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I force a smile. “Wow. You really need to work hard for that.” “Why do you think I stay in the top five per cent?” He winks. Sometimes, I forget that he’s one of the top students in RES. “Does your father throw a word with the teachers?” “My father doesn’t need to throw any word. They’d do it on their own.” He sips from his cola. “I don’t need the push, though. I can get the grades.” “Really?” I sound as suspicious as I feel. “I don’t see you study even during the finals.” He chuckles, eyes glinting with mischief. “You are stalking me.” “I’m just saying that those in the top ten per cent care more about their grades than you do.” “That’s because you guys work hard instead of working smart. What will slaving for grades give you?” “I don’t know.” I mock. “Good universities?” “And then what? Elite jobs. An expensive house in an upper-class neighbourhood. German cars. Wife. Kids. The whole cliché. What after?” He seems bored with the whole list, but then again, why wouldn’t he? Since his b