Torn between two: The faith and The heart

It had been six weeks since Mysha and Tabish became friends. On campus, they were inseparable, sharing laughter, deep conversations, and an unspoken bond. Both felt a new and indescribable emotion, one they couldn't quite name or express.

"What on earth is this?" Mysha whispered to herself, staring at the exam paper in front of her.

"Not a single question? I don't even know the answer to one!" She battled her thoughts, trying to stay calm as she started reading the first question.

"Cameiuni-comiunaye-c-communication." Her eyes welled up, the looming fear of failure pressing down on her. "I'll fail this time too," she muttered, a tear rolling down her cheek and onto the answer sheet.

Just then, a voice broke the silence. "Sir, it's really hot back here. Can I sit in the front?" Tabish asked, holding his paper. The invigilator, considering Tabish's good reputation, nodded. Tabish moved to sit diagonally across from Mysha.

Mysha turned and found Tabish already looking at her. He offered a reassuring smile, which she returned, though her tears still shimmered.

"I'll help you, don't worry," he mouthed, smiling again.

She nodded, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Forty minutes later, with only forty minutes left in the exam, Tabish put his pen down and glanced at Mysha, who was looking around in distress.

"Mysh," he whispered.

She turned to him. He slid his sheet to the edge of his table, his writing large and clear for her to see.

She began to copy, but soon her expression changed, tears streaming down her face again. Tabish's eyes widened as he saw her struggle. Her pace and spelling mistakes, compounded by her dyslexia, made it impossible to finish on time.

"I'm leaving," she mouthed, wiping her tears. He shook his head repeatedly, but she stood up.

"Sir-" she called the invigilator, but Tabish quickly stood up too.

"Sir, someone called you in the corridor. I saw a student," he blurted out. Mysha looked at him, puzzled.

"Ahsan, come here for a moment," the invigilator called their class representative, who stood and approached the rostrum. The invigilator walked outside.

"Ahsan, can I borrow the stapler from Mysha?" Tabish asked, holding his sheets. Ahsan hesitated but nodded.

Tabish walked over to Mysha. "Staple this with your question paper," he whispered, sliding another answer sheet under his own.

Mysha's eyes widened. "But-"

"Do it," he insisted, glancing at her before returning to his seat.

With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Mysha stapled the sheets together. She didn't want to cheat, but she had no other option. Failure meant becoming the campus joke again, a fate she desperately wanted to avoid.

When the invigilator returned, they handed in their papers and walked out of the room together.

"I risked my reputation only to see a smile on your face, and you are still upset," Tabish said, smiling as they walked through the corridors.

She forced a smile before saying, "No, I'm glad that I won't fail the exam but-"

"But what?" he questioned, seeing her expression sadden again.

"But, I feel bad for not doing it myself. I wanted to pass the exam, but I wanted to do it myself. But it turns out I'm a loser who can only pass with cheating-"