My Roommate Is Rich

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them.

I rolled my eyes.

Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent.

She was no princess, but she acted like one.

I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me.

“At your service, Your Highness!”

I was grinning from ear to ear when I received the 200,000 dollars. I already knew what I wanted to buy.

I decided to buy something every day so that a package would arrive daily this month.

The rich heiress, Tahlia Johnson, sneered and said, “You’re already happy with a mere 200,000 dollars? Hurry up and help me move my stuff.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

I huffed and puffed as I shoved all my things into my suitcase. Then, I carefully stored Tahlia’s stuff in the locker.

She looked at her neatly arranged things with satisfaction. Then, she casually pointed at a MacBook Pro sitting unopened on the desk. “Take it. I dropped it on the way here, and I don’t use trash.”

“Sure!”

I could barely stop myself from smiling.

I quickly moved the MacBook to my own desk before Tahlia left to check out the campus.

Meanwhile, I opened the laptop’s packaging and discovered that it was fine.

There was only a tiny scratch, so I had definitely hit the jackpot.

From that day onward, I became Tahlia’s sidekick and did whatever she asked me to do.

Some people saw how I sucked up to her and said I was money-hungry.

Honestly, if a rich girl were throwing out tens of thousands of dollars, who would not suck up to her? It was a shortcut to a rich life.

They just did not get it.

One day, I was bringing Tahlia’s takeout from the campus gate when some people blocked my way.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Tahlia’s sidekick. Out fetching her takeout?”

“Yes, but that’s none of your business. She has someone bringing her takeout. You don’t. You poor thing,” I said coolly.

“How dare you?!”

Harper Langley gritted her teeth and glared at me.

The school had strict rules not to allow outsiders on campus. Those who ordered takeout had to pick it up at the gate themselves.

I had seen Harper do it more than once.

“Heh, it’s just takeout. Anyone can take it. You look like her errand girl.”

“Haha. Can you believe that people are still acting like slaves in the modern era?”

Marina Xander looked me up and down, as though I were garbage, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s so funny. Don’t tell others we’re in the same class if you go out,” Harper added.

“Are you two famous or something? Are you influencers? Top scorers? If you’re not, why would I mention being in the same class as you?”

Their expressions instantly darkened.

I did not feel like dealing with them, so I