THE BEGGER BOY IS RICH HEIR

CHAPTER 9

Ethan stepped out of the bank, feeling the weight of his worn bag filled with cash. 

Just as he climbed onto his carbon-fiber scooter, his phone rang.

Glancing at the screen, he saw it was his roommate.

“Hey, Ethan, where are you?” his roommate asked.

 “Class started, and the professor’s already taken attendance. You know how he gets.”

Ethan’s heart dropped as he checked the time.

He’d completely forgotten his lecture in the commotion at the bank. 

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he replied, kicking his scooter into gear and racing toward the college.

He arrived at the classroom, slightly out of breath, his bag slung over his shoulder.

 As he stepped in, every head in the room turned to him.

At the front of the room, Professor Whitmore, a man with a perpetual scowl and sharp eyes, paused his lecture, his lips curling into a condescending smile.

“Well, well,” Professor Whitmore sneered, eyeing Ethan. 

“Look who decided to join us. The class’s star latecomer! We’re so honored you could grace us with your presence today, Ethan. Should we give you an award?”

A faint chuckle rippled through the room as Ethan forced himself to remain calm. “I apologize for being late, sir. It won’t happen again.”

Professor Whitmore waved his hand dismissively, clearly not done.

 “Oh, it’s quite all right. After all, what’s a lecture compared to the important things that keep you from attending on time?”

 His gaze shifted to the bag over Ethan’s shoulder, his eyes narrowing with contempt. “And what’s that you brought with you? A shabby, stinky trash bag?”

Ethan felt his face flush but kept his tone steady. “It’s just my bag, sir. Nothing more.”

Professor Whitmore’s mocking smile deepened.

“Nothing more? Smells like you’ve been digging through dumpsters with it! Or perhaps, it’s your little side job as a scavenger?”

A ripple of laughter moved through the class, and Ethan gripped the strap of his bag tightly, biting back a retort.

Stay calm, he reminded himself. Don’t let him get to you.

But Whitmore wasn’t done.

“It’s admirable, though,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Some people collect vintage items; you’ve decided to collect trash bags. Quite… original.”

Ethan forced a thin smile, refusing to rise to the bait. “May I take my seat, Sir.”

Professor Whitmore snorted. “Take your seat—preferably far from anyone who might be sensitive to the… scent.”

Ethan made his way to his seat, his face impassive, though inside he felt the sting of each jibe.

He felt the stares and heard the whispers but kept his focus straight ahead. 

As the lecture continued, Ethan noticed a familiar face a few rows ahead turn toward him with an expression of shock—Melissa, his ex-girlfriend.

She gaped at him, her mouth slightly open in disbelief.

What’s her problem now? Ethan thought, but he ignored her, keeping his focus on his notes.

After class ended, as students began gathering their things, Melissa approached him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Ethan?” she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought… you must be in prison.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, barely looking at her.

“Melissa, it’s none of your business,” he replied, his voice laced with impatience.

Melissa’s eyes narrowed, her curiosity turning into a smirk.

“Who bailed you out, then? We all know you couldn’t afford to do it yourself.”

Ethan turned to her, his lips curling into a cold smile. “Again, not your business.”

Melissa’s face flushed with irritation, but before she could respond, a soft voice interrupted them.

“Ethan!” Claire called, her voice breaking the tension as she approached them.

She smiled warmly at him, her genuine friendliness surprising Ethan.

She was the most beautiful girl in their class and, unlike Melissa, never looked down on anyone.

“Hey, Claire,” Ethan greeted, his tone softening slightly.

Claire flashed him a bright smile.

“We’re all planning a dinner tonight with the class,” she said. “It’d be nice if you joined us. It’s been a while since everyone got together.”

Melissa folded her arms, a mocking smirk spreading across her face as she eyed Ethan.

“Oh, please, Claire,” she said, laughing.

 “If Ethan joins us, he’ll have to starve for a week just to afford his share. I mean, splitting the bill? That’s like asking him to perform a magic trick!”

Ethan raised an eyebrow but remained silent, refusing to take her bait.

Melissa continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“He probably keeps a calculator on him to count pennies! Maybe we should pitch in and buy him a cup of water so he doesn’t break the bank tonight.”

A few nearby classmates chuckled nervously, but Claire frowned, clearly unimpressed by Melissa’s jabs.

Melissa leaned closer to Claire, pretending to whisper but loud enough for Ethan to hear. 

“Seriously, though, Claire. He probably thinks ‘fine dining’ means ordering a large fry at the burger joint down the street. I doubt he even knows what a restaurant menu looks like.”

Ethan finally turned to her, his eyes cold but amused. 

“Done yet, Melissa? Or do you need me to lend you a dollar so you can keep going?”

Claire stifled a smile and looked at Melissa with a raised brow. 

“Actually, I think Ethan’s got more class than half the people here. So, if you’re worried about splitting the bill, maybe it’s you who should skip dinner.”