Maeve stood up slowly, looking fragile and wronged.

"Samantha, I'm sorry. This is my fault."

I didn't even look at her. I just kept packing my things, irritation building in my chest.

Blake hurried over to comfort her, then turned to me. "Don't blame her. I brought her here."

Maeve's gaze lingered on my stack of materials, something sharp flickering in her eyes.

"Samantha… Since you're not taking the exam this year, you won't need these anymore, right? My family can't afford these hardcover prep books. Could you give them to me? You're repeating the year, anyway. You can just buy new ones later."

She said it so naturally, as if everything I owned was already hers.

I looked at that innocent, harmless face of hers and let out a quiet, humorless laugh. I lifted the backpack stuffed with rare prep books and my handwritten notes.

"These are mine. Why should I give them to you?"

Right in front of them, I dumped everything into the trash can, not hesitating for a second.

Maeve's eyes instantly reddened. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she bit her lip, as if she had just been deeply humiliated.

"Samantha… How could you waste things like that? I only wanted to borrow them. If you don't want to give them to me, fine. Why embarrass me like this?"

Blake's expression darkened. He pulled Maeve behind him protectively.

"That's too far! Maeve's family doesn't have much. She just wanted to borrow your books. What gives you the right to treat her like that? You think having money makes you better than everyone? This is ridiculous!"

I looked at the two of them and suddenly felt like the whole thing was a joke.

"Yeah. I've got money, and I do think that makes me better than everyone. You got a problem with that?"

I shot Blake a cold glance.

"If you really think it's a waste, go dig them out of the trash for her."

I turned and walked out without another word. I went straight to the front counter on the first floor and tapped the desk.

"Hi, I'm ending the lease for the private room in the back corner upstairs."

The owner blinked, surprised. "But you paid for the whole year. If you cancel now, the deposit won't be refunded."

I pulled out the spare key and set it lightly on the counter. "That's fine. Keep the deposit. End it today. You can send someone up to clear out the trash."

He looked confused, but still handled the cancellation quickly.

By the time I got home, I hadn't even taken off my shoes when Blake called. The moment I answered, his voice came through, tight with anger.

"Samantha, what's your problem? Throwing your stuff away is one thing, but why did you cancel the room?"

He was breathing hard, as if he had been humiliated.

"Do you know how upset Maeve was when the owner came up and kicked us out? You weren't like this before! When did you get so cold and selfish?"

I held the phone away from my ear until he finished yelling, then said evenly, "Don't you think you're getting something wrong here? I paid for that room. If I want to cancel it, why would I need your permission?"

There was a pause on the other end. His tone softened, slipping back into the way he used to handle me.

"I know you're upset about staying back a year with me, but Maeve didn't do anything wrong. Taking it out on her isn't fair."

I let out a small laugh, my voice flat. "Don't think so highly of yourself."

Before he could respond, I hung up and blocked his number.

After that day, I stopped studying with Blake. I went straight to my teacher and requested time off from school.

I heard from classmates that Maeve would often bring a few basic questions to Blake during breaks. The two of them would sit close together, heads nearly touching, whispering and laughing like no one else was around.

Some classmates couldn't stand it and quietly reminded Blake to be mindful.

Blake, however, said it righteously, claiming he was just helping a disadvantaged student change her future.

On the day the SAT results came out, I was sitting in a lab at Whitford University.

A few close friends texted me, asking about my score. I told them directly that I had secured early admission and was already at Whitford University.

They all congratulated me.

Meanwhile, the class group chat had already blown up.

Blake scored a 1500, and Maeve got a 1490.

The cutoff score was lower this year, and their scores were just enough to get into Arrington University.

I saw Maeve post a selfie holding her admission letter. Blake's shoulder was deliberately visible in the background.

[Thanks to someone's sacrifice, Blake and I finally get to meet at the top of Arrington University! True love can overcome anything.]

I tapped like on her post, then put my phone away and went back to studying.

The atmosphere at Whitford University felt calm in a way I had never experienced before.

On the first day of classes at Arrington University, Blake showed up outside the building for repeat students, drawing a crowd.

"Wow, isn't that Blake? He got into Arrington University. He's so handsome!"

"Those flowers must be for Samantha. I heard she's repeating a year for him."

"I'm so jealous. Even if she didn't make it, she still has such an amazing boyfriend."

As Blake listened to the murmurs around him, he straightened his back, a faint, almost patronizing gentleness settling across his face.

He walked into the first repeat class and scanned every seat.

I wasn't there.

He went to the second class, then the third, even checking the humanities classes.

Still no sign of me.

Maeve stood beside him, frowning slightly, as if she was concerned. "Do you think Samantha's embarrassed, so she's avoiding us on purpose?"

Blake's expression darkened. He could feel his pride slipping.

He had picked this exact time, during the break, just to show off his so-called devotion in front of everyone. If I didn't show up, how was he supposed to keep this act going?

He stormed into the teachers' office, his voice edged with frustration.

"Mr. Knowles, which class is Samantha in? Did she take leave?"

Our former homeroom teacher, William Knowles, was grading papers. He looked up, his expression complicated.

Blake didn't notice. He kept talking.

"I came to bring her flowers. I also wanted to tell her that even though she has to repeat a year, I'll support her the whole time."

William let out a cold laugh, full of open mockery. "Did you hit your head or something?"

Blake froze, the bouquet trembling slightly in his hand. "Wh-what do you mean?"

William didn't answer. He pulled a notice from his drawer and tossed it onto the desk.

It was the official list of early admission students that the school had just received a few days ago.

"Samantha's already at Whitford University. She's the only student in the entire state who got in early."