My roommate Russell saw my sister Marta give me a $20,000 membership card to the ice skating club. She immediately came over and said, "We just finished exams. Let's go relax together." I replied, "I don't have time recently. I need to prepare for my graduate school applications." She pursed her lips and said: "You just don't know how to enjoy yourself. If you're not going, I'm definitely going to have some fun." I was a bit confused. A single visit to the ice skating club cost at least $500. She usually wouldn't even buy a $5 makeup sponge. Would she really spend money to go to the club? She wouldn't try to use mine, would she? Sure enough, she used my identity and brought her childhood friend and two other friends into the club. They chose the most expensive coach in the venue, used the top-tier equipment, and had a blast all day. However, when it came time to pay, she completely froze! Right after turning in the last exam before break, Russell blocked the classroom door. "Lester!" She grabbed my arm. "Do you have any plans this weekend?" I pulled my arm away. "I need to prepare for grad school applications. I'm busy and don't have time." "What? Studying during break?" Russell's smile froze for a second. "But you can't just study all day, right? Ever heard of work-life balance? Let's go to that ice skating club and have some fun—the one we went to last time!" I glanced at her and didn't respond. She continued, "Just one day, that's all. After relaxing, you'll study way more efficiently. Really!" "I really don't have time. You can ask someone else to go with you." I finished speaking and headed toward the dorm. Russell followed, pursing her lips. "Ask someone else? Ask who? Bonnie and Ruth are planning to go back home, Maya's going to her boyfriend's place." "Only Mira's left, and she's so stingy. If I bring her along, what good would it do me?" Seeing me walking fast, she caught up again and said: "You just don't know how to enjoy yourself. If you're not going, I'm definitely going to have some fun." She especially liked ranking classmates by their family backgrounds and only hung out with those from wealthy families. I thought it over carefully. Something felt off. Bringing Mira wouldn't do her any good? But bringing me would benefit her greatly! Did she really think I was an idiot? Last month when buying books, $102, she had Maya pay upfront and still hasn't paid her back. At the cafeteria, she always arrived three minutes late, coming over with her empty tray, looking embarrassed, saying she forgot to bring money, and mooching a meal. My mind quickly flashed back to a scene from a month ago. My sister Marta came to our city on a business trip and specially took a day to visit me. To help me get along with my roommates, Marta treated all six of us in the dorm to the most expensive Western restaurant in the shopping district—over $400 per person. After dinner, Marta took us to that high-end ice skating club downtown. She got me a membership card right there and loaded $20,000 onto it. Marta patted my shoulder and said, "When you're tired from studying, come skate a couple rounds and clear your head." Everyone in the dorm had a great time that day. Coming here cost at least $1,000, which I could never afford on my own. Last time, I saw her at a street vendor stall near campus with a $5 makeup sponge. She picked it up, touched it, put it down, and eventually walked away. She often said she was rich. Her family lived in a mansion, huge and spacious, with several cars. But when school started, I clearly saw her dad carrying a worn cloth bag with her luggage, wearing old green sneakers with the rubber sole coming apart. Whenever she called home, she'd borrow a roommate's phone and run far away to make the call. A $1,000 ice skating trip—did she really have that much money? Unless she was using my card. Last time at the ice skating club, she stared at Marta the whole time, her eyes practically glued to her. Later, she slipped away to the front desk by herself. I didn't pay attention at the time. But Bonnie noticed and told me when we got back: "Russell went to the front desk and asked a bunch of questions—whether the card was registered to a specific person, if someone else could use it, whether there'd be a notification on the phone after using it..." When she came back, Bonnie joked, "Are you planning to get one too?" Russell flipped her hair back then, looking disdainful: "If I wanted a card, wouldn't that be easy? One call to my dad and the money would be transferred immediately." Later, she once asked me in a roundabout way: "Lester, with your ice skating card, can you see the transaction details on your phone afterward? Do you get text messages?" I said, "That's too much hassle. I never look at text messages." Her eyes shifted, and she smiled at me really happily. The more I thought about it, the more uneasy I felt. I'm not a particularly stingy person, but having someone secretly eyeing my money made me feel uncomfortable. Walking through an empty school corridor, I pulled out my phone and called the ice skating club's front desk.
A guy answered the phone. "Hello, I'd like to ask—if I'm not there in person, can someone else use my membership card by giving my phone number?" "Hello, ma'am. Our membership card purchases have strict identity verification procedures." "Any transaction requires the member to be present in person and show identification." "Or we send an authorization confirmation text to the member's phone through our system, and the member must reply with consent before the charge can be processed." "If it's a non-member making a purchase, we'll immediately call the member for confirmation." After hanging up, I felt completely relieved. The next day at noon, I came back from the library. As I pushed open the dorm door, I was greeted by Russell's loud voice. "Look!" She stood in the middle of the room, holding up a brown bag with a huge logo and shiny metal hardware. "My dad bought this for me! Michael's brand, limited edition!" She spun around and shoved the bag in Bonnie's face. "Look at this hardware, the quality. And look at this engraving—each one individually carved, so clear." She turned it over to show Maya. "And this luggage tag with an independent serial number and certificate. It's authentic!" Bonnie leaned against the bed, chin in hand, looking for two seconds. "How much was it?" "Thirteen thousand!" Russell's eyes were glowing. Maya poked her head out from the top bunk, staring at the bag for five seconds. "Russell, I've seen this online." Russell's smile froze. Maya pulled out her phone, scrolled twice, and shoved the screen in Russell's face. "Look, exactly the same one. Nine dollars, twenty thousand sold monthly." Russell pushed Maya's phone away. "What do you know? Authentic and knockoff can't be the same! Feel this leather, feel it!" Bonnie suppressed a laugh and looked down at her phone. Russell didn't care about everyone's reactions at all. "What can I say? You all have no taste." She carefully tucked the bag into her locker and moved next to me. "Lester, are you sure you won't reconsider going to the ice skating club?" "No, I already paid for tutoring classes." She moved half a step closer and said mysteriously: "Do you know what kind of people go to that club?" "All rich kids like me, whose families own companies, who drive sports cars—each one hotter than the last." "What great resources. Unlike these poor people."
Her eyes glanced dismissively at Maya and the others. "I'm not interested in meeting hot guys." "How can you be so rigid?" I pulled out my tutoring class registration confirmation and shoved it in her face. A4 paper, white background with black text, one large line in the middle: Payment Amount: $3,000. "Look, classes run every day from 8 AM to 6 PM, with just one hour for lunch." Her gaze stuck on the words "$3,000." Her eyes shifted, as if she was thinking about something! The day before May Day, the dorm started getting lively as everyone packed their luggage. Bonnie dragged a 24-inch suitcase to catch a train home. Maya carried a backpack to the train station where her boyfriend was waiting at the exit. The other roommates gradually left too, leaving me alone in the dorm. I lazily scrolled through Twitter while lying in bed. Russell had just posted an update. The first three photos were of her with a guy. Round-faced, not very tall, wearing a pilled polo shirt, smiling really hard. The caption read: "Tomorrow marks the sixth anniversary of Marcus and me knowing each other. Six years—no one can match the bond we've had since childhood." "I'm going to give him a huge surprise. Marcus, falling for me won't disappoint you." "I've got both the romance and security covered!" Followed by a row of hearts and fireworks emojis. The comments section already had replies. Her high school classmate commented: "Russell's going all out! What's the surprise? Tell us!" Russell replied: "It's a secret, but definitely something he'd never dream of." Another person commented: "Rich people are different. So jealous!" Russell responded instantly: "Not really, I just want to be good to the important people in my life." I stared at the words "something he'd never dream of" for a long time. That uneasy feeling surged up again—the feeling of being targeted by a thief. My parents were ordinary working people too. It's just that Marta was good at making money, and her giving me the card was a personal favor. Even if Marta didn't care about these things, having someone treat me like a fool and spend thousands of dollars still felt really uncomfortable. I picked up my phone and confirmed one more time. The staff member patiently explained to me: "Ma'am, under any circumstances, if the member is not present in person to show identification," "We will call the member for confirmation before any purchase, and simultaneously send a confirmation text link." "Both confirmations must be completed. If either is missing, the charge cannot be processed." I felt completely at ease. The next day, I stood in line and bought an iced coffee. Looking up, I saw Russell arm-in-arm with that guy Marcus. Two more people were with them— A guy and a girl. The guy had a cigarette in his mouth, and the girl wobbled in high heels. Marcus had his arm around Russell's shoulder, smiling and saying something. "...told you not to worry... Lester's card is my card... swipe whatever you want..." Marcus gave a thumbs up, his voice clear. "You're the best, Russell. Real loyal, real generous with me." Russell looked at Marcus's face with a sweet smile. "Of course! We're so close. In the whole dorm, she's closest to me. What's hers is mine." The guy with the cigarette egged them on from the side: "Then let's really enjoy ourselves today. I heard the coaches at that club are amazing." Russell patted her chest confidently: "Leave it to me. We'll pick the most expensive coach, use the best equipment, eat their steak lunch set at noon. We're going all out today!" Russell said this without hesitation, as if I really were her best friend. Actually, before Marta came to visit me, Russell completely ignored me. Looks like I wasn't being paranoid after all. If I hadn't been more careful, I would've definitely taken this loss.
At 4:30 PM, I finished my day of studying. I got back to the dorm exhausted, opened my phone, and saw Russell had posted many Twitter updates. First photo: A panoramic shot of the ice skating club lobby. Bright lights, ice surface reflecting the glow. Second photo: Four people posing together on the ice. Russell hugging Marcus, the other two making V signs. Third photo: A man in black coaching attire instructing Marcus on skating. Fourth photo: Close-up of equipment—professional ice skates, knee pads, helmet, full top-tier set. Fifth photo: Lunch—a table for four with four $298 black pepper steak sets. Sixth photo: Russell alone leaning on the railing for a selfie, hair in a high ponytail, makeup three times more elaborate than usual. Seventh photo: Marcus and his two friends goofing around with the coach's professional ice skates. Eighth photo: Four cocktails on the bar counter. I opened the ninth photo. I sat up in shock. Total amount: $9,999. The itemized list was crystal clear: Caption: "Living up to tomorrow, living up to you." The comments section had exploded. Her high school classmate: "Russell, you're so rich!" Russell replied: "Just average." Another person: "Six thousand for a private coach? You're really generous!" Russell replied: "Nothing wrong with being good to yourself." Bonnie commented at the bottom: "Wait, you still owe me a hundred from buying books last time. You have money to spend ten thousand but not a hundred to pay me back?" I couldn't help but laugh. Last time when buying books, everyone in the dorm agreed to go together. Russell was munching on bread and insisted on coming along. When the books were selected and it was time to check out, she said her phone was dead and had Bonnie pay for her. When Bonnie asked her for the money back, She said her dad was doing big business and cash flow was tight, and she'd transfer it when she had money. She even called Bonnie stingy! Bonnie was so mad! $9,999—she really treated my card like an ATM. While thinking this, my phone rang. "Hello, is this the owner of the membership card ending in 3782?" "Yes, it's me." "Hello, ma'am. I'm the duty manager at the club." "This afternoon, four customers came to our establishment and gave us your membership information." "These four customers arrived at our store at 10:30 AM and insisted they were your friends and had your authorization." I leaned back on the bed, smiling. "I have no knowledge of this purchase whatsoever. I have never authorized anyone to use my membership card." The manager immediately understood. "Understood. Sorry to bother you!" I happily turned off my phone. And took a nice bath. Over two hours later, I was combing my freshly blow-dried hair. I picked up my phone—57 missed calls, 99 text messages. Just as I was about to open them, another text came in. "Dear member, your account has a pending purchase for confirmation, amount $9,999. If you are aware and authorize this, please reply 'Yes'; if this is not authorized by you, please reply 'No'."
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