Part 2The Desk Mate Investment

Our school was an elite private school. Every year, for charity, they selected some outstanding students from ordinary schools with poor family backgrounds to enroll for free.

Although there was no concrete proof, everyone in the class guessed Liam was a scholarship student. Consequently, they were prejudiced against him and unwilling to talk to him.

Probably because his clothes were quite plain, and due to malnutrition, he was skinny as a monkey, about the same height as the girls.

My dad was a wealthy but uncultured man who admired smart people the most.

Influenced by him, I did too.

Plus, since I wasn't smart, I wouldn't look down on Liam, who was smarter than me.

On the first day sitting with Liam, he was very silent.

Being a chatterbox, I couldn't help but try to talk to him during evening self-study.

At first, he turned a deaf ear and ignored me.

Later, he realized I had stubbornly performed a monologue until the end of the session.

"Liam, which way are you going? Maybe we're going the same way."

He packed his books into his worn-out backpack, frowning at me:

"Bella, did you finish your questions?"

I froze:

"No."

"Can you do the questions seriously tomorrow?"

I was delighted. Was he preparing to help me improve my grades starting tomorrow?

"Yes!" I vowed.

The next evening self-study, I asked him while doing questions:

"Liam, do you think the noodles at the first stall in the cafeteria are good?"

"I feel like it's simply pig swill."

He suddenly turned his head, his gaze sharp.

"Can you be a bit more serious when doing questions?"

I realized then that he found me noisy.

So I tactfully shut my mouth.

Sigh, failing to improve and affecting others' studies.

I stared at the test paper for a long time and finally focused.

Question one... don't know how to do it.

I glanced at Liam several times and pushed the paper over.

"Liam..."

"What now?"

He replied impatiently, not even taking his eyes off his own paper.

"Nothing... just don't know how to do one question. It's okay, I'll study it more, won't disturb you."

I silently pulled back the paper.

A few seconds later, he sighed.

"Which question?"

There's hope!

I pushed the paper back again:

"Question one."

He pursed his lips:

"Maybe you should study it yourself."

"Oh come on, just help me."

Finally, he softened and compromised.