I idly flipped through the pages of my textbook, trying to block out the droning sound of Mr. Andrews' voice. Even though class had only just begun and it felt like an eternity had passed. A glance at the clock told me that I had much more of this suffering left to endure.

I sighed, looking around the room; everyone was staring at their books or talking amongst themselves. Only a handful appeared to be paying attention to the lesson.

"Alright," said Mr. Andrews in his usual monotone. "The exam is about to begin. Clear your desks, please."

His words snapped me out of my boredom-induced trance. There was an exam today?

"You have 40 minutes, so take your time," he began passing out the test papers. "When you're done please remain seated, and wait until the end of class before turning in your exam." He turned and walked back to his desk, leaving the class to begin writing in silence.

The exam was a small booklet—no more than ten questions on each page—and the first few questions appeared fairly easy. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

It was going well, and despite my lack of preparation, the answers came to me easily enough, and soon I was on the second page. Then I felt it—a slowly building pressure in my bladder. I tried to ignore it and focus on the exam.

I squirmed in my seat