Return of the hidden heir

Unfortunate being

Harlan took another deep breath. He had often heard that one shouldn't be afraid of taking risks more than being miserable, and that was what he was doing right now— taking a risk.

"What do you want to tell me?" Cecilia asked impatiently.

"You were not in the last class, and the lecture is very important. I took some notes, I will be willing to give them to you," Harlan said, stretching the notepad in his hand to Cecilia. It had taken him almost three days to get everything he had written there.

Cecilia stared at the note before staring at Harlan.

"Why are you giving me this?" She asked suspiciously.

"Nothing… or maybe it's because I care about you," Harlan said with a shrug.

Cecilia looked around quickly to be sure no one was near to hear what Harlan just said.

"What did you just say?" She snapped.

Harlan's heart missed a beat. That sounded like a rejection. He glanced at Cecilia. She was As beautiful as she has been since their first day in law school.

"I like you," Harlan repeated in a bold voice, ignoring the fast rate at which his heart was beating.

"Are you insane? How can you tell with that smelling mouth of yours that you like me? Are you normal? Gosh! I can't believe this!" She collected the notepad from Harlan and tore it into pieces.

"You seem to have forgotten that you are here because of my father's charity work. He was the one who gave scholarships to the less privileged, like you. How dare you tell me you like me? Don't you know who you are again?" She yelled.

Harlan looked in horror as she tore the book to pieces. Of course, he had known that there were chances that she might turn him down, but he had never thought she would be so angry to tear the note he had made into pieces.

Cecilia tore the last piece of the note, rolled it into a ball and threw it at Harlan.

"I don't know what I did to you to deserve this, it took me a lot of hours to get those notes together." Harlan said, hurt.

"It's the likes of you who need to spend all your life reading and taking note, in the end you are still nothing but a filthy rag. Do you think I need to read before I pass any exam here? D*mn it. I must have let my guard down for you to be bold enough to tell me you like me." She gave him a look of disgust and took out her cologne. She sprayed it in the air before walking off angry.

Harlan ran his hands through his hair as he stared at her back. He had had a crush on her for the past four years, now that he had summoned up the courage to ask her out, he couldn't believe this is what he got.

The alarm on his phone rang. Quickly, he rushed to the lecture room. The last thing he wanted was to be late for class.

He sat down with the other three hundred students in the hall as they anticipated the arrival of the lecturer. Being the poorest student in his department, Harlan had no friends, so the chatter going on in the lecture room made no difference to him. The fact that he just got rejected by his first crush too made the chatter almost meaningless to him.

Once the lecturer came in, all the noises died off. 

Leonard was fuming with rage as he picked the microphone. He just had a heated argument with the head of department in his office, the man always thinks because he has a higher level, he can boss Leonard around.

All the students watched Mr Leonard's angry face as he looked at them.

"If any of you make any stupid noise today, this would be your last day in my..." Leonard's voice trailed off as someone whistled.

"Who the hell made that sound?" He blared.

No one made a move or offered to confess to making the whistle.

"Are you all dumb? I asked who made that whistle!" Leonard yelled.

Cecilia raised her hand. All heads turned in her direction. Harlan was surprised. He wondered why she would be confessing to making the whistle when she couldn't even do it.

"Take your things and go out now." Leonard ordered.

"It was Harlan who whistled, I saw him do it," Cecilia said.

Harlan stared at her in shock, their eyes met. She glared hard at him and he stood up.

"You are very stupid for whistling in my class. Are you not the one who made it here with a scholarship?" Leonard questioned, looking at Harlan sternly. 

"I am. I am sorry Sir," Harlan said. He wondered why Cecilia pointed to him as the one who whistled when he wasn't the one.

"If you repeat something as stupid as that again, I will send you out of here and this will be the last time you will be attending my class for the rest of your stay in this college," Leonard warned.

Harlan took a deep breath and sat down.

Just as Leonard was about to start talking again, some laughed.

Because of the funny way the laughter sounded, many other students joined in the laughter.

Leonard, more than angry now, walked up to Harlan.

"I don't want to see you in my class again." 

"Sir… I wasn't the one who laughed," Harlan protested.

"Just get out, will you?" Leonard snapped.

Slowly, Harlan took his bag strap and left the class, glancing at Cecilia.

Since that was the only class he had that day, Harlan knew he would be wasting his time if he remained in the school compound. He went to the restaurant where he did a part-time job as a waiter. 

"You are early today," the manager commented, seeing Harlan.

"Yes, Sir."

"There are a lot of dishes to wash in the kitchen and one of the workers there isn't around today, if you could work there until it's time for your shift, you will get an extra tip."

An extra tip meant more money and even a dollar added to Harlan's income at the moment would go a long way.

He smiled, "I will be glad to work there." 

Harlan changed to the uniform worn in the restaurant and went to the kitchen. He greeted the few people who saw him, but none of them answered him. They all had too much to do than to answer a greeting from Harlan, he knew this well.

There were a lot of plates to wash. Some hours later, Harlan stretched his limbs. Just a few more minutes and it would be time for his normal shift. 

"Everyone, your attention is needed." A voice from the speaker echoed in the kitchen, grabbing everyone's attention.

"It must be an emergency," someone said.

That voice only sounded when someone important was meant to be passed across to the workers. Harlan joined the rest of the workers as they hurried to the meeting room.

The manager and a young man were having a heated argument when Harlan got inside the meeting room. As soon as everyone was seated, the manager mounted the podium and stared hard at everyone in the hall.

"I know a lot of humans are like carbs— always trying to pull other people down. I have worked to earn this position, and you know what? No one will succeed in pulling me down, I am only going higher." The manager shouted.

There was silence in the hall. The manager only raises his voice when there is a problem in the restaurant.

"Who the hell are those washing the plates? Stand up now!" He shouted.

Harlan let out a breath of relief. At least, he is a waiter, whatever the manager was saying didn't concern him.

There were noises of shifting of chairs as a few people stood up.

"Who among you broke a plate and didn't report it?" The manager shouted.

"I didn't break any plate," one of them said.

"Me neither."

"I have been washing dishes in this restaurant for the past ten years, it is not possible that I will break a plate and not report it." Another person said.

"Do you think I am joking with you? One of the Alberts was here and guess what? His plate was chipped at the side, the plate he was served food with!" 

Everyone gasped. 

"Who is that unfortunate being That broke the plate?" The manager growled, anger written on his face.

"Someone new just joined us today, it will definitely be him," one of them suggested in a shaky voice.

"Who joined… oh…" the manager's voice trailed off as he looked around the hall for Harlan.

Harlan froze in his seat. How come the blame has shifted on him?

"Harlan Allen!" The manager bellowed.

Disowned

Harlan stood up and stared blankly at the other people who washed the plates in the kitchen. He stared at the woman who had suggested that it was him who broke the plate, she shrugged and looked away. Harlan clenched his fist.

"Sir, I wasn't the one who broke the plate, I can swear on anything that none of the plates slipped from my hands," Harlan said, still surprised at the turn of events.

"What are you trying to say? That those of us who have been working here all these while are the ones who broke the plate?" One of the dish-washer countered.

Harlan shook his head, no way he would be accused of what he didn't do, "are you also trying to tell me that I don't know how to wash plates?"

"Isn't it logical? The minute you started washing was the day a plate broke," another dish-washer chipped in.

"It's okay, all of you. Harlan come with me, the rest of yo