6
It was almost 11 p.m. and I was in my villa’s private spa, getting ready for bed, when Jessica’s call came through. The moment I answered, a piercing shriek nearly shattered my eardrum.
“FREDA, ARE YOU INSANE?! HOW DARE YOU TAKE OUT A HUNDRED–THOUSAND–DOLLAR PREDATORY LOAN! ARE YOU TRYING TO
GET YOURSELF KILLED?!”
I casually cleaned out my ear with my pinky finger, suppressing a laugh. The loan agency I’d chosen was clearly top–notch. They had already driven her to the brink.
“A loan? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said innocently. “And even if I did take out a loan, what does that have to do with you? Why are you so worked up?”
I said my piece and calmly hung up.
The next morning, I walked into my 8 a.m. class and took a seat. The girl next to me let out a sudden yelp, a look of pure disgust her face as she scrambled to gather her things.
པ པ 1:|:ཀྱང
“Get away from me! You’re filthy!” she shouted, grabbing her bag and fleeing to a seat in the back.
The last vestiges of sleepiness vanished as the classroom erupted in whispers.
“When people get desperate enough, they’ll do anything. I can’t believe she’d stoop that low. It’s disgusting.”
“She’s a disgrace to the entire university. The dean should expel her before she poisons the whole campus.”
ને વાયુ થી પહેલ
“Her poor parents. Can you imagine? They work so hard to send their daughter to college, only for her to do… that. Selling her body for money.”
12-16
Chapter 2
“No wonder Ethan hates her so much. He probably knew she was a sugar baby all along.”
That last comment, I heard loud and clear. I slammed my hands on the desk and shot to my feet.
“What the hell are you all gossiping about? If you have something to say, say it to my face!”
The words were barely out of my mouth when a phone was tossed onto my desk.
“You’re the one with no shame, Freda! We were trying to be nice by not saying it to your face, but you brought this on yourself!”
I looked down at the phone’s screen. A post on the campus forum was trending, marked with a big, red “EXPLOSIVE.”
[Campus Charity Case Busted? Is She a Gold Digger Living in a Mansion as Some Old Man’s Mistress?!]
The post was accompanied by a series of photos: me getting into my family’s villa, stepping out of a luxury car. Each photo was cleverly blurred to obscure half my face, but it was unmistakably me.
The post read: [A certain poor student at our university has been living off her roommate’s charity, but she’s a reckless spender who abused that kindness for her own high–end consumption. When her roommate cut her off, she held a grudge and found herself a sugar daddy, using her body to make money. Now she’s back to attacking the very person who helped her. It’s absolutely sickeni- ng!]
The comment section, started last night, was already hundreds of replies deep:
[OMG, this is literally that story about the farmer and the snake. You help someone once, and if you don’t help them for life, they’ll hate you forever.]
[This is so gross. The girl in the photos looks so familiar… Isn’t that Freda Sterling from our department? All the details match.]
[No wonder she’s always dressed to the nines. She’s a kept woman. She really thinks landing a rich guy is a substitute for having a personality.]
[I hope she dies. I’ve hated her for ages. If I ever see trash like her polluting our campus, I’ll send her straight to hell myself!]
[Tsk, tsk. This is what college girls are like these days. The allure of a mansion must be strong. Doesn’t even mind the old–man smell. So dirty.]
I slammed my palm on the table. “This is slander!” I roared. “I’m calling the police right now to clear my name!”
I was about to dial when Jessica stood up and blocked my path. “Freda, we all know you’re a poor student. And these photos clearly show you living in a mansion and riding in luxury cars. Don’t you think you owe everyone an explanation?” Her voice was cloying and reasonable. “We’re just asking legitimate questions. If it’s a misunderstanding, just prove it. We’re all classmates here. There’s no need to get the police involved.”
Looking at her face made me want to claw it off. “I haven’t stolen or robbed anyone. Why do I owe you an explanation? Who the hell do you think you are?”
Ethan stood up too, his expression a familiar mask of contempt. “Freda, you really need to take a long, hard look at yourself. Do you know why I can’t stand you? Because you’re selfish, trashy, and have no class. Looking at you makes me sick.” He sneered. “You reek of poverty. What other explanation is there besides you being a sugar baby? If you’ve got the gu your bank balance.”
“I’ll show you my foot up your ass!”
I grabbed a stack of textbooks and hurled them at him.
us
wrong. Show us
proving Yo
I understood now. They were cornered, and this was their only way out. They had to force me to prove my identity, which would inevitably involve my parents sending me money, thus solving their little debt crisis.
12.16
Chapter 2
Ethan’s face went rigid with fury. I dusted off my hands and smiled. “Alright, since things have come to this, I won’t hide it anymore. I’ll prove my real identity to all of you, right now.”
7
