Chapter 217.<h4><b><strong>Chapter 217. Valentine’s Day: </strong></b><b>Afternoon. (3/7)</b></h4>
<span style="font-weight:400">When I heard about his volunteer work, all sorts of unpleasant memories resurfaced as I recalled my own final year of high school. I’d done some simr bullshit as part of the school’s internship program that hooked you up with volunteer positions. I didn’t bother with sports like him though. If I did, I’d have definitely died of over-exhaustion.
<span style="font-weight:400">I had to walk around the hospital through all the designated wards pushing a book cart with a selection of books and magazines patients could read during their stay. I was also responsible for stocking up all the waiting rooms with magazines. Another responsibility of mine was sorting and putting awayrge boxes of donated books and magazines whenever they came in. It was exhausting.
<span style="font-weight:400">Ironically enough, in my third year of high school, I also volunteered as a tutor at some center downtown that catered to indigenous children and children with special needs. This volunteer position was one I got on my own after searching online without the school’s rmendation.
<span style="font-weight:400">I had the spare time to do this only because I’d finished all of my essential and elective courses required to graduate from high school early in only two years.
<span style="font-weight:400">In my final year of high school, I took three AP courses, so I had some breathing room to do other things. AP Calculus, Chemistry, and Biology. They were internationally redited courses that any university would recognize.
<span style="font-weight:400">Though, AP Biology was hell for me. I was awful at memorization as a person whose strongest field was math, but I somehow made it through. They were year-long courses and I had them back to back for my first three periods in my final year.
<span style="font-weight:400">As for why I took them… it was all about the money. I heard ‘free university credits’ and I was immediately on board. I got 5’s on the final exams, the highest grade you could achieve, and got some easy A+ grades at university saving a good sum of money in the process. That was what I was the happiest about, saving that money, rather than the grade I got.
<span style="font-weight:400">The extra time I had after my morning sses was where I fit my volunteer work in and studied like crazy for biology in specific. I was able to leave the school very early since I didn’t have any afternoon sses which was nice.
<span style="font-weight:400">Everything I did was for show though, just to pad my resume. I never had any noble intentions with my actions, I simply wished to create the illusion of some sort of good person. My surface appearance would just appear to be good to any potential future employers.
<span style="font-weight:400">About a year into university though, I had to stop volunteering. Working while in university by itself with a maxed-out course load was just too much by that point. I was so exhausted every day I could hardly move when I got home. I’d ckout on my bed when I got home. and the next thing I knew, my rm would be ringing in the morning for me to catch the bus for university.
<span style="font-weight:400">I didn’t even have time to eat on many days.
<span style="font-weight:400">As such, I’d <b>definitely</b><span style="font-weight:400"> never go through that hell again. It all turned out to be useless for me anyway. Everyone could easily see through the hollow shell of a person I was no matter how hard I tried to maintain that stiff fake business smile I practiced in the mirror. Why would I go through all of that hell again?
<span style="font-weight:400">It was truly infuriating. All because of connections. The people you knew. That was all that ever mattered. The one thing I was the absolute worst at. I did everything alone, <b>always</b><span style="font-weight:400">.
<span style="font-weight:400">Everyone would bber on and on about <b>teamwork</b><span style="font-weight:400"> and <b>leadership</b><span style="font-weight:400">, yet people would always find that one person in a group to <b>dump</b> <b>everything</b> <b>on</b><span style="font-weight:400">.
<span style="font-weight:400">I felt furious just remembering it. That was what happened when you ended up in forced groups with the lone stragglers, the dregs, in university because you made no reliable friends. You might find yourself with some shitty unreliable group leader who can’t lead and you’d end up having to pick up the ck for everyone else who didn’t take anything seriously. I wasn’t the type who liked to lead, I preferred blending into the background and diligently getting my own work done.
<span style="font-weight:400">But those people? They didn’t want to work or try at all. Many of them had their futures already lined up for them.
<span style="font-weight:400">They had parents, family, and friends to support them. They were the types who were only in university to pass the time and didn’t particrly care about anything. They would simply leave all the difficult things to other people to deal with. They were the smart ones and I was an idiot for trying so hard back then. No, they were also just born luckier than I was. Their starting point was so much higher up than my own.
<span style="font-weight:400">They’d been born and raised in sheltered environments where they had copious amounts of freedom to live as they pleased. They didn’t need to struggle endlessly all alone every single day to survive. It was just my own misfortune for being born in the environment I was in. That was all there was to it.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Hey. Hey! HEY! Are you listening to me?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Huh? Sorry, what?” I was dragged back to reality by the goth girl who still had me in a headlock.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What? You didn’t hear anything I just said?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“You said something? When?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Are you kidding me? Have I been talking to a brick wall this entire time?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah, you have.” I’d filtered everything else out because of all the unpleasant memories that resurfaced out of the blue.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Haaaaaah. I won’t bother repeating my rant about you being the stupid one. You’ll probably just zone out again and not listen. A-ny-way, you’re sure he would like a muscle massager gun?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah. Definitely.” I know I would have loved one back then, but they could be damn expensive unless you got them on clearance. I wasn’t willing to fork out the money for it.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Hey, aren’t there any cheaper ones?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Huh? There are but they’re typically shitpared to this. This one''s clearance, the normal price is $200. Getting it for $70 is a steal. Don’t y cheap. Just go home and get some more money.” Though it was too expensive for my blood. I believed it should be something this high maintenance goth girl could handle.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Uh… that is… a bit difficult. By the time I get home and get back here, it will be pretty close to closing.”
<span style="font-weight:400">I checked my watch. It seems I’d spent quite some time aimlessly wandering around the mall.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Bullshit, even though it’s Sunday, there’s still two hours until it closes.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Okay! I just don’t want to waste extra money on the bus fare or taking a taxi. I don’t have a bus pass. Half of the reason I got breakfast this morning and bumped into you was to break a bill to get some change for the bus fare back. I never anticipated I’d need to spend this much on something for the guy I like today.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh. I see. Tough luck though. That’s not my problem, suck it up and make the sacrifice if you really care about that guy you like so much.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s not my only concern, you idiot. Look, it says on their website there’s only one left in stock. What if someone buys it before I get back? We have to hurry!”
<span style="font-weight:400">I checked the remaining stock on my phone and verified it did indicate there was only one remaining.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That still has nothing to do with me. All of these concerns are your problem, not mine.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Loan me the money, I’ll pay you right back, I promise.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Absolutely not. There is no chance I’m loaning money to someone who scammed me out of $10.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ugh. Come o-”
<span style="font-weight:400">“You’re also aplete stranger, why would I loan money to a stranger I’ll likely never see again after this? I’d be a fool to think I’d ever see that money again. Do you think I’ll loan you money just because you’re a girl? Because you think you’re attractive or something? Well sorry, I’m not some dumbass who’d shower you with money just because you try to ask nicely. So spare me the ‘pretty please’ bullshit you were about to pull.”
<span style="font-weight:400">She took another heavy blow to her pride when I urately predicted her next move.
<span style="font-weight:400">“How about I pay you with a kiss or something?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I have a girlfriend, I have no interest in cheating.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“What? For real? You weren’t just making stuff up? An awful guy like you has a girlfriend? Hey, your girlfriend wouldn’t happen to be blind and deaf or something, would she?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“No, she can see me just fine.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I see… she must be pretty desperate then.”