Chapter 163: Counterfeits?

But just as he was about to make his way to his seat, someone skidded to a halt in front of him, cutting him off like a traffic cone materializing out of nowhere.

It was Samuel —a skinny, hyper-energetic, self proclaimed fashion expert of the class. He was known for critiquing outfits the way food critics reviewed five-star meals—passionately, dramatically, and without mercy.

Rex blinked, and immediately took a cautious step back, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

 "What now?" he asked warily. Don't tell me you're here to accuse me too. I'm innocent, I swear!"

But Samuel didn't laugh at his dry joke like the others had been. His eyes weren't full of judgment or jealousy—no, they were zeroed in with laser-like precision… on Rex— no, not on Rex, in fact his eyes were locked on Rex's clothes.

He leaned in slightly, squinting like an appraiser examining a rare artifact. "Wait a minute…"