A donation box was placed before me, and my hand was outstretched as I made to drop a bank card inside.
One of the people watching me mocked, “My, my! Look at you, Thalia Stoneridge. Everyone else donated cash, but you’re putting a bank card inside. Don’t think Jonathan will get together with you just because you’re donating more than the others!”
“Exactly! Jon’s not interested in your stupid money!” someone else said.
I returned to my senses and looked at my bank card. Then, I retracted my hand and put the card back in my pocket. “Well, alright. Since you guys think my money is stupid, I won’t donate anything. I don’t want to dirty everything else inside the box.”
The people who’d mocked me were Jonathan Pickle’s friends. Their expressions stiffened at my words. It seemed they hadn’t expected me to change my mind about the donation.
Jonathan came from a poor family, and his mother, Connie Johnson, was chronically ill. Everyone in school knew about his family situation. So, the teachers had organized a donation to help him collect some funds.
In my past life, I was nothing but a rich airhead. I’d saved 100,000 dollars in two years and donated it all to Jonathan. My bank card had stood out among the notes in the donation box.
When word got out about how much I’d donated, some people said I was a hopeless romantic, and some said I’d lost my mind because of Jonathan. Some people were also envious of me for being so generous. Jonathan’s friends were the only ones who’d insulted me, saying that I was using money to insult him.
If so, I wouldn’t make the same mistake this time. I wouldn’t “insult” him anymore.
However, as I turned to leave, a familiar voice rang out, “This is supposed to be a charity drive. How can you just not do anything?”
It was Henrietta Quill!
In my past life, she’d been one of the causes of my death. She’d shamelessly shown up at my house to brag about being pregnant.
When I saw her again, hatred surged in me. Although her face was cute and innocent, her heart was jet-black. She and Jonathan were on good terms, perhaps because they had similar family backgrounds.
I suppressed my anger and said, “It’s up to me whether I want to make any donations. Besides, these people told me not to donate because my money is stupid. Why are you getting upset when I’m just doing as told?”
Henrietta’s face turned red with anger. She retorted, “You started it! You’re the one who insulted Jonathan with your money!”
“Uh-huh.” I spread my hands. “That’s why I’m taking it back. I won’t insult him anymore. Are you happy now?”
Everyone on campus knew about me pursuing Jonathan since my freshman year. The sudden change in my attitude made the atmosphere turn awkward.
Henrietta was taken aback by my words. Then, she said knowingly, “Oh, I get it now. You’re worried about embarrassing him by giving the card to him in public, right? You can just give it to him privately, then.”
I glanced at Jonathan, who stood to one side. His gaze was unfocused—it was as if he had nothing to do with what was happening.
That was how he’d been in my past life, too. He’d always been a silent watcher, and he’d always looked so aloof and arrogant.
