"A little trash-picker paired with an ugly monster—they're perfect for each other!"
Back then, my adoptive grandmother was still alive and she raised me by collecting trash.
To help ease my grandmother's burden, I would often rummage through trash bins after school to collect bottles for her. Because of that, my classmates looked down on me, whispering that I smelled bad. So, from the very first day of high school, I’d always sat alone at my desk.
The teacher who knew about my situation harshly scolded anyone who mocked me.
Bottlenecks probably could be sealed, but human hearts remained untamed.
Behind my back, they nicknamed me "Little Ragpicker."
Ignoring their mockery, I gripped my shirt hem nervously and asked John. "John, would you be willing to be my deskmate?"
I was terrified he'd think I smelled too. But to my surprise, John nodded firmly. "As long as you're not afraid of me, I'd be happy to!"
After that, we started spending more time together.
I soon discovered how brilliant he was; he always ranked first in our grade.
He'd help me with my studies and I'd thank him with the chicken wraps my grandmother made.