CATCHING THE BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 2

Author’s Note:  I'm gonna update now, coz I would be busy tomorrow and I will not have the time to write.
To all waiting for the next chapter here it is... Hope you enjoy!!!

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My shift ended at nine, while I hadn’t spoken to any more billionaires, I’d actually done okay.

Somehow, my conversation with Matthew Bloomberg had given me more confidence in what I was doing and my own ability. He’d said I was doing a good job, after all. And, coming from him, that had to mean something.

In any case, I’d even started to enjoy myself once I got the hang of things. Nearly everyone had memories to share or stories to tell, and as I made my way back to my dorm room, I found myself wondering what my story was.

I’d done so well from primary to high school that I’d come to university fully prepared to be called a genius. Except I wasn’t like that at all. That I'm just normal, like everybody else.

And here I was, three and a half years later, finals looming and…

Fuuuck.

I climbed the stairs and pushed open the door to my room. I’d come bottom of the ballot, which meant I should have been living in a dustbin round the back of college, but Beny had come near the top, and since he needed someone to share a room with, that had hiked me up.

He was huddled on the sofa under a duvet, looking tragic.

“Feeling better?” I asked.

“Blah.”

“I’m sorry.”

I gave him a sympathetic pat in the shoulder and went into my bedroom to slip into something less socially acceptable, emerging a few seconds later in my boxers and my Favorite Little Pink T-shirt.

We’d been roommates long enough to have established our designated chairs—though, unfortunately, mine was currently a make-do revision station, consisting of my laptop, a pile of books, and a half-drunk bottle of Gatorade.

Mooching over, I grabbed the nearest book and curled up, reading in earnest. Expecting a miracle that the words would stuck into my brain. Because that was totally how it worked.

Beny stirred in his duvet cocoon. “How’s it going?”

“Terrible.”

“What have you got to worry about? It’s English lit.”

He wasn’t actually being mean. My course had a reputation for being easy—probably deservedly, since the earliest lectures started at eleven and, while they weren’t presented as optional, hardly anyone went to them anyway.

“Yes, but how am I supposed to revise every book written in English from 650's to the present day. That’s completely  impossible.”

“Can’t you prioritize the important ones or something?”

I only looked at him with raised brows.

“Okay. Okay. I'm just saying...”

I could have explained to him in grand details why I thought that's completely impossible but nobody deserved that long talk. And Beny, was my best and oldest friend. We’d been on the same table in Algebra 101 at my first year and stuck together ever since, despite having nothing in common, except maybe that one time when he’d been drunk enough to let me wank him off.

He was brilliant in everything. Constantly getting internships at MIT. He played in the University's football for the men’s team until his second year, and had recently returned from Uganda, where he’d been part of a team that was repairing a health center. All of which made him the perfect person to do fund-raising thingy…except he's down with the flu.