She is Homophobic || FreenBecky [Completed]

Chapter 21

Summer break is almost here, and every time I catch a glimpse of Freen with others, it just bugs me even more. She's always at the café, chatting away with some other guy like she's in a rush to find a new boyfriend. It's whatever though – those guys she talks to are way more good-looking than the one she's always on the phone with.

"Why are you staring at her like that again?" Irin nudged me.

We were chilling at the café, and I spotted Freen off in the distance, yet again, talking to another guy. This was my first time seeing this dude, and from his uniform, I could tell he's from the business studies department. Come to think of it, all the guys she hangs out with here seem to be from that department. I just hope she doesn't start dating "Mushroom" next, 'cause that would totally ruin her awesome reputation.

"Do you know that guy, Wichai Saefan?" I asked Irin.

"Hmm." She nodded. "He's the big shot in the College of Business Studies. Why?" she asked.

"Top student, huh? So, he's actually smart?" I couldn't believe it. I shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

"Why? Doesn't he give off that vibe?" Irin chuckled and took a sip of her drink. "But don't even think about getting involved with him. He's a total flirt. Hits on any girl he thinks is pretty. Oh, and do you have social media?" Irin asked.

I shook my head.

"He's out there liking all the bikini pics. Kind of a turn-off for me." Irin shrugged and went back to her food.

Maybe that's why Freen doesn't want to date him – he's a self-proclaimed playboy who can't keep his cool.

"Speaking of which, did you ever tell Freen about the kiss? Does she even remember it?" Irin asked again, but I shook my head. "Ugh, why not?" she pouted.

"It's not even worth remembering, Malaiwong." I rolled my eyes and dug into my food.

A little while later, Freen and Mr. Smooth-Talker left the café. Not sure where they went, but I'm pretty sure she didn't even notice me.

Once they were out of sight, I saw a familiar guy standing by the entrance of the café, waving at me.

Seriously? How does he just waltz into the school when he's not even a student here? So annoying!

"Hey," he greeted me and took a seat next to me. "Oh, you must be Irin, right?" Richie asked.

"Yeah," Irin answered, giving him a friendly smile.

I could tell she was hurt. She'd been messaging Richie for months, but he acted like she didn't even exist. And now he's all cheerful, acting like he never ignored her messages.

"What brings you here?" I asked my brother. "You should be back in England, and I'm not going with you."

"Not quite." Richie ruffled my hair, earning him a stern glare from me.

"Then what is it?" I inquired.

"Mr. Chankimha hit me up earlier. He wants to meet you." Richie explained and took a sip of my milk tea.

"For what?" I asked, snatching my drink back. "You're a millionaire, Richie. Can't you afford your own drink?" I grumbled.

Irin laughed at us, then quickly went silent when we turned our attention to her.

"I don't really know. Probably wants to give you some reward." Richie shrugged.

"Does Mr. Chankimha know how loaded you are?" Irin asked me.

"I'm not exactly rolling in dough," I shot back. "Tell him I've got a meeting with Mr. Uareksit tonight. Maybe he can catch me some other time." I instructed Richie.

"Mr. Chankimha knows exactly who you are, Becky." Richie mentioned. "He's kind of a big deal compared to Mr. Uareksit."

I fell quiet for a moment. Irin looked puzzled by our convo, so she excused herself.

"Are you saying I should meet Freen's dad to ask about myself? That's ridiculous, Richie. Seriously, are you listening to yourself?" I questioned.

"Why not give it a shot?" Richie stood up and handed me a paper with Mr. Chankimha's info.

***

I headed to the spot Richie had pointed out, only to find out it wasn't Mr. Chankimha waiting for me. It was Freen's mom.

"Good evening," I greeted her, and she motioned for me to sit.

"How's school going? Are you doing alright?" she inquired, sipping her tea. "I wanted to give you something for looking out for my daughter recently." Mrs. Chankimha reached into her bag and passed me something.

Turns out, it was a fat check with a million dollars written on it.

I love money, but I love it even more when I've earned it.

"I'm sorry, but what's this for? I can't really recall babysitting Freen," I told her, handing the check back.

"It's like a compensation." She smiled. "I'd like you to keep your distance from her."

I raised an eyebrow at her condition. Do I look like I'm stuck to Freen's hip? She's the one who's always hanging around me, not the other way around.

"I'm not really into your money, Mrs. Chankimha. If you want me to stay away from Freen, you're gonna have to give me a better reason than that. Freen's a human being, not some puppet. In case you've forgotten," I said, standing up.

"Really?" Mrs. Chankimha stopped me as I turned to leave. "Can you tell me your parents' names?" she asked.

I've seen this scene in tons of movies. They want to dig up dirt on my folks so they can take 'em down. But sorry to burst their bubble – my parents are on a whole other level.

"Just look up my brother's net worth. His name's Richard Armstrong. If you can take him down, then maybe you'll have a shot at challenging my parents' company afterwards." I sighed out of frustration. "I don't need a million dollars, Mrs. Chankimha. I'm a billionaire." I whispered. "Just because I don't flaunt it, doesn't mean I'm not."