until about eight o' clock, when most of them would move to their respective cram schools. The light fabric of his shirt was sticking to the low of his back with sweat, his blazer hanging, discarded long ago, beside him with his bag.

He raised a hand to push back his hair, an action that was especially successful thanks to the beads of water that had started to form on his forehead. He was beginning to question just how necessary this exam was and even considered making up some sort of excuse so he could leave. He would have never done it. 

"Now," Miss Kang started, eyeing some sheets of paper in her hands. "Shall we?" 

Her eyes met Chan Yeol's, and he nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Please, let's get this over with quickly.

His mind-set quickly morphed, though, as soon as she set the questionnaire in front of him. Unfortunately, he took tests seriously, which, by the looks of the readings he was skimming, meant he wouldn't be finishing any time soon. 

"Remember," His teacher interrupted his budding concentration briefly. "This is just to have an idea of your level so we can build an appropriate program to prepare you for the Olympics. Don't be too pressured." 

Somehow, it felt like she was only speaking to Chan Yeol. 

Pushing any other thoughts to the back of his mind, he got started on the first large paragraph. It was an article on the benefits of properly designed irrigation systems in the countryside, and, as he read, his highlighter systematically ran over the strangest words and what seemed like key ideas. Sure enough, upon reading the questions and options, some of the answers were already surrounded by yellow ink. Even so, he went back and read again. He answ