My arrogant roommate recently snagged herself a “trust fund guy” boyfriend and has made it her mission to make my life miserable. She even stole my scholarship, then rallied a bunch of people online to bash me. “Oh, look at the campus star,” she sneered, “Too proud to donate a dime for her roommate’s family even though her ‘scholarship boyfriend’ just gave a million!” I was speechless. The anonymous million-dollar donor was me. When she saw I didn’t react, she brought her boyfriend over to “put me in my place.” Wait, isn’t that… my family’s security guard? How did he end up driving my car to take girls on dates? 1、 Recently, my roommate Danielle Clementine has been dating a “trust fund guy,” and she flaunts it around the dorm nonstop. “Hey, check out this Tiffany bracelet he got me. Isn’t it gorgeous?” Danielle raised her wrist to catch the sunlight, making sure the bracelet sparkled just right. “Wow, that must’ve cost thousands! Your boyfriend’s so good to you!” “For real! Does he have any friends? Set us up!” The other girls gathered around her, laying on the compliments thick. They practically worshipped her, making Danielle beam like she’d just won an award. She even tossed around high-end cosmetics from her stash, and the others scrambled to grab whatever they could, fawning over her even more. I was off to the side, reading quietly, not joining the chorus. This caught Danielle’s attention, and she gave me a sour look. “Sophie, don’t you think this Tiffany bracelet is stunning? Way better than that cheap silver bangle you’re always wearing, right?” I glanced at her “Tiffany” bracelet and knew right away it was a knockoff. My “plain” silver bracelet? A limited-edition piece from Tiffany’s. But seeing Danielle so proud of her “luxury” item, I held back. “Yeah, it’s really pretty. My little silver bracelet is nothing special.” Danielle’s smile widened, clearly pleased, and she came over and snapped my book shut. “Sophie, you really need to invest in some decent jewelry. It’s embarrassing standing next to you.” I was at a loss for words. Everyone knew Danielle’s background wasn’t exactly high-end; her family wasn’t even middle-class. She’d lived in cheap T-shirts and jeans before this “boyfriend” came along, and now she acted like a celebrity. I nodded absentmindedly, trying to remember what page I was on before she interrupted. Alexa Wind, another roommate, joined Danielle, looping her arm around Danielle’s. “Don’t worry about her. You and she aren’t even in the same league. Let’s have dinner together tonight. I want to hear more about you and your boyfriend!” Danielle smirked and raised her voice. “No can do. I’m going out with my boyfriend tonight.” Jealousy flickered in Alexa’s eyes. “Oh, at a fancy restaurant, right? Be sure to post on your feed!” Danielle said nothing, applying makeup for a solid fifteen minutes before putting on her one dress that cost more than $500, strutting out like a high-society swan. That evening, I ordered spicy gumbo and was eating happily in the dorm when Alexa squealed over her phone, “Danielle just posted! Look! Foie gras, caviar, red wine, steak… Oh my gosh!” A group of roommates crowded around to see, and Alexa glanced at my gumbo with a disdainful look. “Some people go on fancy dates with trust fund guys, and some just stay home with cheap gumbo. Isn’t the difference staggering?” I looked down at my steaming bowl of gumbo. Eating gumbo was a crime now? Seeing I wasn’t reacting, Alexa waved her phone in front of my face. “See? Danielle and her boyfriend are just so perfect together.” I glanced at the picture, and immediately my interest was piqued. The “trust fund guy” with his arm around Danielle? My family’s new security guard! My dad struck it rich with his first jackpot win and eventually made millions in Seattle through successful investments. During high school, I had everything: designer clothes, a chauffeur, and more. But the downside? I nearly got kidnapped. After that, Dad insisted I keep a low profile when I went to college. Even though he’d bought a mansion for me in Greenwich, Connecticut, near Columbia University, he encouraged me to stay on campus with other students. I was still used to high-quality clothes, so when people noticed, I started calling them knockoffs to keep a low profile. Eventually, everyone assumed I was a bit of a poser with a taste for imitation brands. I didn’t care—I was here to study. My dad never got the chance to go to college, so he always told me, “We may have nothing but money, but you study hard and make me proud!” A wall at home was covered with certificates of my achievements, each probably worth pennies, but each framed and tended to by the housekeeper. One time, Dad even climbed a ladder to glue a loose corner back on one of the frames. I came to college aiming to win scholarships every year. Money didn’t matter; it was all about the honor. I spent most of my time in the library and rarely went home to the mansion. Recently, we had to replace one of our security guards, so the previous one recommended his nephew, Tony James. He seemed responsible, so I didn’t hesitate to hire him. And here he was, passing himself off as a rich boyfriend for Danielle! As the roommates huddled around Danielle’s post, I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. 2 Danielle came back from her date, wearing a knockoff Chanel outfit and carrying a pile of gifts. One by one, she unwrapped them, and the roommates fawned over her. “Danielle, that Chanel looks amazing on you.” “Wow, a Gucci perfume too! Can I just hold it for a second?” “So jealous! You had a date at a five-star hotel, right?” Danielle didn’t stop smiling, even sneaking a glance my way as she unwrapped a bag and held it up. “Hey, Sophie, I remember you have a similar Hermès. Wanna bring it out so we can compare?” I took out an earbud, barely responding when Danielle opened my locker, pulling out my Hermès tote to place it beside hers. Danielle raised her voice. “Wow, Sophie, your tote doesn’t look quite the same as mine, does it?” The difference was obvious. Danielle’s was brighter, had thicker edging, and felt smoother—traits of a knockoff. Feigning surprise, Danielle said, “How strange! Mine’s a gift from my boyfriend. Yours came from home, didn’t it?” Alexa, catching Danielle’s hint, chimed in, “Oh yeah, Sophie did start college with knockoffs. Makes sense her bag isn’t the real deal.” Alexa continued, “Sophie, buying fake designer stuff doesn’t change your background. If you’re always flaunting knockoffs, it’s just going to cloud your perspective.” Danielle beamed at Alexa’s support, then turned to me with a condescending look. “I’d rather not have a roommate who doesn’t know right from wrong.” The two of them clearly expected me to cower, but I kept my cool, suppressing the urge to slap down the receipts right in front of them. Dad’s advice flashed in my mind, so I reined it in. “Danielle, did you ask permission before rummaging through my stuff? And Alexa, you’ve got a real knack for flattery. You two make a great team.” Danielle scoffed and picked up a pair of scissors. “Well, if I hadn’t looked, I’d never know just how far your vanity goes. I’ll be nice and help you out by cutting up this knockoff.” She aimed the scissors at my bag, and Alexa stepped closer, urging the others to hold me down. Completely unfazed, I said calmly, “Danielle, go ahead. But if you make a single cut, you’re paying for it.” “Even if this is a fake Hermès, it’s still worth thousands. You sure you can cover it?” After a pause, Danielle backed down, sulking as she put the scissors away. She threw me a glare before retreating. I hadn’t expected Danielle to cave that easily. The cheapest Hermès knockoff could cost just a few hundred bucks, probably around what Danielle’s bag was worth. I glanced her way and said, “Clean up my locker when you’re done.” Alexa sneered, “Sophie, don’t push it.” Danielle ignored me, humming to herself as she cleaned up. But I wasn’t letting it go. “Danielle, I’ll only ask once more. Clean my locker.” Danielle rolled her eyes, acting indifferent, but I stood up, kicked her chair, and said firmly, “I won’t ask again.” My roommates were all rich kids, unused to confrontation, and froze. Even Alexa went silent. Danielle gave a small shiver but reluctantly came over to clean up. I heard her mumble an insult under her breath, but I didn’t care. When she finished, I checked my now-organized locker, then returned to my seat and started reading my textbook out loud. The dorm went completely quiet, my voice clear as day. 3 I didn’t give Danielle much more thought, putting all my energy into earning a scholarship. My GPA was the highest in the department, I aced all my physical exams, and I participated in every scholarship-eligible event. So imagine my shock on award day when Danielle’s name topped the list for the National Merit Scholarship—and mine was nowhere to be found, not even a minor award. The hours I’d poured into studying, the sweat I’d shed—all a joke. Fuming, I checked my records. My scores were all top-tier except for “character,” where Ms. Julia Lambert had marked me as “unsatisfactory.” Heart pounding with anger and confusion, I marched to Ms. Lambert’s office. Upon entering, I found Danielle sitting there, smiling, as if she had just received an award. “Wow, didn’t expect to get so lucky. Guess hard work doesn’t always pay off, huh, Sophie?” Ignoring her, I asked, “Ms. Lambert, I have a question about the scholarship results.” Ms. Lambert sighed, adjusting her glasses, and said coldly, “Sophie, academics aren’t everything. You lack teamwork and character, so I couldn’t recommend you for the scholarship.” I was stunned. As a class rep, I got along with everyone and often lent my notes before exams. I’d done nothing to deserve this… except maybe clash with my roommates. Danielle’s guilty expression confirmed my suspicion. Taking a deep breath, I calmly turned to Ms. Lambert. “Ms. Lambert, basing this on one person’s word seems unfair.” Ms. Lambert’s face hardened. “Are you questioning my decision?” Danielle piled on. “Oh, Ms. Lambert, don’t bother with her. Sophie can be pretty low-brow.” I couldn’t help but notice Ms. Lambert’s “Tiffany” bracelet, a familiar knockoff. “Ms. Lambert, that Tiffany bracelet—you got that from Danielle, didn’t you?” Leaving Ms. Lambert speechless, I exited, saying, “If I can’t get justice here, there’s always the Dean.” Danielle sneered, “Go ahead. I’d love to see you try.” In the hallway, whispers buzzed about the scholarship. The room fell silent as I passed, except for Alexa’s mocking voice. “Well, look who’s here—the top student. Can’t even snag a scholarship?” I ignored her, called the Dean’s office, and when I couldn’t reach him, sent a long email detailing everything with evidence attached. After a week of waiting and disappointment, I had just given up when my phone buzzed. It was a message from Dad: “Don’t forget about your old man now that you’ve won! Keep up the good work.” Choked with emotion, I video-called my parents, finally letting the tears flow as I explained everything. Mom was furious, slapping Dad on the shoulder. “Frank, you call the Dean right now and demand this counselor be fired!” I sniffled, “I’ve tried; they don’t respond. What can Dad do?” Dad scratched his head. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m on the board of trustees.” Before I could react, the Dean called personally, apologizing and promising immediate action. Right as Danielle strutted in, the Dean’s voice rang through the speaker, “As per school policy, your roommate will face disciplinary action and return the scholarship.” Danielle burst out laughing. “Really, Sophie? Did you just hire someone to pretend they’re the Dean? That’s hilarious!”
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