My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121 Alone Above The City Lights

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Ryder reached across the crushed gravel. He grabbed the thick, dark gray wool blanket. He pulled the edge of the heavy fabric over my

legs. His knuckles brushed my kneecap. The contact sent a jolt of heat racing up my thigh, chasing away the chill in the air.

Below us, the city transformed into a grid of artificial fire. Streetlamps flickered to life in long, intersecting lines. Neon signs burned red and blue against the gathering dark. The chaotic noise of the traffic merged into a constant, distant hum.

We sat in peace. Ryder shifted his weight. He lay back against the roof. The wool blanket buffered the hard tar. He rested his hands on his

stomach and stared at the clearing sky.

I mirrored his movement 1 lay down on my back.

The limited space on the blanket forced a tight proximity. My left shoulder pressed against his right bicep. The heat radiating from his massive frame countered the cold wind. Our breathing synchronized.

The sky turned pitch black. The city smog hid the weaker stars, but the brightest constellations pierced the darkness.

“You have a strange hiding spot, I said. My voice carried over the rushing wind.

It serves a specific purpose. He replied. His deep tone vibrated against my side.

He turned his head His cheek rested against the rough wool. His hazel eyes found my face in the dark. The silver light from the moon caught the fading yellow bruise on his jaw.

I like the boy behind the mask,” I stated.

Ryder let out a ragged breath. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. The muscle in his jaw ticked. He absorbed the confession. He treated my words like a vital lifeline. He did not offer a sarcastic joke. He accepted the truth.

We turned our attention back to the open sky. The silence wrapped around us, thick and comforting-

I scanned the scattered points of light. I traced invisible lines between the glowing dots The vastness of the universe always brought me comfort. It made high school problems shrink. It reduced AP exams and social hierarchies to meaningless dust. The stars operated on strict laws of physics. They offered a predictable, enduring truth. The celestial bodies did not care about legacy names or academic

scholarships

Do you know the constellations? Ryder asked.

“I know a few,” I said. I raised my right arm. I pointed my index finger toward a cluster of stars sitting high above the neon glow of the city skyline. “That is Orion. The hunter.

Ryder followed my line of sight. “The three stars in a row form the belt.”

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Chapter 121 Alone Above The City Lights

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“Yes, I confirmed 1 kept my arm raised. I mapped the shape in the empty air. Most people focus on the belt. They assume the belt

represents the mast important part of the pattern. But the sword holds the true secret.”

“The sword, Ryder repeated. The rough gravel in his voice scraped against the silence.

I prepared to explain the science. I prepared to share the specific detail I memorized a long time ago. I loved the astronomy unit. I

possessed a habit of collecting obscure facts. I found safety in knowledge.

Ryder spoke before I could form the sentence.

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The middle star in the sword is not a star at all, Ryder stated. His voice sounded calm and methodical. “It is the Orion Nebula. A massive

cloud of dust and gas. It acts as a stellar nursery. New stars form inside the gas right now. It looks like a single point of light to the naked

eye, but a telescope reveals a storm of creation.”

I froze.

My raised arm dropped to my side. My hand hit the wool blanket with a soft thud.

My heart stalled in my chest. The breath rushed out of my lungs. The cold wind whipped across the roof, but my blood ran freezing cold

for a different reason.

I stared at the side of his face. He kept his eyes fixed on the sky. He did not blink.

He recited the exact phrasing. He used the precise, distinct words. A massive cloud of dust and gas. A stellar nursery. A storm of creation.

My brain snapped back in time. The memory hit me with the force of a physical blow.

Four years ago. I was fourteen. Freshman year.

I sat in the back corner of the Crestview Prep library. The administration assigned a senior girl named Chloe to tutor me in earth science. I needed to maintain a flawless grade point average to keep my new scholarship. I felt desperate, nervous, and overwhelmed by the affluent wealth of the student body. I brought a massive, heavy encyclopedia to the round wooden table. I opened the thick book to the page on the Orion constellation. I pointed to the sword.

I recited that exact fact to Chloe. I used the metaphor of the stellar nursery. I called the nebula a storm of creation. I crafted the specific, poetic phrasing for my freshman science presentation. I worked on the speech for three days. I memorized the cadence of the words. I wanted to impress the teacher. I wanted to prove my worth to the school.

Ryder Steinmann did not exist in my orbit four years ago. He was an upperclassman. He possessed a chaotic, violent reputation. He spent his time in detention or fighting in the East Side. He did not sit in the library. He did not talk to freshman scholarship students.

I never spoke a single word to him before the chemistry lab incident this semester. I assumed I was invisible to him. I assumed he viewed

me as a background extra in his turbulent high school life.

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