My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 107

Chapter 107 He Hates The Camera

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In the basement of the B-wing, the photography lab smelled of sharp chemicals and old paper. Mrs. Albright stood at the front of the

room. She held a vintage silver and black film camera in her hands. She placed it on her wooden desk.

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“The midterm project requires a single, flawless portrait,” Mrs. Albright announced. Her voice echoed against the concrete walls. “You will

use thirty-five-millimeter film. No digital editing. No filters to hide the flaws. Film forces honesty. You must find a subject and strip away

their public persona. Show me the truth hiding underneath the skin.”

I stared at the black camera body resting on my desk. The metal felt cold against my palms.

The bell rang. I packed the heavy equipment into my canvas bag.

I spent the next three periods distracted. The weight of the camera in my bag served as a constant reminder of the task. I needed a subject willing to bleed for the lens. Trent Lawson bragged about his perfect profile in the hallway. Harper Vance applied a fresh coat of lip gloss in the reflection of her locker mirror. They all craved the spotlight.

The school day dragged. The massive arrangement of dark dahlias bought me a temporary reprieve from the vicious whispers. Harper Vance kept her distance. Trent Lawson refused to make eye contact in calculus. Ryder’s grand gesture provided a shield, but the tension

underneath the surface remained thick.

The bell for dismissal shrieked through the halls.

I found him by his locker in the main corridor.

Ryder leaned against the beige cinderblock wall. The scuffed leather jacket was back. The defensive, lethal scowl replaced the polished charm from my dining room. He kept a wide perimeter between himself and the passing students. He protected his space.

I stopped three feet away. The memory of the front porch hovered between us. The ghost of his lips against my forehead burned my skin. We had not spoken about his refusal. The rejection sat heavy in my chest.

He looked at me. The harsh lines of his face softened.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. The rough gravel in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

I have an assignment,” I said. I pulled the heavy camera from my bag. The strap hung from my fingers. “I need a subject for a midterm

portrait. Black and white film.”

Ryder stared at the lens. His jaw locked tight.

‘No.’

Ryder-

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13:10 Fri, Jul 10

Chapter 107 He Hates The Camera

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“I hate pictures, Raisa. I refuse to stand in front of a lens. My father hires PR teams to snap fake, smiling family photos for charity galas. I

spent my entire childhood performing for the shutter. Find someone else.”

“This is not a PR stunt. It is for my grade.” I took a step closer. I looked up into his eyes. “The project requires the truth. It requires me to

capture the real person beneath the mask. I cannot ask a stranger. I need you.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair. The frustration warred with his unyielding need to give me whatever I asked for. He let out a harsh

breath. A muscle ticked in his cheek.

“Fine. Where do we do this?”

“The old greenhouse on the edge of campus.”

We walked across the manicured lawns. The overcast sky blocked the sun. The wind bit through my uniform blouse. The overgrown grass

soaked the hems of my dark denim jeans.

We walked in silence. The dead leaves crunched beneath his heavy boots. The sprawling Crestview Prep campus felt deserted. The affluent, pristine brick buildings faded into the background as we approached the neglected edge of the school grounds. The administration forgot this place existed. It belonged to the ghosts and the weeds. It felt like the perfect location to unearth a buried

truth.

The abandoned greenhouse sat hidden behind the science building. Cracked glass panels formed the angled roof. Dead, brown vines clung to the rusted iron frames. The administration locked the doors years ago, but a broken pane near the handle allowed a hand to slip

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