The President’s Daughter Mocked Me at the Reunion, Then a Stranger Changed Everything

Roots in the Soil

My name is Samuel Davis. I’m not been very good at making conversations with people since I was a kid.

I’m introverted and don’t have many friends. I can’t even manage a part-time job interview properly.

So, I’ve been helping my grandpa with his work since I was young. My grandpa is a farmer, and his house and farm are close to mine.

I live with my mom in a single-parent household. Because she has a weak constitution, I’ve been working to contribute to the family income.

My grandpa once told me. “Samuel, you’re doing great. It’s a big help having a man around.”

Being pessimistic and not fitting in at school, even getting bullied by the girls, having a place where I belonged meant everything to me. When I became a middle school student, I started studying farming on my own.

The stories from my grandpa are enlightening and much more interesting than schoolwork. When the time I had to decide my future, I started thinking about seriously becoming a farmer.

I probably wouldn’t do well even if I proceeded to high school. Since our family is poor, it would be better to start working as soon as possible.

If I could someday inherit the farm, I could alleviate the burdens on my grandpa and mom. So, after graduating from middle school, I decided to work as a farmer.

But one day, my grandpa said to me with a solemn expression. “You’re a smart kid. You can make it as a farmer, but that’s not enough.”

“Huh?” I asked.

“In the old days, you could run a business as long as your crops were good, even if you were a silent person. But now, that won’t cut it. Smooth talkers get all the good deals.”

In other words, it would be tough for an introvert like me to make good money. Indeed, if two people were selling the same quality vegetables, I’d want to buy them from the one who is more sociable.

Nowadays, even farming has entered an era where it’s all about networking and aggressive marketing. It’s meaningless to grow delicious vegetables if you can’t sell them.

I need to overcome my shyness. One day, as I was having such thoughts, I received a notice for a middle school reunion.

I wasn’t particularly excited, but my grandpa said. “This might be a good opportunity to get over your shyness. Go give it a shot.”

So, I decided to go.

The President’s Daughter

The venue for the reunion was booked out, and it was bustling with a bunch of people. When I entered, I was alone, just looking around without anyone to talk to.

Then I noticed a very beautiful woman at the front. She was stunning and had a great figure.

She was wearing a brown dress, and that was very chic, elegant. Did we have someone like her in our class?

It’s been quite a while since we graduated, and I don’t remember her name. But she probably doesn’t remember me either.

As I was thinking that, I was tapped on the back. “Samuel.”

“Michelle?” I said.

It was Michelle Johnson, a classmate from elementary school. In our hometown, there’s no one who doesn’t know her.

Her father is the president of a large corporation. She’s the typical president’s daughter.

For some reason, Michelle came and sat next to me. Then other classmates began to gather around Michelle.

All of them had grown up to be very fashionable. I felt embarrassed in my boring attire.

Though I’d been trying to keep out of the conversation, Michelle suddenly raised her voice. “Speaking of which, weren’t you riding a tractor the other day? Duh.”

“Yeah, I’ve been farming since I graduated from middle school.” I replied.

“Really? You’re a farmer right after middle school? No wonder when you walked in, I thought you were some grandpa! Hilarious! Ha!”

She was loudly saying this in front of everyone intentionally. This made me feel like all the people in this store knew about it.

The others looked at me with a mix of pity and cruel expression, like they’d found some entertaining tidbit.

Michelle said. “I heard that even farmers are fashionable these days, but you’re totally different, Samuel.”

“I, I don’t really have many clothes.” I said.

“I thought so! Ha ha!” Michelle led the laughter.

Led by Michelle, everyone laughed all together. This was typical of her.

She’d been teasing and bullying me for as long as I could remember. I could understand it during our school days, but I couldn’t figure out why a person like her would still target someone like me.

Then one of our female classmates spoke to her. “Hey Michelle, isn’t that famous actress going to be in a commercial for your father’s company? Do you get to meet her?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal.” Michelle replied.

“Amazing! Have you ever met her? She was in a magazine recently.” The classmate asked.

A lively conversation began, and once again, I was left out. Then Michelle said to everyone.

“Hey, why don’t we get together for drinks again with the same group? Let’s meet next month!”

“Sounds great! Byman!” Someone shouted.

“Hey Samuel, you should come too. I’m sure…” Michelle said.

The moment she called me, I could almost hear the unspoken “why him?” from everyone. Despite the fact that she had always mocked me, I wondered why she would want to see me.

“I need to use the restroom.” I said.

Unable to bear the cold stares, I left the table. A few seconds later, laughter broke out at the table.

I felt like they were laughing at me, and it weighed heavily on me. When I returned from the restroom, I didn’t go back to the previous table.

The Woman in the Brown Dress

I sat in a corner drinking alone. Then the woman in the brown dress who was sitting next to me earlier gave me a warm smile.

I wished I could strike up a conversation smoothly at times like this, but I was at a loss for words. As I sat there in silence with my glass in hand, she started the conversation.

“You’re Samuel Davis, right? I overheard earlier. Are you a farmer now?”

Apparently, she had heard my conversation with Michelle earlier. I felt embarrassed, but she didn’t seem to be making fun of me.

“My grandpa runs a farm, and I hope to take it over someday.” I told her.

“That sounds wonderful.” She said.

“No, no, I can only help out a little for now.” I replied.

I was surprised to find myself able to continue the conversation despite being mumbling. But that time abruptly ended.

Michelle had returned. “Samuel, are you hitting on her? Come on, farming folks can’t do that!”

Laughter echoed throughout the store at her comment. She didn’t stop there.

“Hey, hey, I heard that farmers eat things like locusts. Is that real?”

“Um, absolutely not. That’s disgusting.” Someone insulted.

My situation kept getting worse and worse. I felt terrible for ruining the mood because of me, especially for the woman in the brown dress.

She had the kindness to approach someone like me. I thought about leaving the place.

Then that woman in the brown dress said something unexpected. “I’ve eaten locusts before.”

“What?” I asked.

“I’ve also eaten crickets. They tasted like shrimp, and they were really good.” She said.