The Scholarship Girl & The Rich Young Master

ounter was almost empty. Two pills left. My weekend job at Mama's T bakery in Downtown pays me $14 an hour every Saturday. That money buys her medicine and groceries for Sunday. But today, no ba

ened the Band-Aid so carefully and put it on my two knuckles. His fingers were warm. So gentle, like he was touching something fragile. "Better?" he asked. "A little," I said. He nodded and went back to his side. Another 20 minutes went by. Then my stomach made the loudest sound ever. Like a whale. I hadn't eaten breakfast. I had no appetite this morning and no money for the cafe. Jace heard it. He looked up and smiled, but not in a mean way. A soft, small smile. "Hungry?" he asked. "No," I lied again. Second lie today. He unwrapped one sandwich. Sourdough, grilled chicken, avocado, arugula. Very LA, very expensive. "My aunt made it," he said. "She made two. I thought you might not eat breakfast. Because... you work Saturday mornings and today you couldn't. You told Principal that yesterday." He remembered. I told Principal about the bakery in the office yesterday, and he actually listened. "I can't take your food," I said. "It's extra. If you don't eat it, it's going to go bad. And Henderson locked us in, you can't go buy anything." My stomach growled again, even louder this time. Traitor. He put the sandwich on the table near me, not in my hand, so I could choose. Then he said, "I'm going to go do the Physics section," and walked away to give me privacy. I stared at it for ten seconds. Then I grabbed it. I was too hungry for pride. First bite. It was the best sandwich I'd ever had. Soft bread, juicy chicken. Not like the day-old bread rolls Rosie lets me take home. I ate fast, like I was embarrassed, hiding behind the bookshelf. He pretended not to see. He started making extra noise on the other side, pulling books loudly, so I wouldn't feel shy. When I finished half, I said, "Thank you." He turned around. "You like it?" "Yes. It's really good." "My aunt will be happy. She said scholarship kids don't like organic stuff. I told her you're not like that." I smiled. My first real smile since yesterday. We kept working. But the air felt lighter now. At 10 AM, we'd done half the library. Dust was all over our uniforms. My white shirt was now gray. His designer shirt was also gray. The Young Master of Rosewood covered in dust. We sat on the floor to rest, backs against opposite shelves. "Why did you cancel the bet?" I asked suddenly. The question had been burning in my chest since yesterday in the Principal's office. He looked up at the high library ceiling with the big glass windows. "Because I was tired of being Jace Carter," he said. "The kid whose dad owns half of Malibu and donated the new science wing. Everyone at Rosewood thinks I have everything. Money, cars, house in the Hills, house in Aspen. Girls like Madison and Lauren follow me because of that. Guys like Tyler follow me because of that. But no one ever tells me no. No one ever threw my basketball over the fence into the parking lot. You did. You looked at me like I was just... a normal guy who did something dumb. Not the Young Master. Just a guy." He was quiet for a second. "And when Tyler stepped on your book, you didn't cry. You fought back. You reminded me of my mom. She used to fight for small things too." "Your mom?" I whispered. "She died when I was 10. Car accident on the 405. After she died, my dad started donating to Rosewood, building courts and libraries, so people would respect u