Breaking the Facade, Becoming the School's Sweetheart

The night I climbed out the window and ran, I had only one thing in my pocket. It was my brother's discarded old smartphone. The screen was cracked, and the battery would die frequently.

While waiting for my SAT results, I worked in a restaurant, washing dishes. My fingers stayed soaked in water all day until they turned pale and numb.

On the day the scores were released, I sat in an internet cafe. When I read "Score: 1540. Meets application criteria for highly selective colleges", I felt no joy at all. Instead, my throat tightened.

No matter how high my score was, I had no money for tuition and no home to go back to.

One day, my phone received a message from an unknown number. It was a special admission offer from an elite college, with a full tuition waiver. The fees would all be covered, plus a 30-thousand-dollar annual financial aid.

I stared at the screen for a long time before tears rolled down my cheeks. This wasn't an invitation at all—it was a lifeline.

That was why I couldn't understand people like Cecily. We were both standing here only because of the faculty's kindness, yet she treated the people who gave us this chance like enemies. She hurled cruel words at them as if they were knives.

I was running toward the classroom with the breakfast Steven had asked for when the bell rang. My hands shook, gripping the sandwich and the hot milk, afraid I was too slow.

However, when he took them from me, he softly said, "Thanks. I appreciate it."

For a moment, all the hardships I had felt on the way seemed to vanish.

After class, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Steven, offering 500 dollars for another errand. I stared at the numbers and couldn't help laughing. That was more than I made washing dishes in the restaurant for three days.

It felt like I was one step closer to finally being able to finish college in peace.

Before my laughter could fade, a hand shot out and snatched my phone, smashing it to the floor. The cracked screen shattered completely into a spiderweb, like the tiny glimpse of hope I had fought to see was destroyed in an instant.

The sharp crack of the phone hitting the floor cut through the noisy break, and the laughter around us fizzled out.

I snapped my head up, and there Cecily was, standing before me with an icy gaze. Beneath her foot was my cracked phone, and she ground into it as if it were some filthy thing.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Cecily?"

I rushed forward to pick up my phone, but she shoved me hard. I slammed into the desk leg, the pain shooting through my back. I gasped.

Cecily towered over me, a cruel smile curling her lips. "Crazy? You're the crazy one. You're running errands for those rich brats over a few lousy bucks? How can you stoop that low?"

She pointed at the transfer record still showing on my shattered phone and shrieked, "500 dollars got you all happy like this? Don't your parents feel ashamed knowing you're here working like a maid for them?"

Her words struck a chord. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, my voice shaking.

"What's wrong with being an errand runner? I earn my own money, and I don't steal or cheat. I'm a hundred times better than someone like you who lives off their kindness but spits on everyone else."

"Kindness?"

Cecily reacted as if she had heard a joke. Her laugh was sudden, bitter, and almost hysterical, tears pooling in her eyes.

"What kindness? They use their pocket change to parade us around like trophies! You really think these arrogant brats respect you? He just thinks you're easy to order around, a maid he can use!"

She got more and more worked up, reaching out to shove me. I dodged but accidentally crashed into a nearby desk. Books were scattered all over the floor.

"Don't go too far, Cecily!"

I grabbed her fallen books, glaring at her and shouting, "I don't care what you think! I just want to study and earn a living! I don't want to be like you, living in your own bubble while blaming everyone else for your life!"

Her face turned crimson, her gaze screaming anger and reluctance. She parted her lips, wanting to say more, but a voice interrupted her, "What are you guys doing?"

I turned to see the lecturer. He frowned and walked over.

When he saw the shattered phone and scattered books, he turned gloomy. "The class is about to start, and you're causing a scene here? Get back to your seats now!"