At the security checkpoint, the proctor in charge spotted the pink pens in our hands. His brow furrowed into a tight knot.
He picked one up, turned to Henry, and made one last attempt.
"I'm going to say this one more time. Aside from pencils for the answer sheet, all written responses must be in black ink. Otherwise, you bear the consequences."
"Yeah, yeah, we heard you!"
Henry waved him off impatiently and snatched the pen back. "Our whole class is using these. If anything goes wrong, that's on us."
He said it with iron conviction. Behind him, the rest of the class puffed out their chests, every one of them wearing the expression of someone making a noble stand.
The proctor looked at this wall of students who refused to listen to reason, shook his head in resignation, and waved them through.
I was last in line. I passed through security in silence.
I watched them stride into the exam hall one by one, chins high, brimming with confidence. They looked like sacrificial offerings marching toward the altar, cheering for the privilege of climbing onto it.
The bell for the first exam, English, rang out like a starting pistol, sounding simultaneously across every testing center in the city.