Nick gathered two friends he was close with from the class and shared his plan with them. His frustration with Jennifer was palpable. As he confided to his friends, if Jennifer hadn't been a girl, he would have already lashed out at her.

His companions thought Nick was overreacting, finding it unnecessary to create such a rift with the new student. Still, not wanting to disrupt the camaraderie, they nodded in agreement, deciding to teach Jennifer a lesson.

Huddled together in a conspiratorial whisper, they exchanged glances—but Jennifer noticed their furtive conversation, her instincts tingling with a sense of looming trouble.

When the high jump test commenced, Jennifer was watchful. The students before her, boys and girls alike, completed it without much issue. As her turn approached, she inspected the mat meticulously, ensuring no foul play.

Once prepared, she began her approach, sprinting like the wind. But she halted abruptly before the bar.

“What’s wrong?” the gym teacher inquired.

Jennifer scratched her head, apologizing. “Sorry, let me regroup.”

The teacher agreed. Jennifer turned back towards the bar. “I think it’s higher than before,” she suggested.

“Really?” The teacher looked closer and confirmed the bar was indeed five centimeters higher—a significant change in the world of high jump. He turned to Mike, the sports class representative. “Correct it, please.”

Mike, with a sidelong glance at Jennifer, complied—his gaze charged with meaning. 

“Nice catch,” the gym teacher praised her. “Go on, try again.”

Her hunch had been right; Mike was targeting her. On her second attempt, she sprinted forward but stopped once more before the leap.

The teacher frowned. “Don’t be afraid. You can clear it.”

Jennifer shook her head despite the onlooking students growing impatient. She persisted with her claim: “The bar's been raised again.”

Teacher inspection revealed it was true. “Mike, what’s going on?” His voice, deep and imposing, put pressure on even the boldest of students.

Mike, shifting uneasily, mumbled an apology. “I’m feeling unwell today, not performing my duties well.”

The teacher, skeptical but aware of Mike’s usual performance, decided, “Let’s have someone else do it.” His eyes landed on Charlie, standing out with his tall stature. “Charlie, take over.”

Charlie adjusted the bar with precision, locking eyes with Jennifer as she readied for another attempt. The overcast sky and soft breeze tousled her high ponytail gently. Sweat dotted her flushed face, but her focus was intense. Misleadingly innocent, Charlie mused, full of unexpected surprises. He returned her gaze with silent acknowledgment.

This time, Jennifer didn’t stop. She launched towards the bar, pushing off with all her might. The world blurred in a rush, and with a solid thud, she landed on the mat. Stars danced momentarily in her vision before clearing to reveal Charlie, as motionless and solid as a statue, standing at her side.

She gathered herself up, having expected no hand to assist. Teacher’s voice acknowledged her effort—it was a miss, but there were still chances left.

Resolute, Jennifer took two more jumps, each higher than the last, until she cleared the pass mark by a hair’s breadth. Exhausted but relieved, she stumbled from the mat, drawing concerned glances but no assistance.

Then, unexpectedly, a water bottle appeared before her. A boy, unfamiliar but helpful, offered it. Jennifer made no fuss, accepting with a nod, taking a few sips before rinsing her mouth. She handed it back.

“Thanks,” she said curtly, “Pass on my appreciation to Nick and let him know I’m feeling energized now.”

His surprise was evident.

Jennifer chuckled, a spark in her eye but coolness in her demeanor. "Trying the same tactic twice? I'm not that naive."

Watching her classmates' jumps with renewed interest, she kept a keen eye on the conspirators. 

Meanwhile, the boy retreated to Nick’s circle, recounting her words verbatim. Mike, witnessing her wits, couldn't help but begrudgingly admire.

Nick, irritated, dismissed the acknowledgment with a roll of his eyes. Joey suggested bringing in Nick’s infamous cousin—known for his tough demeanor.

Though Nick appeared unenthusiastic about getting others involved, Joey persisted in his fascination with the fabled cousin. “You can’t handle one girl?” he teased.

Mike, uneasy, began to interject, but Nick snapped first. “You think my cousin would discriminate by gender? Think twice. If he were to scare her, who’d take responsibility?”

Joey’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’ll take the fall,” he offered eagerly, undeterred by Nick’s warning.

Riled, Nick stopped at confrontation, finding no satisfaction despite his friend's constant prodding.

As P.E. class concluded, some students regrouped for class, others flocked to the student store for snacks. In need of refreshment, Jennifer joined the latter.

At the small, cramped store, the owners—an older man and his newlywed daughter—struggled to meet the rush of hungry students.

Jennifer queued patiently, finally purchasing bread and water—carefully budgeting, mindful of Mary’s modest allowance warning: “Make this $100 last three days.” 

Under Mary’s guidance, developing frugality came naturally to Jennifer; she could stretch it for half a month, easily.

As she accepted her change, a quick hand snatched two bills from her stack. “Hey!” she barked, protective.

Charlie, ever the opportunist, with nimble fingers, slipped one note to the cashier. “One water, please.”

Striding back to the classroom, he left her flustered, uttering simply, “Fare.”

Realization dawned as Jennifer bit her bread’s corner. Charlie had withheld two twenties—a steep fee for mere transportation.

“Unbelievable,” she thought, incredulous at his gall.

Days later, outside Mary’s room, Jennifer’s cheeks stung with shame. City life was costly; what seemed manageable was fast becoming insufficient. 

Cradling her ledger, it reflected her fledgling attempts toward thrift—earned only more dilemmas amid expensive urban living.