Rumors on Christmas Day: Time for My Revenge

The messages in the WhatsApp group kept coming.

My fingers trembled with anger as I scrolled up and read every insult they'd thrown at me.

I noticed the group was created last September. The very first message was from Sharon Everton.

[Did you guys notice? Our roommate, Esther Lane, got picked up by different men in different luxury cars two days in a row. Also, everything she wears is designer.]

[I heard even before coming to college that some girls become escorts for money. Never thought we'd have one in our own dorm.]

[We should stay away from her. Don't want to catch whatever she's got.]

No wonder the way they looked at me when I first moved in had always felt off.

Back then, I thought I was just being paranoid. To get closer to them, I'd often buy them gifts and treat them to meals.

Now I realized that in their eyes, I was just a personal ATM.

Right then, my phone rang.

Sharon's cheerful voice came through.

"Esther, why aren't you here yet? We've been waiting forever!"

I suppressed my anger and said calmly, "You guys go ahead."

Her tone turned even more chirpy. "Alright then, don't mind if we do!"

It wasn't the first time this happened. Whenever I was late, they'd order first and leave me to cover the bill after they were done eating.

I'd heard of the restaurant they went to today. The minimum spend was 1,500 bucks.

I'd like to see how they planned to pay for that.

An hour later, the three of them pushed the door open and marched in angrily.

Sharon snapped, "Esther Lane! If you were in the dorm, why didn't you answer our calls?"

Mary Carlson added, "The restaurant owner almost reported us to the police because we couldn't pay!"

I looked at them in disappointment.

"But you made it back just fine, didn't you?"

Sharon clenched her jaw. "The bill was 4,500 bucks. We each took out a 1,500 loan online just to pay for it."

She displayed her bank account number front of my face.

"Whatever. I won't argue about you being late and embarrassing us. Just pay us back."

I snorted. "You went out to eat. Why should I pay?"

She froze. "What do you mean? You said you'd treat us!"

I grabbed her laptop, flipped the screen toward them, and said coldly, "I only treat my friends to meals. Do people who insult and badmouth me behind my back count as friends?"