The morning sun filtered softly through the classroom blinds.
The class was calm—a little too calm—except for the faint voice of someone presenting up front…
…and the quiet snoring coming from the middle row.
Robinson was completely out cold, his head resting on his arm, still wearing his hoodie.
His breathing was steady, his hair messy, and there was a smudge of oil on his collar—leftovers from last night's race.
Daryl sat beside him, trying not to laugh.
He leaned over and whispered,
"Bro… wake up. This ain't a pit stop."
From the front of the class, the teacher called out louder,
"Robinson. Robinson! You wanna sleep or join the lesson?"
Some students were already giggling.
Robinson mumbled without lifting his head,
"Just… five more minutes, sir…"
The whole class laughed. The teacher sighed.
"Fine. Then you'll have five extra minutes for your presentation later."
Cassandra, sitting a few rows ahead, turned her head slightly to glance at Robinson.
Her face was neutral, but her eyes lingered on him longer than expected.
When Robinson finally opened one eye groggily, their eyes met for just a second.
Cassandra quickly looked away.
But a faint smile flickered at the corner of her lips… just enough for Daryl to nudge Robinson lightly.
"Dude… I think I'm the one sleeping, but you're the one dreaming."
Robinson tugged his hoodie down further.
"I'm just… still winning from last night."
The teacher cut in, "Well, then it's time to start winning in the classroom too.
To the front, Robinson. Now."
Robinson looked over at Daryl, who was grinning from ear to ear.
"Good luck, street champ."
Robinson let out a long sigh, stood up with sleepy steps, and walked to the front—met with chuckles and light applause from the class.
Even Cassandra couldn't hide the small smirk as she watched the troublemaker being dragged into the spotlight.
Robinson stood in front of the class, walking lazily with messy hair and sleepy eyes. In his hand was a single, crumpled piece of paper.
The teacher crossed his arms.
"Go ahead, Robinson. Show us your group presentation."
Robinson glanced at the whiteboard, then at his classmates.
He took a deep breath and began.
"Good morning, everyone... or afternoon... I'm not sure, honestly. I just woke up."
Some students laughed instantly. Daryl whistled softly to cheer him on.
"This presentation is, uh... about Social Change in the Modern Era."
He raised his paper dramatically and stared at it like it contained deep research—when in reality, the back was totally blank.
"So, social change is... like when you used to ride a beat-up scooter, and now you're driving an RX-King. That's change."
The whole class burst into laughter. The teacher tried to hide a smirk.
Cassandra covered her mouth, clearly amused.
"And in the modern era, everything moves faster. Like... we used to write love letters. Now? Just send an emoji reaction. That's social change... and honestly, it hurts."
More laughter. Daryl slapped his desk, laughing hard.
Robinson kept going like a stand-up comedian:
"Back then, to be famous you needed talent. Now? Just dance in front of your phone, go viral three times, and boom—next day you're doing a collab with a K-pop star."
"But the craziest change? Gas prices. That's not social change anymore, that's national suffering."
The classroom was in chaos. Even the teacher let out a small chuckle.
Robinson finished in a mock-TV-host voice:
"So in conclusion, social change is real. And we have to face it... just like we face surprise tests, exes dating our friends, or... crushes who smile at everyone but us."
Once again, the room erupted in laughter. Cassandra looked at Robinson... and her smile lingered longer than usual.
The teacher raised a hand.
"Alright, that's enough. Robinson, your presentation... was way off format, but honestly? You woke everyone up. You get a 70—because you were honest and bold."
Robinson sat back down next to Daryl, who was still chuckling.
"You know what? If you ever quit racing, you've got a future in comedy," Daryl said between laughs.
Robinson grinned, then glanced at Cassandra.
Their eyes met for a second.
She raised her thumb—just slightly.
Robinson sat in the corner of the cafeteria with Daryl. Fried rice and iced tea were on their trays, but Robinson was only playing with his spoon.
Daryl was casually eating.
"What's up with you? Still thinking about that presentation? I thought Mr. Guru was gonna throw an eraser at you, but you ended up getting applause."
Robinson gave a lazy half-smile.
"It's not that. I'm just... tired."
Suddenly, Zashiro showed up, tossed his bag on the bench, and sat next to them.
"Whoa, today's star boy looks down. You tired, hungry, or... jealous?"
He laughed and snatched a cracker from Daryl's plate.
Robinson raised an eyebrow.
"What are you talking about?"
Zashiro pointed toward the food line.
All three of them turned to look.
Cassandra had just grabbed her lunch tray—rice and fried chicken—walking toward a table on the other side of the cafeteria. But then, Leon showed up right behind her, walking with that usual smug swagger. Without saying anything, he followed her and sat down at the same table. The two of them began talking quietly, Cassandra letting out a small laugh—whether from awkwardness or enjoyment, it wasn't clear.
Robinson didn't say a word, but his eyes stayed locked on them.
Daryl gave a low whistle.
"Well, well… Leon's moving fast, huh? Loses a race yesterday, tries to win the girl today?"
Zashiro chewed slowly, then nudged Robinson.
"So, boss… you want us to storm over there and start a love triangle drama?"
Robinson turned his gaze away and looked down.
"Whatever… that's their business."
But Daryl knew his best friend too well.
"Rob… you pulled her hand yesterday in front of everyone. Don't go back to being a coward now. If you like her, go after her. Don't wait till she's riding with that alien every morning."
Zashiro nodded, teasing,
"Besides, your car's way cooler. And don't forget—you've got Leon's wallet now."
Robinson stayed quiet. But his hand clenched under the table.
His expression slowly shifted—not just jealousy… but determination.
Zashiro grinned.
"Looks like we're getting a new episode this afternoon..."
Robinson stood up from the cafeteria bench without saying a word, leaving Daryl and Zashiro exchanging curious glances. He walked calmly but firmly through the crowded lunchroom toward the table where Cassandra and Leon were sitting.
A few students turned to watch—sensing drama in the air.
Robinson stopped next to their table.
In a flat but sharp tone, he looked directly at Cassandra and said:
"Having fun with the conversation?"
Leon looked up slowly, leaning back in his chair with a smug expression.
"Got a problem with that?"
Robinson didn't take his eyes off Cassandra.
"I was just asking. Wondering if you were laughing because it's funny… or because it's awkward."
Cassandra stared back at him briefly—expression neutral, though a bit uneasy behind her gaze.
"We're just talking, Rob..."
Robinson gave a slight smirk, then turned to Leon.
"So you enjoy chatting with girls who bet against you?"
Leon scoffed.
"Better than stealing one you can't keep."
A few nearby students murmured and whispered.
Robinson let out a short laugh.
"Not bad, bro. But you forgot one thing."
Leon raised an eyebrow.
"What's that?"
Robinson pointed at the back pocket of Leon's jeans.
"Your wallet still has the imprint of my hand from last night."
Leon immediately stood up, but Cassandra grabbed his arm.
"Enough! Both of you are acting like kids."
Robinson stared at Cassandra, calmer now.
"I just want to know one thing."
Cassandra looked back at him, silent.
"Are you with him… or are you just sitting there because you didn't feel like saying no?"
She lowered her eyes for a second.
"I… just didn't feel like sitting alone."
Robinson gave a small nod.
"Alright then..."
He glanced once more at Leon, then turned and walked back to his table without another word.
As he sat down, Daryl stood up and raised both thumbs.
Zashiro let out a low whistle.
"This is turning into a high school soap opera..."
Robinson sat again.
"At least now I know who I can actually talk to."