"Is Blake really in need of money?" Samantha scanned the notebook Joey handed over, noting the high threefold fare charged by Blake.

Joey, head lowered, felt relieved. She hadn’t completed the task Samantha had set, but the light-hearted tone of her question eased her nerves. She nodded vigorously. Blake seemed the poorest of the lot, she thought.

Samantha, dressed in her cozy, blue-striped pajamas, leaned against the doorframe. Her slender, porcelain fingers absentmindedly traced over the accounting notebook, her smile widening. "Take six hundred dollars with you tomorrow," she instructed Joey.

Joey was about to protest the amount until Samantha continued, "Five hundred for Blake."

Joey’s face fell into silence. Didn't Samantha's uncle worry about jealousy at all? On the surface, she obediently accepted the money, but inside, she was less than satisfied. Over breakfast before school, Joey couldn't hold back, her frown deepening as she voiced her concerns: "That Blake..."

Samantha sipped from her glass of orange juice, encouraging Joey to continue.

"Is his family really poor?" Joey asked. Living in a big house didn't seem like poverty, after all.

Samantha almost spat her juice out, covering her mouth to suppress a cough. Finally regaining composure, he explained, "His family isn't poor, but he is."

"Oh," Joey replied, sensing a deeper meaning in Samantha's laughter.

Following Samantha's instructions, Joey searched for Blake as soon as the morning exercises ended. He stood out in the crowd with his tall stature and fair skin. Catching up with him, she called, "Blake."

Several classmates passed by, casting curious glances their way. Blake didn't stop, so Joey had to jog alongside him.

From her pocket, Joey reluctantly pulled out five hundred dollars, neatly folded, and handed it over. "This is from Samantha's uncle," she explained, hoping to clear any misconceptions.

To her surprise, Blake's expression changed instantly. His usually stoic face flushed crimson—like a movie in slow motion, the color spread from his chin to his ears. Suddenly tossing the money back into Joey's hands, Blake left her bewildered.

"You don't want it? Aren't you short on cash?" Joey inquired, puzzled. She never expected Blake to blush; he always seemed indifferent, unmoved by anything.

Yet, no matter how much Joey pursued him to the classroom, Blake never turned back. Eventually, she gave up trying as his intimidating seatmate returned to his desk, forcing her retreat.

Intrigued by Blake's refusal connected to Samantha's uncle, Joey couldn't understand it.

Lunchtime arrived, and Joey was eating alone in the cafeteria when Blake approached with an irritable gaze. "Had a good look?" he grumbled. His distinct charm, even in the school's simple blue-and-white uniform, left her momentarily transfixed.

Embarrassed but eager to improve the mood, Joey attempted a compliment. "Your skin's so fair, even your blush looks nice."

Blake remained unfazed, escalating the awkward tension.

Awkwardly stirring her food, Joey hesitantly asked, "Did you need something from me?"

Blake's expression contorted slightly. "What did you say to Samantha?" he demanded, addressing her directly.

Unpleased, Joey clarified, "I showed him my notebook; he saw you charged me thrice the fare and wanted to pass on some money. I didn't badmouth you."

Grim-faced, Blake listened. The mention of Samantha inevitably triggered old memories. No one in the class knew about his elder brother Noah, who pursued physics at Ivy League, leaving behind only stories of their connection. Blake recalled gifting Noah a painting of the ocean, wishing him "A safe journey; may you disappear halfway." It was a jest met with a cunning return—a suggestion that Blake's allowance be revoked, preventing escape routes. Noah’s closest confidant? Kindhearted Samantha.

Blake wouldn’t accept Samantha’s money without verifying Noah's involvement.

Under his piercing gaze, Joey nervously stammered, "I really... didn’t badmouth you."

His disdainful glance left her unsettled as he promptly departed.

Unfazed by Blake's presence, Joey focused on exam preparations. The class atmosphere shifted with looming exams, transforming students into diligent, focused learners, silencing former playful banter.

The class rep used study periods to remind them about next semester's uniform fees, collected annually for both summer and winter sets. Joey noted this, planning to inform Samantha while mentioning Blake's refusal.

Unsurprised, Samantha anticipated Blake’s non-compliance. Curiously, Joey noticed Blake’s efforts to avoid her in the following days.

She recalled Jennifer's sarcastic advice, "Stay away from Blake—save money." Satisfied, Joey valued her seasoned desk mate’s wisdom.

Nevertheless, Jennifer faced her own challenges with uniform fees. While Joey was first to pay, the penniless Jennifer delayed. The class rep’s patience waned as she urged Jennifer to pay up.

Annoyed, Jennifer retorted, "I’ll pay soon. Why rush?"

Insulted, the class rep returned to her seat amidst Camille's clique. In the silence of study hall, whispers turned loud enough for all to hear, Camille taunting, “Some debts are harder to collect than unwanted taxes.”

Stifling laughter, Jennifer ignored her mockery. Faced with tightened fists and a stoic facade, she finally paid just in time, presenting a stack of neatly folded small denominations instead of crisp notes.

Overwhelmed with procedural mayhem, the class rep simply accepted the fees.

A week later, uniform distribution began. Names were called, students lined up to collect them. When everyone left, only Jennifer remained.

Joey had already left when Jennifer called her back upstairs. "Joey, come here!" She shouted, her voice choked with emotion.

Reluctant to keep Samantha waiting at the school gate, Joey hesitated.

“Please, come!” Jennifer's cry was desperate.

Inside the classroom, the class rep fumed while tears quietly pooled in Jennifer’s eyes, yet she refused to let them fall. Clutching Joey’s arm, she pleaded, “You saw me pay, right?”

Nodding, Joey faced the class rep’s accusations. “I have no record of you paying. She's just your seat mate, willing to vouch.”

Jennifer countered, insisting she paid in small bills—a claim Joey corroborated, suggesting a check of school accounts.

Agreeing to verify, they went to the finance office where records proved Jennifer correct.

Afterwards, ladened with her oversized uniform—needing personal adjustments—Jennifer voiced her dissatisfaction to the class rep. “Check facts before accusing.”

Embarrassed yet irked by Jennifer’s aloof superiority, the class rep retorted, “Maybe if you paid promptly, it wouldn’t happen.” She stormed off, her pride battered by Jennifer’s unyielding demeanor.

Resolutely, tears streaked unchecked down Jennifer’s face as she walked towards the exit, a proud lift in her chin.

Following her, Joey considered comforting words but opted for silence, apprehensive about further provoking Jennifer’s anguish.

After the ordeal, Jennifer initiated no further contact with Joey.