I’d studied for days. I knew all the material. Nearly aced every assignment. Now here I was sitting staring at the test. The whole day leading up to this, I had been one big ball of anxiety. All I could think of was how nervous I was for it to come. Now here I was. It was time. I was staring at the test. I’d got one part right at least. I congratulated myself with a smile. I admired it glowingly. If nothing else I knew I could get at least one thing correct and they couldn’t take that from me. I was on a roll. Suddenly my heart sank into my stomach. God damn. I had misspelled my name. How does that happen? I didn’t even get one part right. I could feel my heartbeat as sweat beaded along my forehead. I stared at the words. Individually I knew what they meant. Together they just formed an incoherent mess of shapes. The tick of the clock became a boom, boom, boom. Suddenly a flurry of noise. Someone was packing up their stuff. They walked to the front and turned in their test. They were done? How? I scrambled for my eraser and vigorously rubbed the top of the test. Graphite smeared and formed a dark vortex cloud on the paper, which was adequately symbolic as my future was being sucked away by this test minute by minute. More and more students packed up turning in their test. Each one sending a new stab of anxiety down my neck, my shoulders hunched higher. My chest was tight. Suddenly relief surged through me. I sat up straight. Finally I began writing. I had it. T-h-o-m-a-s. My name was Thomas!

“Time!” the professor called.

I couldn’t breathe. The edges of my vision started turning black. I sank back in my seat.

“Well there goes your future, Sean.” I thought to myself then groaned. Thomas was my middle name.

Minutes later I stepped up to the window with a friendly smile.

“Hi, I’d like to drop a class.”