Not Today Satan

***Maeve Thorne***

I sprint through the corridor, my chest heaving with every ragged breath. Twelve minutes. I am exactly twelve minutes late. My sneakers squeak against the linoleum floor, the sharp sound echoing in the dead silence of the massive examination hall.

I slide into an empty wooden desk near the back and press my palms together, bowing my head. *Dear Lord. Lovely, dear Lord. Hear me out. Let me pass this one exam, and I swear I will study my ass off for the next one. Amen.*

I made a deal with God. Nothing can go wrong today.

An invigilator walks over and drops the question paper face-down in front of me. I offer a quick nod, ignoring my brain’s nagging lecture about punctuality. I am wearing my lucky Nikes. I can make up for the lost time. I memorized enough Java loops last night to scrape a passing grade.

I flip the paper over, inhale a deep breath, and read the first question.

My brow furrows. The words stare back at me, making zero sense. Maybe it is from that one tricky chapter I skipped at 2 AM. No big deal. I refuse to let negativity ruin my focus.

I skip to the next question. Then the next. And the next.

A cold sweat breaks out across the back of my neck. Wait a second. This stuff is not in the textbook. It is not even in the syllabus. Since when do AND gates and OR gate circuits belong in a Java coding exam?

My heart hammers against my ribs in a frantic rhythm. I scan the entire sheet, desperate for a simple string variable question to start with. Nothing. Not a single programming code.

I glance around the quiet hall. The other students are writing with dedicated focus. A guy in the front row even raises his hand for an extra supplementary sheet. *What the hell?* Did the professors drink tequila before setting this paper?

Panic grips my throat. I drag my gaze up to the bold black letters printed at the very top of the page.

My jaw drops open. The shock hits me so hard my freshly glossed lips part in pure, spine-tingling horror. I literally have to pick my chin up off the cold cement floor.

Subject: Digital Circuits.

Fuck.

FUCK.

F U C K.

*Not today, Satan.*

I sit there, frozen in my plastic chair, staring at the ultimate proof of my stupidity. I showed up for the wrong exam. I was hoping for a miracle to pass Java, but sitting here with a Digital Circuits paper? I am dead. My grand plan to graduate this semester is officially buried. One thing is certain now—I will fail.

I drag my feet the entire way home. The moment I shove my front door open, I dump my bag onto the living room couch. My hands shake as I pull up the university exam timetable on my phone.

Tomorrow is the Java exam.

A scream builds in my throat. *Why, God, why?*

I cannot do it. I refuse to stare at that evil coding labyrinth for another night. My legs give out. I collapse straight onto the floor, spreading my arms and legs wide. Exhaustion crushes my bones like I just built Rome in a single afternoon. Graduation is a joke now. I am not getting that degree. Which means my mother’s threat of forcing me to marry a boring businessman is creeping closer to reality.

I need a Plan B. I need to make my own money to be independent.

I stay flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to catalog my marketable talents.

*I am flawless with tongue twisters.*

*I can unhinge my jaw to fit more food in my mouth.*

*I can make my eyebrows dance to a beat.*

*I can spin pens around my thumb fast.*

*I am fluent in profanities.*

I groan, covering my face. I am a useless sack of potatoes. I do not have a boyfriend or a millionaire sugar daddy to bail me out. Maddox is probably enjoying his European vacation right now, and I am stuck on the same floor, in the same room, trapped in the exact same situation as last year.

My twin brother scored A1 grades in his finals. He has so many academic certificates that Google and Microsoft might knock on his door tomorrow. Me? I have a dancing left eyebrow.

I roll onto my side, staring blankly at the wall. Five minutes pass in utter silence. The blank wall suddenly looks very interesting.

I sit up, snatching my phone from the floor. I open the browser and type in a new search: *job vacancies for freshers in multinational companies.*

A slow, sly smirk creeps onto my face as the search results load. If God is not going to help me secure my freedom and income, I am glad Satan is.

He-He. Ha-Ha. Hey-Hey.