When I woke up the next morning, the only thing on my mind wasn't Flavia's class—it was Ella's message. I had studied notes all night, but between every formula and theory, the ghost of that simple sentence wandered: "...can I talk to you about something?"
When I arrived on campus, I was more tense than usual. This wasn't just the tension that came with Flavia's class; this was the tension of anticipation, of the unknown. I was prepared. Thanks to the notes I'd studied last night, I felt secure behind the walls of a fortress against any complex probability problem Flavia might ask. But Ella's question... that was an area where I had no defense.
When class began, Flavia was as merciless as always. The questions she asked caused most of the class to stare blankly. But I was calm. When she called me to the board, I solved something similar to that old exam question I'd memorized last night—step by step, explaining each variable. Not the slightest expression of appreciation appeared on Flavia's face, but when she said "you may sit," there was no trace of her usual condescending tone either. In her language, this was a victory.
When the bell rang signaling the end of class, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. I, however, entered a state of tense waiting. I packed my things as slowly as possible, watching the door from the corner of my eye. While most students rushed out, I noticed a few whispering and pointing at me. "That's the kid from yesterday's programming class..."
I heard those quiet footsteps just as I was about to shoulder my bag and leave.
Ella was standing beside my desk. She clutched her notebook tightly in her hands and avoided my gaze. "Hello," she whispered.
The strategist in me immediately activated: Stay calm, keep your distance, and let her speak. I just nodded in greeting.
Ella took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for bothering you, but..." She paused, as if searching for the right words. "...but about Professor Flavia's class... I wanted to talk to you."
So that's what this is about, thought a voice inside me.
"You..." Ella continued, her voice getting even quieter. "You stood up to her on the first day and somehow... survived. I... I'm thinking about dropping the class. But do you think that would be a mistake? Would I get in trouble if I talked to the dean's office?" She finally lifted her eyes from the floor to look at me. There was pure fear in her eyes. "You seem like you could succeed in this class. What do you think I should do?"
At that moment, all those social interaction theories, all those "stay indifferent, be mysterious" strategies, suddenly became meaningless. Across from me wasn't a "target" or "a puzzle to be solved." Across from me was a desperate person feeling the same fear I had felt months ago.
At that moment, I understood what it meant to want to be an advisor. This wasn't a role played to impress people. This was a hand instinctively extended to help when you saw someone's fear.
The strategist fell silent. Instead, that lonely Octavian from high school spoke—the Octavian who didn't want anyone else to experience the same loneliness.
"Don't drop it," I said, my voice becoming more transparent and genuine than expected. "Don't make the decision right away."
Ella was surprised. She probably expected an arrogant answer that would establish my superiority over her.
"Why?" she asked in a whisper.
"Because you're deciding out of fear right now," I said. "That's Flavia's goal, too. To eliminate by frightening the class and keep only the most resilient ones. If you quit now, you'll be letting her win."
I moved my chair to the side, pointing to the space beside it. "Sit for a minute," I said.
She sat hesitantly.
"Look," I continued, lowering my voice. "Do you think I'm not afraid of her? I'm scared as hell. But I'm more afraid of failing than I am of her. That's why I studied her old class notes for hours last night. I was prepared."
Ella's eyes widened with astonishment. "Old class notes? Where did you find them?"
"Long story. But I can share them with you if you want," I said. "Also, going to the dean's office is an option, but think of it as a last resort. The regulations say that course changes can be made with the advisor's approval within the first two weeks. Do you know who our advisor is?"
Ella shook her head.
"Professor Livia."
Hearing this name somewhat eased the tension on Ella's face. "So..."
"So, if you think this class isn't for you after two weeks, we'll talk to Professor Livia. I'm sure she'll help. But don't give up immediately. At least it's worth trying."
There was a moment of silence. Ella looked at the desk before her, trying to digest what she'd heard. Then she turned to me, and a grateful smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, Octavian," she said. "Really... thank you. This was very helpful."
"It's nothing," I said. When I said this phrase for the first time, I felt I meant it sincerely.
Ella stood up, her hopeless expression completely erased from her face. "About the notes... what are you going to do? Will you send them to me, too?"
"Oh, right," I said, smiling as I mentioned the detail that came to mind. "Since you texted me privately, I have your number too." I removed my phone, found the relevant folder in my cloud storage account, and copied the sharing link. "Wait a second... There, I sent it."
Just then, the phone in Ella's bag vibrated slightly. She looked at her phone, then at my face with amazement. "Already? You're incredible. Really, thank you so much, Octavian."
"It's nothing," I said. And this time, my sincerity was even more real than the last.
"See you!" she said as she left the classroom.
I stared after her. In my chest was a strange, warm feeling I'd never experienced. This wasn't that fake feeling of victory from impressing a girl. This was the pure, unadulterated happiness that came from being able to help someone and lighten someone's burden.
My undergraduate years might not have been so pathetic after all. Reliability may not come from playing roles but simply from listening and sharing what you know.
When I left the classroom with these thoughts, I had a real idea for the first time about what the "new me" should look like. And this wasn't explained in any of the videos I watched.
After Ella left, I was alone in the classroom for a moment. When I looked around, I noticed something: Cassius, Gaius, and Marcus weren't in class today. Maybe they decided to change courses, too. Just like Ella was about to give up, they gave up too. Flavia's elimination tactic is working.
The familiar smell of chalk dust and old papers reached my nose when I pushed through the heavy wooden door into the empty corridor. My footsteps echoed on the polished stone floor, creating an eerie silence in the nearly empty building. Just then, my phone vibrated. It was a message from the class group. Cassius had written, "Where are you, philosopher? We're waiting for you at the cafeteria."
I was surprised. They weren't in class but on campus, so they hadn't dropped the class; they'd just skipped it.
I should go, I thought. I stepped out into the campus courtyard through the large, arched door at the end of the corridor. The sudden light of the midday sun dazzled my eyes. Around me, the cheerful sounds of students laughing and chatting in groups created a complete contrast to the gloomy silence of the building I'd just been in.
As I walked toward the cafeteria building, a new debate had started in my mind. Was it better to be fake and the "new me," or the sincere and honest "me" who had just helped Ella? On one side was that cool, know-it-all role I played around Cassius and Gaius. This role drew attention and could make me popular. On the other hand, I felt pure satisfaction when helping Ella. I hadn't applied a strategy at that moment. I had just done what came naturally, and the result was wonderful. This wasn't a victory; it was a connection.
As I approached the cafeteria building, that familiar din could be heard from a distance, and the greasy smell of food began to permeate the air. When I reached the crowded and noisy entrance of the building, I was still undecided. Which path would be my new life? The complex path behind roles and masks, or the simpler, warmer trail that honesty and sincerity brought?
[Same Moment - On the Way to the Cafeteria - Ella's Perspective]
When I left the classroom, I couldn't believe how light my steps had become. That heavy, invisible weight on my shoulders seemed to have evaporated and vanished. I could feel my cheeks burning, but it was from pure relief, not shame this time. Going to talk to Octavian... was the scariest but also the rightest decision I'd made in the last few days.
Why had I gone to him? Looking at his behavior the first few days, he seemed more unreachable, more complex than everyone else in class. But... he wasn't. There was a contradiction in him. On one side was that vulnerable child who was embarrassed when he spilled water in Livia's class, who panicked when he stood up to Flavia; on the other side was that confident expert who calmly proved he knew four programming languages. This oscillation between two extremes prevented him from being a one-dimensional "genius" or "arrogant person." It made him... human.
And when I asked him that question, he didn't give any of the reactions I expected. He could have acted superior to me. He could have said, "If you're afraid of this class, it's not for you anyway." But he didn't. Instead of giving me a calculated, cold answer, he confessed his fear. I'm scared as hell. This honesty instantly tore down that invisible wall between us.
That's when I understood. Maybe that philosophical attitude, those complex sentences, were just a mask he took refuge in when he didn't know what to say or was overly tense. A defense mechanism. Because just now, when he focused on someone's problem, that mask had disappeared entirely. What remained was just a bright and surprisingly kind boy trying to help.
With these thoughts, I realized my stomach was rumbling as I walked through the campus courtyard to the cafeteria. I had forgotten how hungry I was with the stress of class. As I headed toward the building, I felt more hopeful than ever. I could survive at this institute. Perhaps I didn't have to be alone.
The familiar smell of food and din greeted me when I entered the door. My eye caught him momentarily in the crowd—Octavian. He was standing right at the entrance, as if hesitating between entering and not entering. At that moment, I whispered, "He's at least as lost as you are." And somehow, this thought gave me strange confidence.
[Same Moment - Cafeteria]
When I entered through the din-filled doors of the cafeteria, my internal war about which mask I should wear was still ongoing. As I scanned the crowd, I saw Cassius, Gaius, and Marcus sitting at a corner table. As I walked toward them, the warmth of the pure satisfaction I felt while helping Ella was still in my chest.
"Here comes our philosopher too," Gaius called out as soon as he saw me.
When I sat at the table, I said directly, "You weren't in class. Don't tell me you ran away from Professor Flavia, too?"
Cassius laughed. "Not running away, let's call it strategic withdrawal. We couldn't decide whether to drop the class or not. We decided to spend today exploring the campus. What did you do? Did you manage to impress Flavia again?"
Just as I was about to open my mouth and give one of my usual cool answers, my eye caught Ella looking toward us. She was holding her tray, looking for a table to sit alone. At that moment, the two voices in my mind fell silent. There was neither "arrogant expert" nor "distant philosopher." There was just Octavian, who had just helped someone share their fear.
I stood up and called out to her. "Ella! If you're alone, would you like to eat with us?"
The whole table suddenly turned to me. Cassius's mouth opened in astonishment, and Ella was just as surprised as they were. She hesitated momentarily, nodded with slightly flushed cheeks, and walked toward our table.
"Guys, this is Ella," I said when she approached us. "We're in the same class."
Gaius immediately pulled out a chair with his usual cheerful attitude, while Cassius introduced himself with a charming smile. Marcus just nodded slightly in greeting. After Ella sat down, I looked around at those at the table.
"I'm surprised," I said, turning to those at the table. "Didn't anyone join your invitation?"
Cassius laughed bitterly. "Invitation? A few people came, but when they saw only us guys sitting at the table, they said hello and went to their own tables. You know, that weird dynamic of the first weeks."
Gaius added, "If it weren't for your bold move, we would have closed today as the 'boys' table' too."
At this comment, I changed the subject while Ella's cheeks flushed slightly. Throughout the meal, we had a surprisingly normal conversation. Ella discussed her concerns about classes, while Cassius and Gaius discussed the places they discovered on campus. I mostly listened. You don't need to play a role.
After we all got up and left after the meal, Gaius put his arm around my shoulder. "Dude," he said, with genuine admiration in his voice. "You weren't lying. You really can get along well with girls."
This praise hit my stomach like a punch. As I said goodbye to them and walked toward the bus stop, the war in my mind had flared up again. I lied. But my lie seemed real to them. My theoretical knowledge completely failed in my test with Felissia. But my sincerity worked in my test with Ella. What do you think should happen now? Which is the right way?
When I got on the bus, these thoughts ate at my brain. Flavia hadn't expected anything from me today. She neither scolded nor praised. Was this a good thing? Was I no longer a special target, or was this the calm before the storm? When the sharp smell of the man sitting next to me, soaked in sweat, filled my nose, I pulled myself out of my thoughts. I smelled myself. I was clean, but... I noted that I should get better cologne in the corner of my mind.
When I got home, I said hello to my mother and ran straight to my room. There was only one way to get rid of the confusion in my mind: to take refuge in the only thing I could control: my lessons. Tomorrow, I have a new teacher and a new class. I had to be prepared.
I turned on my computer and typed my new teacher's name into the search bar: Aurex Cassimar.
The first result was a student forum. When I read the title, I felt my blood drain: "Guide to Surviving Aurex Cassimar."
I clicked. What I read was horrifying. "It's impossible to pass his class," someone had written. Another said, "The only person whose ego is bigger than himself." "The questions he asks have nothing to do with the class; he just asks them to humiliate you."
As my breath caught from stress, my nightmare from last night came to mind. As I was about to panic, my words to Ella echoed: You shouldn't give up before fighting.
"Yes," I whispered to myself. "I shouldn't give up before fighting."
Just then, my room door opened, and my father came in. He had probably heard me talking to myself. On his face was that proud smile I rarely saw.
"That's right," he said. "Fight, son."
At that moment, a bridge of understanding that couldn't be put into words was built between us.
"By the way," he continued, changing the subject. "Your mother and I talked. You can enroll in driving school this weekend."
My eyes opened wide with amazement. "Really?" I whispered, unable to hide the excitement in my voice. My father's unexpected move silenced all the fears in my mind momentarily. Fighting... and driving. Maybe they were the same thing. Tomorrow, a new battlefield awaited me, and for the first time, I was this impatient to step on the gas.