Julian Vance hated the idea of marrying a country bumpkin like me. So, to force me into breaking off the engagement, he hired a broke scholarship student to impersonate him. "A nouveau riche hillbilly and a guy who can't afford lunch? A match made in heaven." "I bet the bumpkin won't last three days before calling off the wedding." The scholarship student was tall, aloof, and visibly broken. A silent type. I fell for it. I genuinely believed the Vance family had gone bankrupt and that he was starving. My dad's words echoed in my ears: "Sweetie, if they're broke, they're broke. We don't discriminate. We have enough money to support him." So, when he was hungry, I fed him. When he worked late, I was his bodyguard. When his mom was hospitalized, I swiped my card. I took excellent care of my destitute fiancé. Until the day a stunningly handsome boy snatched the breakfast I had lovingly prepared. Just as I was about to explode, he looked at me with frustration. "Lily, open your eyes. I am your fiancé—" 1 My dad told me I had a fiancé in the city. To let me decide whether I wanted him or not—and to help me get into a good college—he transferred me to Julian Vance’s high school for my junior year. Rumor had it the Vance family was the richest in River City, with deep roots. My dad made me pack a ton of expensive gifts. But when I got off the train, not a single soul from the Vance family was there to pick me up. I was annoyed at first. But when I arrived at the school and saw "Julian"—thin, pale, wearing a t-shirt that had been washed until it was see-through—my anger vanished. A helpful student had guided me, looking at the photo in my hand. "Junior Class 3? You're looking for Julian Vance? I know him. I'll take you." He pointed him out. I followed his finger. The boy sitting by the window had a straight back, but he looked fragile. Afternoon sun filtered through the window, highlighting his profile. A stray breeze lifted his hair, revealing a smooth forehead and a sharp brow bone. I looked at the photo, then at him. The helpful student’s voice rang in my ear, dripping with pity: "You didn't know? The Vance family went bankrupt two years ago. Julian is on financial aid now. He works part-time after school. Sometimes he can't even afford lunch." My family rarely contacted the Vances, and bankruptcy isn't exactly something you advertise to your country relatives. I gasped softly, nodding like a bobblehead, promising not to spread the news. "This is our new student, Lily Lin. Everyone welcome her," the teacher announced, pointing to an empty desk. "You can sit there." I looked up. It was right next to "Julian." From the moment I walked in, he hadn't looked up once. He was furiously writing something. To get to my seat, I had to squeeze behind him. My backpack snagged on something. Clatter. A tin cup fell out of his desk, rolling on the floor. A piece of dry, hard bread tumbled out, picking up dust. I saw his shoulders tremble slightly. He gripped his pen tighter but didn't turn around. Stifled laughter erupted around us. I saw boys whispering and sneering at his back. So, Julian really was having a hard time. The spirited boy in the photo was now picking up scraps. I bit my lip, sat down, and whispered, "Sorry, I didn't mean to." He still didn't look at me. He just picked up the cup and bread and shoved them back into his desk. "I'm Lily. Do you remember me?" I tilted my head, trying to catch his eye. We had met once when he was six. Like my mom, I’m a sucker for a pretty face, and little Julian was adorable. I couldn't leave him alone. But then I took him to play with chickens, and a rooster pecked his butt. He never spoke to me again. At least he grew up handsome. My sudden closeness startled him. He leaned back, looking at me with lowered eyes. His eyes were beautiful, like obsidian. Long lashes shadowed his gaze, making him look less unapproachable. He stayed silent. I scratched my head. "I'm your fiancée. Ring a bell?" He was drinking water and choked. He coughed, trying to suppress the sound. I patted his back. When he recovered, he looked at me with a strange expression, his pale face flushed. Maybe he didn't remember. Or maybe bankruptcy changed him. Fine. We’d just start over as friends. I extended my hand. "Well, we're deskmates now. I'm Lily. Nice to meet you. By the way, can you do me a favor?" I expected silence, but he actually spoke. His voice was cold. "I don't have time." 2 Meanwhile, the helpful student who guided me sprinted to the stairwell where a group of rich kids were waiting. "Julian, it's done. That girl is dense," Tyler crowed to the handsome boy in the center. "She believed every word. I pointed out Caleb and told her the Vance family was broke and he couldn't afford food. Her jaw hit the floor." "She even saw Caleb's dry bread. Who wants a charity case like that?" "I bet you within three days, she'll run crying to her dad to call off the wedding." Julian Vance looked impatient. "Are you sure? Three days? She really bought it?" "I saw the photo she had. It was just a side profile. Looks enough like Caleb. I told her you changed your name to dodge debt collectors. She ate it up." "If you run into her, just say you have the same name. She won't suspect a thing." Julian relaxed, leaning back. "A nouveau riche hillbilly. Who does arranged marriages anymore?" "Exactly. The Vances are old money. Your brother married an heiress. Why are you stuck with a village girl?" "My mom's been on a hunger strike over this for days. But my dad listens to Grandpa, and Grandpa is obsessed with honoring some promise to his old war buddy." "But hey," Tyler added, "that fiancée of yours..." Julian shot him a glare. "She's actually pretty cute," Tyler muttered. "I took a pic. Wanna see? Maybe she's your type." Julian scoffed. "Are you sick? My standards aren't that low." Tyler scratched his head. "Seriously, she's prettier than the school beauty queen." 3 I knew none of this. My eyes were fixed on Caleb. Or, as I knew him, "Julian." He said his name was Caleb, and everyone called him that. The Vance family really did change his name to hide from debt. I spent the whole day trying to talk to him. He rarely responded. But I’m a chatterbox. I take after my dad, who can talk to a brick wall for hours. Plus, I make friends easily. "Hey, what's good to eat in River City? I'm new here." "Do you live on campus or at home?" "Why is this topic taught differently here than in my town?" "Where's the water fountain? I'm dying of thirst." Finally, Caleb couldn't take it anymore. "Focus on the lesson." After a pause, he added, "Water fountain is by Class 4. Go after class." By the time class ended, I forgot about the water. I called my dad immediately to tell him about the Vance bankruptcy. "What? Really?" Dad sounded shocked. "It's okay, sweetie. If they're broke, they're broke. We don't discriminate. Humanity shows itself in tough times. If you like the kid, we'll just support him." I nodded. Not that I liked him like that yet. But Caleb was pitiful. I had nothing but money. And he needed money. My family got rich the year I was born. My dad jumped on real estate reform in '98, bought old grain depots, developed new districts in 2005, and invested in tech without understanding a lick of it. He just knew how to spend. Compared to the generational wealth of the Vances, we were definitely "nouveau riche." But being nouveau riche meant my dad handed me credit cards like they were tissues. I could have bought the KTV where Caleb worked, but I didn't. I stalked Caleb for days to find out where he worked. Night-shift Caleb was different. Messier hair, casual clothes. When he saw me, his brows knitted together tight. "Who let you in here?" He dragged me to the stairwell. "Why are you at a KTV?" I pulled a sandwich from my bag and shoved it into his hand. Caleb froze. "Eat," I urged. "I bought too much. It expires tonight. I can't eat it, and wasting food is bad. Help me out." I found out Caleb worked three jobs. Flyer distribution, a fried noodle stall, then the KTV. He sold noodles for $7 but never ate them himself. He survived on dry buns or leftover snacks from KTV guests. My classmates warned me to stay away from him. They said he was weird, gloomy, and antisocial. They said his mom had uremia and his sister was disabled. So Mrs. Vance was sick? I couldn't ask him. I didn't want to hurt his pride. "Why?" Caleb looked down at the sandwich. "Why what? We're deskmates. And you helped me with math today." I nodded firmly. "My dad said if I don't get into a good college, he'll break my legs. Caleb, this is bribery. The sandwich isn't free. You have to keep tutoring me." I saw his math score today. 149 out of 150. Genius. He pursed his lips. "You don't think I'm dirty?" "What? No!" I leaned in and sniffed him dramatically. "Your clothes smell like soap. It's nice. Look at my sleeve..." I held up my arm. "Way dirtier than yours. Do you think I'm dirty?" In the dim light, Caleb looked up. His eyes shone like stars. He shook his head. "Exactly. I'm your fian—" I stopped myself just in time. 4 Caleb clocked out ten minutes early to walk me home. He slipped a notebook into my bag. My dad bought a villa in the posh Clear Creek district before I arrived. Since Mom died, he's been overprotective. He hired a housekeeper to look after me. As we approached the villa district, I swerved toward the cheaper apartments nearby. If he saw the villas, he might feel bad about his bankruptcy. "Here!" I pointed at a random building. "You go home too." Caleb looked up at the building, then patted my head. "See you tomorrow, deskmate." If anyone knew Caleb, they'd say he looked like a paper doll coming to life. Less dead, more hopeful. Once he was gone, I sprinted back to the villas. I rounded the corner to my house and almost crashed into someone. A hand steadied me. I looked up. A handsome, refined face. Weirdly familiar. He looked a bit like Caleb. But why did he look so dumbstruck? I waved my hand in front of his face. "Hey, I'm fine. You can let go." He blinked and released me. "Sorry." I nodded and kept walking. "You go to First High too..." he called out. But my puppy, Bean, ran out to greet me. I forgot the stranger instantly. Julian stood there, watching the girl run off with her dog. He checked the group chat. "Does anyone know a girl at our school? Long hair, big eyes, tall, mole on her nose?" "What's this? Love at first sight?" "No way. Julian's standards are too high." Julian stared at the screen. "Shut up. Just tell me if you've seen her." "Hair, eyes, height... sure. But that specific combo? No idea." "I'll scout for you tomorrow. If she's at First High, I'll find her." Julian typed lazily: "Find her, and you'll be rewarded." He was confident. He always got what he wanted.
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