Falsely Accused, But I’m Sending the Bill Back

It was the first day of senior year when Nico Sives, our class heartthrob, flashed his signature smirk and tossed out a casual suggestion like it was no big deal.

“Hey, let’s set up a class fund,” he said, spinning a pen between his fingers. “River, you handle the money, yeah?”

I blinked. “Why me?”

Nico leaned back in his chair. “Come on, we’re all rich kids here. No one’s worried about money. You take care of the funds and whatever interest it racks up? It’s yours. Think of it as a little thank-you.”

Honestly, it sounded like troubles and risks. So I shook my head.