Clark Karsov had developed a system. It was efficient. Necessary. And, unfortunately, well known across campus. “I’m sorry,” he said for what had to be the third time that week. “I don’t accept gifts.” The sophomore standing in front of him looked crestfallen, still holding out a neatly wrapped box. “I… it’s just chocolates.” “I know.” Clark offered a polite smile. “And they’re thoughtful.” The student brightened for exactly half a second. Then Clark reached for his wallet. “But I’d like to reimburse you.” “…What?” “I don’t want to accept something I can’t return.” “You don’t have to—” “I’d rather.” The student blinked, accepted the cash after several awkward attempts to refuse it, and walked away looking more confused than rejected. Clark sighed quietly. His roommate, who had witnessed the exchange from across the courtyard, wandered over. “You know people think that’s weirder than just saying no.” “It avoids misunderstandings.” “It creates entirely new ones.” Clark slipped his wallet back into his pocket. “I don’t like owing people.” “It was chocolate.” “It was a gift.” His roommate laughed. “One day someone’s going to take advantage of that.” Clark glanced toward the law building. “I doubt it.”