I'm the designated "poor kid" in my class. That part's true. But I'm on federal student loans, and I have a work-study job. Not only do I have enough to cover my expenses, but I can even put a little aside each month. Jessica, my roommate, had just been elected class president when she proposed a class-wide fundraiser for me. “Daniella is the only student in our class facing financial hardship. It’s our duty to extend a helping hand!” Her announcement left our classmates stunned. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Just as I was about to refuse, a few strange lines of text flickered in front of my eyes: [Classic plot point incoming! The kind-hearted female lead tries to help, only to be misunderstood by the insecure side character. A big fight is about to break out!] [Once it blows up, the gentle heroine will be all teary-eyed and heartbroken, and that’s the cue for the hot, domineering male lead to swoop in and save the day!] [I am so ready for the romance to start! C’mon, side character, have your meltdown already!] 1 I blinked, completely baffled. What kind of brain-dead garbage was this? If I didn't want it, I'd just say no. There was no need for a dramatic scene. But the moment the word "No" left my lips, Jessica cut me off. “Daniella, I know you have your pride! But you can’t let it get in the way of your life. You’re coming back right at curfew every single night. You’re spending less than fifteen dollars a day on food. Your underwear is washed so thin it’s practically see-through, and your pajamas have holes in them… You can’t go on like this. It’s bound to affect your studies, and that will drag down the entire class’s average. So, for everyone's sake, from now on, we’re covering your living expenses.” As she spoke, she pulled out a crisp twenty-dollar bill and shoved it into my hand. “Take it. You don’t have to pay it back! Just focus on your studies!” But even after stuffing the money into my palm, she didn't let go. She held me in that awkward position, her eyes wide with expectation. The other students started sizing me up, their whispers turning into gasps. “Coming back so late every night… is that even a legit part-time job?” “Seriously? Fifteen bucks wouldn't even cover my lunch. She must be scamming the cafeteria or something.” “People still wear clothes with holes in them? You don't think she's doing it for attention, do you?” I almost laughed out of sheer anger. We’d known each other for a few weeks, and she was already airing all my private business to the entire class. And for what? A measly twenty bucks? She was seriously holding onto my hand, expecting me to burst into grateful tears for her little performance? And what was wrong with these other students? Were they stupid or just blind? Just as a string of curses was about to erupt from my mouth, the comments popped up again. [The heroine has done so much! Why isn't the side character flipping out yet? If she doesn't make a scene, when will the male lead make his grand entrance?] [What’s wrong with her? Someone gives you money and you can't even say thank you? No wonder she gets ostracized by everyone later, becomes depressed, and jumps off a building.] [Serves her right! If she wasn't so ungrateful, the heroine wouldn't have been so hurt. But hey, it gives the male lead a chance to comfort her. At least she's useful for heating up their romance!] The insults I was about to hurl died on my tongue. As crazy as those comments sounded, I was only eighteen. My life was just beginning, and I had no intention of dying. So, I took a deep breath, yanked my hand free from Jessica’s grip, and pushed the twenty-dollar bill back at her. “Thanks, Jessica. But I don’t need it.” Her face fell instantly. “I told you, you don’t have to pay it back! This is easier money than whatever you’re doing. Stop penny-pinching and walking around in rags. It’s embarrassing for us to even be seen with you!” Someone else chimed in. “Yeah, seriously. Don’t make us all look bad. Here, I'll chip in fifteen to cover your meals for a day!” “I’ve got five! We can crowdfund you some new underwear!” A few crumpled bills fluttered through the air, landing at my feet. The comments went wild. The screen was flooded with a single demand: [FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!] But in the midst of the chaos, a strange calm washed over me. After all, arguing with idiots only hurts yourself. So, I called for backup. 2 The classroom was buzzing with chaos when our academic advisor, Mr. Glazer, burst in, slightly out of breath. “What is going on in here?” The room fell silent. Students exchanged nervous glances, but no one spoke. That’s when Jessica stepped forward, her face beaming as if expecting a reward. “Mr. Glazer, I was just organizing a fundraiser for Daniella!” Mr. Glazer pointed at the money scattered on the floor. “This is how you fundraise?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. I seized the opportunity. “Mr. Glazer, I told her I didn’t need it, but the class president insisted. She also exposed my personal information to everyone.” I then pointed out every student who had made a comment. “And they joined in, slandering me in front of the whole class.” To top it off, I presented the video I had been recording on my phone. Mr. Glazer’s face hardened as he watched it. He turned to the group, his disappointment palpable. “Is this how you help a fellow student? All of you, apologize to Daniella right now!” But Jessica’s expression turned even uglier. “Sir, Daniella is a scholarship student who is so focused on saving and making money that she’s neglecting her studies. I was doing this for her own good—for the good of the entire class! I did nothing wrong!” The other students she’d incited just stood there, stubbornly refusing to back down. Seeing this, I decided to lay it all out. “I work in the cafeteria during breakfast and dinner, so my meals are covered. The only meal I pay for is lunch, and fifteen dollars is more than enough. I have a work-study job at the library in the evenings. It closes at ten, and I’m back in my dorm by ten-thirty. As for money, you really don’t need to worry about me. From Monday to Friday, I work my campus job, eight hours total, at fifteen dollars an hour. On weekends, I tutor for eight hours at fifty dollars an hour. It’s enough to live on. And as for my studies… I had the highest entrance exam scores in our year. What, exactly, made you think I was dragging the class down?” The moment I finished, a student gasped. “Holy crap, that’s over five hundred a week! That’s triple my allowance!” A hush fell over the classroom. A few students shuffled their feet, mumbling apologies as they sheepishly picked their money up off the floor. Only Jessica remained, clutching her twenty-dollar bill, her face a mask of wounded pride. Tears welled in her eyes as she yelled at me, “If you’re not broke, why did you apply for financial aid and pretend to be poor? You made me think you needed help! You just wanted to humiliate all of us for trying to be kind! Fine! It’s all my fault! Are you happy now?” Her outburst brought the floating comments back. But this time, they seemed to echo my own confusion. […] [Wait, what kind of plot twist is this? Wasn’t the side character supposed to have a breakdown and get kicked out of class?] [Well… it’s not a total loss. I guess you could call this a scene, and the heroine is definitely upset, right?] [That side character is so manipulative! She pretended to be poor just to mess with the heroine! Ugh, I wish she would just die already!] [Exactly! How dare she bully our girl like this! Where is the male lead? I can’t take this anymore!] The rest of the comments were a torrent of curses directed at me. Then, a few students started speaking up in Jessica’s defense. “Sir, you can’t blame Jessica for this. She was just trying to be nice!” “Yeah, if anyone’s at fault, it’s Daniella! She should have been upfront about her situation instead of causing this whole misunderstanding. How is she the one acting all high and mighty?” “He’s right! If she doesn’t need the money, why is she on financial aid? Sir, I think you should revoke her scholarship status!” 3 Jessica said nothing more, maintaining her tear-streaked, victimized expression as she looked between me and Mr. Glazer. Mr. Glazer hesitated. He lowered his voice, trying to placate me. “Let’s not let this escalate between classmates. How about we just drop it for today? I’ll talk to everyone individually later.” But I wasn't having it. Why should I be the one to back down just because she was crying? Did having more people on your side automatically make you right? Not a chance. I walked straight to the front of the classroom, stood at the lectern, and switched on the microphone. “Real kindness is about what the other person actually needs and wants, not about making yourself feel good. Jessica didn't know my real situation. She just spied on my daily life and jumped to her own conclusions. She didn’t consult me, and she didn’t respect my wishes. She organized this so-called fundraiser, which was nothing more than a public humiliation. If any of you think what she did was okay, then go ahead. Pick up the money on the floor, and go thank her one by one. If even one of you can do that, I’ll apologize to all of you.” No one moved. Many of them hung their heads in shame. I pressed on. “Being a student on financial aid just means I started from a different place. It doesn't make me less than anyone else. As long as we’re willing to work, we can manage just fine. And for the record, I’m on a student loan—money that I have to pay back—not a grant. I suggest we reconsider Jessica’s position as class president. And a word of advice for everyone else: spend more time with your books and less time caught up in drama with idiots.” After I finished, Mr. Glazer spoke up, his voice firm. “Daniella is right. You all need to focus more on your studies. If you have a problem, talk to a teacher. To have this kind of incident on the very first day of choosing a class president… we definitely need to hold a new election.” At his words, the faces of the other students fell. Jessica let out a loud sob and ran out of the classroom. Mr. Glazer sighed, made the few remaining students apologize again, and said he would talk to Jessica privately. I didn't push it further. My shift was about to start. Arguing with them wasn't nearly as important as earning a living. But when I got to the library, someone blocked my path in the main hall. He was handsome enough, but the moment he opened his mouth, he sounded like some cringey YA protagonist. “A student has filed a complaint that you falsified your financial aid information to take a work-study position. You need to go explain yourself to the library director. You're not welcome here anymore.” Just then, the comments flickered back to life. [Aaaah! The hot male lead is here! The heroine sheds a few tears, and he immediately kicks the side character to the curb!] [The side character was so proud of earning her own money. Let’s see how cocky she is now!] [Wait… isn’t he being a little unreasonable? He’s the Student Council President, not the campus police, right?] [Get out of here with that logic! We’re here for the swoon-worthy romance, not a courtroom drama!] [Exactly! I live for seeing the male lead go crazy for the heroine and burn the world down for her!] Right. Now I knew what I was dealing with. I couldn’t help but think to myself: If these two are the main characters, this world is probably screwed. But this wasn't the time to worry about the fate of the world. His loud declaration had drawn the attention of several people nearby. They were keeping their voices down, as required in a library, but they were whispering furiously and tapping away on their phones. They were spreading rumors, no doubt. To stop my reputation from being completely shredded, I decided to face him head-on. 4 “And you are?” “Blake Crawford, Student Council President.” He puffed out his chest, his face glowing with pride. I scoffed. What a big shot, sticking his nose where it didn't belong. “First, the Student Council has no authority over the work-study program. Second, my application was approved by the university administration. What evidence do you have that I falsified anything? If you don’t have any, then you’re slandering me in a public place.” Blake sidestepped the question. “It is every student’s duty to uphold the integrity of our campus! A complaint has been made, and it needs to be investigated. You should be confessing and cooperating, not causing a scene here!” Seeing that logic was useless with him, I stopped arguing and made a beeline for the library director’s office. “Daniella, you faked your records to steal a spot from someone who needs it! I’m telling you to leave, why are you going to my superiors? Get back here! Stop disturbing the other students!” he yelled, chasing after me. His shouting made everyone in the library turn and stare. I didn’t stop. I burst into the director’s office and said, “Director, this student is causing a major disturbance in the library and is trying to have me fired from my job!” The director looked startled, his gaze shifting from me to the young man who had followed me in. “Blake, is this true?” Blake quickly tried to explain himself. “A student filed a complaint. I was worried about the potential scandal, so I thought it would be best for Daniella to go home until the investigation is complete.” “Do you have any actual evidence?” the director asked, echoing my question. “Well… it was an anonymous, verbal complaint.” “Hah!” I let out a sharp laugh. “According to university regulations, anonymous complaints without concrete evidence are not considered valid. Blake, I have reason to believe you are deliberately targeting me.” “We don’t even know each other. Why would I target you? I’m acting in the best interests of the university!” he denied, but his shifty eyes gave him away. The director, pretending not to notice, tried to smooth things over. “Blake was probably just misled. It was all for the good of the university! Daniella, you can go back to your work now.” But I wasn't letting it go.
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