Suspicion

Nathaniel sat in the backseat of the car, lost in thought. His driver navigated through the busy streets of the city as Nathaniel replayed his conversation with Kevin over and over in his head. He had finally come to the realization that he had feelings for Grace, the girl he had barely known, they had barely even spoken. It was a strange feeling, one that he wasn't quite sure how to process.

As the car turned onto his street, Nathaniel's thoughts turned to Grace's appearance. He had always thought of her as plain and unremarkable, but now he found himself drawn to her in a way he couldn't quite explain. She was a tomboy, with long black hair; that had nothing special and a no-nonsense attitude. There was nothing traditionally feminine about her, but he found her incredibly attractive.

He thought about her green eyes, which seemed to hold a depth of emotion that she rarely showed. She was always so calm and collected, even in the most stressful situations. It was one of the things he admired most about her.

As the car pulled up to his house, Nathaniel was lost in thought. He barely registered the driver opening the door for him and helping him out of the car. He walked up the steps to his front door, his mind still consumed with thoughts of Grace.

As he pressed on the doorbell, he couldn't help but wonder what it was about her that was so alluring. She wasn't like the other girls he knew, with their perfectly coiffed hair and designer clothes. But there was something about her that drew him in, something that made him want to get to know her better.

One of the house maids finally came to unlocked the door. He stepped inside and took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. He knew that he needed to figure out his feelings for Grace, but for now, he was content to simply think about her. He approached the stairs that was leading to his room, when he was confronted by his mother, Amanda. She was waiting for him in the foyer, arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

"Where have you been, Nathaniel?" she demanded. "You were supposed to be home hours ago."

Nathaniel took a deep breath and braced himself for the inevitable lecture. "I was at the hospital," he said calmly. "A friend of mine was in an accident and I went to visit her." He said that with the hope of getting her to let her guard down, which looks like it happened.

His mother's expression softened slightly at the mention of the hospital. "Is your friend okay?" she asked.

"She's stable now," Nathaniel replied.

But his relief was short-lived, as his mother's expression hardened again. "And who was this friend, exactly?" she asked. "One of your peasant classmates, I presume?"

Nathaniel felt his blood boil at his mother's dismissive tone. "Yes, she was a classmate," he said through gritted teeth. "But she's my friend, and she needed my support."

Amanda's eyes narrowed. "I don't want you associating with those people, Nathaniel," she said firmly. "How many times will I tell you? They're a bad influence on you. They're using you. Nothing good comes from poor people."

Nathaniel felt a surge of anger at his mother's words. He knew that she looked down on his classmates, but he couldn't understand why. They were just regular kids, like him, trying to make their way in the world. Most of them don't even care that he's rich, that he comes in a fancy car, with his own personal driver. Nobody would even talk to him willingly, unless he does it first.

"They're not using me," he said, his voice rising in frustration. "They're my friends. And they're good people."

"I've seen this people, I know them." She argues back.

"Mom, that's not fair," Nathaniel said, interrupting her tirade. "You can't just generalize all poor people like that."

His mother looked at him with a scowl on her face. "What do you mean? I'm just telling the truth."

"No, you're not," Nathaniel replied firmly. "There are plenty of hardworking people who are struggling to make ends meet. They deserve our respect and support, not your judgment."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please, Nathaniel. You're too young to understand how the world works."

"I may be young, but I know right from wrong," Nathaniel retorted. "And it's wrong to look down on people just because they don't have as much money as we do."

She sighed heavily and shook her head. "You're so naïve, Nathaniel. You don't understand how things work in this world."

"I understand perfectly well," Nathaniel said firmly. "I understand that poor people are humans too, and they deserve to be treated with dignity and respect."

She glared at him for a moment before finally relenting. "Fine, have it your way," she said dismissively; Nathaniel has never actively argued with her this much before. She wouldn't like to put too much pressure on him, but she hated the fact that he talks to peasant and relate with them. She had considered letting him home study instead but his father was strongly against it; if not things like this shouldn't happen ever.

Amanda shook her head. "I forbid you from seeing them after school," she said. "You need to focus on your studies and your future. You can't let them hold you back."

Nathaniel wanted to argue, to plead his case, but he knew it was futile. His mother had made up her mind, and there was no changing it. He gritted his teeth and nodded, knowing that he would have to find a way to go anywhere he wants without his mother finding out.

As he walked up to his room, Nathaniel couldn't help but feel frustrated and angry. He knew that his mother meant well, but her prejudice against his classmates was unfair and unfounded. He vowed to himself that he would find a way to prove her wrong, to show her that his friends were just as worthy as anyone else.

He was tired of her unnecessary Peniaphobia attitude, something he would be sitting at the dinner table, listening to his mother's rant about the poor people in their community. She would always complained about how they were lazy and didn't work hard enough to improve their lives; she was always so harsh on the maids and servants of the estate. He didn't know it was wrong until she began to harass his friends as well

Nathaniel felt a sense of satisfaction knowing that he had stood up for what he believed in. He knew that his mother's attitude towards poor people was becoming unbecoming of her, and he wasn't going to let her trample on them without speaking up.

Amanda sat in her room, anxiously tapping her foot on the floor. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with her son Nathaniel. He had been spending more and more time with his peasant friends lately, and Amanda was worried they were a bad influence on him. She was afraid they could probably make him pay off a loan for them, they can do anything to just rip him off some money.

She decided to have a discussion with Nathaniel's driver, hoping he could shed some light on the situation. When he arrived, she invited him to sit down and offered him a cup of tea.

"Thank you, ma'am," the driver said as he took a seat. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm worried about Nathaniel," Amanda said, getting straight to the point. "He's been spending a lot of time out of house and I'm concerned his friends from school might be influencing him in a negative way."

The driver nodded sympathetically. "I understand your concern, ma'am. But I assure you that Nathaniel is a good boy and he knows right from wrong."

"I'm sure he does," Amanda said. "But can you tell me where you have been going after school? And what he has been doing?"

The driver hesitated for a moment before answering. "Well, ma'am, I usually drive them to a pizza shop not too far from here. Most of the time he usually go there almost every day after school."

"A pizza shop?" Amanda repeated incredulously.

"Yes, ma'am," the driver confirmed. "Nathaniel likes to go there, I suspect, because of a girl he likes."

"A girl?" Amanda asked sharply.

"Yes, ma'am," the driver said quickly. "But there's nothing between them, I assure you. The girl apparently hates his guts."

Amanda let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear, but it was better than what she had feared.

"Thank you for telling me," she said gratefully.

"Can you also put an eye on him, and report to me his every moves, and about this girl too?" she offered. "Well, of course I'll reward you handsomely for it."

"Of course, ma'am," the driver replied with a smile.