Part 3Bidding on My Homework

Two weeks into the semester, I was practically invisible. Every day, I shrank into the corner of the classroom, working hard on practice tests and studying.

Gradually, the teachers began to appreciate me more and more.

Because I was the only person in class actually paying attention.

Not only did I listen carefully, but I also occasionally raised my hand to answer their questions so they wouldn't feel awkward talking to a silent room.

But my concentration was slipping more and more.

I was starving.

So hungry I wanted to gnaw on the desk.

Although my tuition was fully covered, I still needed a place to live.

The Dean had strictly refused to let me live in the dorms, saying my background was too poor and the rich kids wouldn't accept it.

I had no choice but to rent a place off-campus.

Rent was unbelievably expensive.

After begging and pleading, the landlord reluctantly agreed to take six months' rent upfront.

My $10,000 scholarship instantly shrank to $500.

In a city where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold, I could only afford a tiny attic in a remote suburb.

After paying $500 for utilities, I was broke.

With my current grades, I couldn't guarantee getting into an Ivy League school, so I didn't dare ask the Dean for another advance on my scholarship.

Because of my terrible living situation, my study time was compressed to almost nothing. Despite my desperate efforts to catch up, my scores on the last junior year finals were only good enough for a decent state university.

I didn't miraculously transform into a protagonist from a teen movie, easily getting a perfect score while juggling a romance and barely studying.

My stomach hadn't seen food in over eight hours.

My breakfast today had been a piece of seared steak and half a tuna sandwich I dug out of the school trash can.

It was delicious, but the portion was tiny.

I pursed my lips and looked up at my classmates, who were getting ready to leave for the day.

They were discussing where to play golf or whether to take a yacht out for a party.

I pinched myself hard, gathered every ounce of courage I had, and asked timidly:

"Does anyone... does anyone need their homework done? One assignment... just five dollars."