I shook my head and quit that very day.
A few days later, they cornered me in the narrow alley behind the library.
Caroline Sawyer stood in the shadows, her expression thunderous.
Her opening words cut like glass.
"You quit?"
I pressed my lips together. Offered nothing.
She stared at me for a long moment, then a scornful smile curved her mouth.
"Daniel Joyce."
"You don't need to hide from me. I have zero interest in you."
"Do you honestly think I *want* to run into you?" A bitter laugh escaped her. "Don't be ridiculous."
She spun on her heel and marched away.
From that day on, true to her word, our paths didn't cross.
Not long after, my teacher informed me about a corporate sponsorship program for high-achieving students from low-income backgrounds.
I was on the list.
Full tuition waiver. Monthly living stipend. Staring at the string of zeros on the notification, my throat tightened. Finally—*finally*—I wouldn't have to starve myself just to squeeze in another part-time shift.
I threw myself into my studies.
Later, I heard the sponsoring company had organized a volunteer teaching trip. I signed up immediately, eager to pay it forward.