Aryan sat at her desk, her pen poised over the math test paper. Her usually sharp mind felt dull and slow, clouded by the growing discomfort in her stomach. She squirmed in her seat, trying to ignore the churning sensation.

Aryan glanced around the room, her eyes landing on Mr. Thompson, the stern math teacher who was pacing the aisles. "I can't ask to leave now," she thought, her heart pounding. The embarrassment of disrupting the test and drawing attention to herself seemed unbearable.

Aryan felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Aniss, her best friend, seated two desks away, noticed her distress and gave her a questioning look.

Aryan knew she had to make a decision. "I can't do this," she muttered under her breath. Summoning every ounce of courage, she raised her hand, feeling the weight of the entire room's gaze upon her.

"Yes, Aryan?" he asked, his voice calm but firm. Aryan swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need to go to the restroom, please," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

"Go ahead, but be quick," he replied. Aryan quickly gathered her things and hurried out of the classroom, the cool hallway air a welcome relief. She breathed deeply, the nausea subsiding as she moved further away from the tension-filled room.