Girl Meets Plus One || BOOK 2

We Meet Money

HISTORY CLASS

One dollar. One dollar is on every desk as we walked in. I yawned, already tired of the day.

"Hey! A dollar! They're finally paying us to come here," Maya grinned looking at her desk, "Dopes. I'd come here for nothing. You know why? I have to. Stupid law."

"Wait, everybody has one," Riley pointed out. I smelled the dollar on my desk, I don't know why I just did.

"No duh Riles," I shook my head before looking forward as our teacher walked in.

"So, what do you have there?" Mr. Matthews asked the class.

"It's a trap!" Maya shouted, "Everybody just hand your dollars to me, and I'll hold them is what I'll do. Yeah."

"Yeah, she'll sure hold em," I chuckled, "Out to the cashier."

"The United States government says that these pieces of paper are worth something. What makes them valuable?" he pointed to the boy in the desk behind Riley, "Farkle, do it."

"Paper money used to be certificates that you could exchange for their equal value in gold or silver. Before that, people would buy things with livestock, colored stones, or shiny objects."

"I like shiny objects," Riley said.

"Most people do Riley," I replied. Our teacher held up two t-shirts, both with the word 'bleh' on them, a dark olive green color.

"Which one of these shirts is better? Same size, same color, same shirt. One of these comes from Cheapo's and costs $12.99, the other one comes from Demolition and costs 36 bucks. So, which one's the better shirt? Riley?"

"Watch my little fashionista go," Maya said.

"The Bleh shirt on the left, though appearing to the untrained eye to look the same-" Riley started.

"It's the same shirt," I pointed out furrowing my eyebrows.

"Is not from Demolition, making it inferior."

"Same shirt," Matthews agreed with me.

"I will take the Demolition Bleh."

"You already did. This is your shirt. You spent 36 Washingtons on it."

"It costs more, so it's better."

I looked at the girl with shame, "It costs more, so it costs more you Maroon!" I huffed.

"Same exact shirt from the same exact manufacturer that sends it to a million different stores all over the world, Honey," I pointed out.

"Mine's better," Riley put the shirt to her cheek, "It feels good on my face."

"This is your shirt. I changed the labels this morning," Riley's lip started to quiver as she tossed the shirt aside.

"This shirt hurts my face! Give me that one. Mm. I know my shirt anywhere," the brunette paused, "That's my Demolition shirt, isn't it?"

"Why would I change the labels when I can just talk? Obviously, you people will believe anything."

"Mr. Matthews, are you teaching us that money has no real value?" Lucas asked.

"I'm teaching you that money is paper we put our faith in. Wars are fought over it. Most crime happens because money's involved. I'm teaching you that the value given to money is a lot less important than how it's used. That's what matters. That's what shapes who you are. Don't be mislead by trendy brands and shiny objects."

"So, what should we do with our money?" Farkle asked.

"Buy food," Lucas guessed.

"Have shelter," Maya added.