Chapter 5

"You were right there when he said it, and you agreed and said, 'Got it, understood.' Then you turned around and printed them in pink anyway."

Ms. Ashby's face cycled between red and white.

Caelum saw her floundering and shot me a vicious glare. "Everyone, calm down! The principal is already on his way, remember? He went back to the school to reprint the tickets. He'll be here any minute!"

"Oh right, the principal went to get them reprinted."

"But… Will he make it in time?" someone asked in a small, trembling voice that was close to tears.

Caelum clenched his jaw. "He'll make it! You're still allowed into the exam hall up to 15 minutes after it starts. We have time. Don't panic!"

He sounded absolutely certain, but he couldn't stop himself from glancing out the window every few seconds.

The minutes crawled by. The crowd of parents and well-wishers outside the exam hall gradually thinned out as students from every other school filed inside. A suffocating tension filled the bus.

Some students had started to cry quietly. Others kept checking their watches over and over. A few were gripping their pink admission tickets so hard their knuckles had gone white. Ms. Ashby sat hunched in her seat, shooting me the occasional look filled with pure venom.

Finally, with less than three minutes left before the doors closed for good, a cab screeched to a halt outside the exam hall barricade. The door flew open and Principal Jones stumbled out, clutching a stack of crisp white papers as he sprinted toward the bus.

"They're here! The tickets are here!"

The bus exploded with cheers, and a few students jumped to their feet in excitement.

"Coming through! Move!"

Principal Jones was gasping for air as he reached the bus doors, and he was just about to step on when Ms. Ashby suddenly lurched to her feet.

"Wait!" She staggered down the steps and grabbed the stack of tickets from Principal Jones's arms. "We don't need these! We don't need your charity!"

Principal Jones froze. "Have you lost your mind? These are the students' admission tickets!"

Ms. Ashby's tears came flooding back. "I'm not accepting these! If I do, you'll all say I was wrong! I wasn't wrong! There's nothing wrong with pink!"

The two of them struggled over the papers at the foot of the bus. Principal Jones was drenched in sweat, terrified of tearing them but desperate to pull them free. "Let go! This is the future of thirty-nine students!"

"I don't need your charity! I'll prove that pink works just fi—" Ms. Ashby yanked hard, and her foot slipped, her skirt tangling around her ankles. Everyone only had time to watch her pitch backward.

A shriek rang out, and she toppled into the decorative fountain behind her, the entire stack of admission tickets clutched to her chest. By the time they pulled her out, every last ticket in her arms had been reduced to a soggy, disintegrating mess.

"My admission ticket!"

The proctor checked her watch and let out a sigh. "All examinees must present a valid admission ticket to enter. No exceptions."

"Then what happens to us? We can't take the exam? We've been preparing for 12 years!"

The bus dissolved into sobs. Ms. Ashby stared at the chaos around her, dazed, mumbling to herself. "I didn't want this to happen… I just didn't want to admit I was wrong… I wasn't wrong…"

In the middle of all the crying and the panic, I pulled out my admission ticket. "Excuse me. Am I cleared to go in?"