"I had my housekeeper make congee for you. You need to eat something. I knew you'd be hiding somewhere, beating yourself up over this." She'd squeezed my hand. "It's okay. One bad exam doesn't define you. There's always next time. I'll tutor you myself—and we'll get into the same university together..."
But the moment Roger transferred in, everything changed.
I took a deep breath and unclenched my fists.
Ignoring their laughter, I gathered my things and slung my bag over my shoulder.
"You're right. Since that's how it is, have fun tonight."
I didn't explode the way they expected. I didn't cry.
Their laughter died in their throats, the sport suddenly gone out of their mockery.
Someone shrugged and turned back to the group, enthusiasm rekindled. "Let's do the fruit wine—only three percent alcohol. Definitely won't affect the exam."
I let out a quiet scoff.
One glass of that bar's fruit wine could flatten a grown adult. Dad's hospital regularly admitted people with alcohol poisoning from that exact place.
In my past life, that was precisely why I'd begged them not to go.
But this time? I wasn't going to stop anyone.
I shouldered my bag and headed for the door.