"Just five minutes, Maxim!" Sasha pleaded, grabbing the notebook. He began to (copy) the homework at lightning speed. His pencil blurred across the paper.

The Tuesday morning sun hit the chalkboard as the bell rang. Panic swept through the room like a cold breeze. "Did you do the long division on page 42?" whispered Katya, her eyes wide. "It was impossible!"

Mrs. Ivanova walked up and down the aisles. She stopped at Maxim’s desk. "Excellent work as always, Maxim," she said. Then she looked at Sasha. "And Sasha... how interesting. You’ve even copied the tiny coffee stain Maxim has on his margin."

The class froze. Sasha looked down. He had drawn a perfect, tiny brown circle on his paper to match Maxim’s notebook.

The notebook passed from hand to hand like a secret map. Dasha copied the geometry; Ivan rushed through the word problems. By the time their teacher, Mrs. Ivanova, walked into the room, every student in 4-A sat perfectly still, their notebooks open to page 42, all with the exact same neat (and slightly frantic) handwriting.

Maxim didn't say a word. He just slowly unzipped his backpack and pulled out a notebook that seemed to glow with perfection. He placed it on the corner of his desk. A line formed immediately. It was the "Great 4-A Handover."

"Wait," Katya hissed, leaning over Sasha’s shoulder. "Maxim, why is the answer to problem three '452'? I got 'fruit salad'."

Maxim sighed. "Next time, guys," he whispered, "maybe leave out the stains."