The Last Minute of Poverty

chapter 4

Pendleton University, with its sprawling ivy-covered brick walls and manicured lawns, was a battlefield disguised as an institution of higher learning.

For the elites of Silver Bridge City, it was a high-end networking hub where deals were made between frat houses. For the few working-class students, it was a four-year endurance test.

With graduation just weeks away, the campus was buzzing with one primary obsession: the annual senior graduation dinner. It was the ultimate stage for the wealthy to flex their family's status one last time before stepping into the real world.

Jason pushed open the heavy wooden door to his dorm room, stepping into the cramped, familiar space.

"Jason!"

Colman Domingo practically jumped off his bed the moment the door clicked open. The burly, athletic young man let out a massive sigh of relief, dropping his gaming controller.

"Damn it, man, you had me worried sick," Colman said, walking over and gripping Jason’s shoulder. He looked Jason up and down, noticing the faint bruising on his forehead. "Are you okay? I heard about what Rose pulled at the lounge. If you need me to go find John and crack his jaw, just say the word."

Jason felt a genuine warmth spread through his chest. In a world full of vipers, Colman had always been a solid wall at his back.

He didn't bother asking how he got to know of the incident, as there's is no secret in the small town of Silver bridge. A witness is all it takes for the news to spread.

I'm fine, Colman. Really," Jason smiled faintly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill, extending it toward his friend. "Here. The money I borrowed for groceries last week."

Colman frowned, slapping Jason’s hand away.

"Put that away. Are you seriously trying to settle a hundred bucks right after getting your heart broken? Real brothers don’t count pennies, Jason. Keep it.”

Before Jason could argue, the bathroom door swung open, releasing a cloud of steam and the overwhelming scent of expensive cologne.

Matthew Bening stepped out, wiping his face with a towel. He was a quintessential rich kid; arrogant, and heavily reliant on his wealthy connections.

More importantly, he was one of John Starr’s most loyal lapdogs.

Seeing Jason standing there, a cruel, mocking smirk immediately stretched across Matthew’s face.

"Well, well. Look who dragged himself back to the gutter," Matthew sneered, tossing his towel onto his messy bed. "I got a text from John last night. Heard Rose finally got tired of pretending to like the smell of cheap laundry detergent. How does it feel, Jason? Watching your girl beg a real man to take her home?"

Jason didn't react. He just looked at Matthew with eyes so calm and cold it felt like looking at a dead man.

Taking Jason’s silence as weakness, Matthew felt a surge of arrogance. He assumed the breakup had completely broken Jason's spirit, making him an even easier target than usual.

The news of John's humiliation should have spread to the campus but judging by Mathew’s words, it has not reached the campus.

Is someone trying to cover it up? Jason wondered.

Matthew reached into his wallet and pulled out two crumpled ten-dollar bills, and threw them at him. The money hit Jason in the chest and fluttered to the floor.

"Go fetch me a six-pack of imported beer," Matthew ordered, waving his hand dismissively. "Consider the change as a tip. Since you're single now, you’ve got plenty of free time to be my errand boy."

"Pick it up," Jason said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling authority.

Matthew paused, blinking in surprise, before his face flushed red with anger. "What did you just say to me, you broke piece of shit?”

"I said, pick it up." Jason barked,

"You're asking for a death wish!" Matthew roared.

Losing his temper entirely, Matthew lunged forward, throwing a wild, heavy punch aimed squarely at Jason’s jaw.

Jason didn't even flinch. With terrifying speed and precision ingrained in his Pike family bloodline, he slightly tilted his head. Matthew’s fist hit nothing but empty air.

Before Matthew could recover his balance and follow up with a kick to the stomach, Jason moved.

Bang!

A lightning-fast punch sank deep into Matthew’s ribs, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Instantly followed by a sweeping kick to the back of his knees.

He collapsed like a puppet with a severed string, slamming hard onto the wooden floorboards, gasping violently for air. The entire exchange had taken less than two seconds.

Colman stood completely frozen by his bed, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock.

Jason stepped over the crumpled bills, looking down at Matthew who was clutching his ribs on the floor. "Next time you throw something at me, I won't be this polite."

Humiliated, red-faced, and trembling from the sudden pain, Matthew scrambled to his feet. He didn't dare say another word. He practically scrambled into his private bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

The dorm room fell into a heavy silence.

"Dude..." Colman finally exhaled, staring at Jason as if seeing him for the first time. "Since when do you hit like a professional hitman?”

"I've been working out," Jason replied, sitting down on his bed.

Colman shook his head, deciding not to push it. He grabbed a chair and spun it around, sitting backward. "Anyway... are you going to the graduation dinner this weekend?"

Jason leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "I doubt it. I don't really care about rubbing shoulders with trust-fund babies, Colman. I have no real connection with anyone in our class except you.”

“Come on, man," Colman pleaded, running a hand through his hair.

"If you don't go, I'm going to be stuck sitting by myself at a table full of snobs talking about their daddies' golf clubs. Just come as my wingman. Free food, open bar. What do you say?" Coleman asked, staring at him with a puppy-like expression.

Jason looked at Colman. This guy had shared his food, lent him money, and genuinely cared about his well-being when he was nothing but a 'broke waiter'. He'll go this time.

"Fine," Jason sighed, a faint smile returning to his face. "I'll go with you.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the thin wooden door, Matthew sat on the edge of his bed, pressing a bag of frozen peas against his throbbing ribs. His ear was pressed tightly to the door, listening to their every word.

When he heard Jason agree to attend the graduation dinner, a vicious smile spread across his bruised face.

He pulled out his phone and quickly typed a message to John Starr.

John. Lend me some cash. Jason is coming to the graduation dinner. I’ve got a plan to help you completely destroy that brat in front of the whole school.