Clutching my bag, I walked back up to the driver.
“Sir,” I said timidly, “I forgot my pen. When we reach town… could we stop somewhere so I can buy one?”
He frowned, clearly displeased.
“Why are you so careless? Everyone else comes prepared. You, on the other hand, keep forgetting things.”
I dropped my head, lips trembling, on the verge of tears.
The driver sighed.
“Alright, alright. I’ll take you to buy them when we get there. But next time, make sure you’re prepared. If you forget anything else, I’m not helping you again. Got it?”
“Yes,” I whispered and returned to my seat.
The bus later stopped in front of a small roadside store, and the driver led me inside.
As I browsed the pens, I didn’t expect to see him.
Peter Sebastian—the class monitor—walked in.
Surprise flickered across his face the moment he saw me.
“Camila? What are you doing here?”
Caught off guard, I quickly hid the two dollars in my hand and walked up to him, embarrassed.
“I forgot my pen… Peter, could you lend me some money?”
Peter was known in our class as the “little rich guy.” He was smart, polite, and completely doted on by his family. His parents gave him more pocket money than he could ever spend.