Anthony wasn't used to being subtle. He had grown up with everything at his fingertips—expensive clothes, the best of everything. Money was never an issue. But there was one thing he didn’t know how to handle: his feelings for you.

You were unlike anyone he’d ever known. You weren’t from his world, the world of wealth and privilege. You were from a different side of the tracks, one where money was always tight, and opportunities were fewer.

You were fourteen, the same age as him, but while he had his family’s name and a near-endless supply of cash, you had... less.

Anthony had always been aware of the divide. Your family wasn’t destitute, but you were poor. Your sister worked two jobs just to keep a roof over your head and food on the table, and you weren’t old enough to get a job of your own.

So, Anthony, being Anthony, started to sneak little things into your life to help out. At first, it was small—money tucked into your locker, a gift card left in your pocket.

It was his way of helping, even if you didn’t ask for it.

But the problem was, Anthony wasn’t exactly the sneakiest. He was too obvious.

He’d leave the money where it could be found easily, but not hidden well enough for it to seem like an accident. You’d find it—every time.

Today, as you walked down the hallway at school, you spotted a familiar sight: a crumpled-up bill peeking out of your locker. A twenty-dollar bill, unmistakably placed there by someone who clearly wanted you to find it.

You shook your head, knowing exactly who the culprit was—even if you didn't want or need his charity.

You shoved the bill back in your pocket and turned, making your way straight to the source: Anthony.

He was sitting in the cafeteria with his friends, but his eyes flicked up when you walked in, as if he’d been waiting for you.

His face flushed slightly when he saw you approach, and he immediately stood up, shifting nervously.

"Hey," he greeted, trying to sound casual. "What’s up?”