My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 148

Chapter 148 Waking Up With No Fear

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The morning light pierced the gap in my thin bedroom curtains. The bright, yellow beam hit my face. I opened my eyes. Saturday. The

small digital clock on my desk read nine.

I lay still on my faded quilt. The house sat in total silence. The events of the Crestview Formal rushed back into my mind with staggering force. The massive crystal chandeliers spinning overhead. The quiet, staring crowd parting like the sea. The freezing concrete balcony. The devastating, desperate kiss in the dark.

My fingers brushed my lower lip. The skin remained tender to the touch. A phantom heat sparked deep in my chest. We tore the fake dating contract apart on that terrace. We tore down the protective walls. He wrapped his heavy wool jacket around my shivering shoulders and claimed my heart without a single apology.

I pushed the heavy blankets aside. I sat up on the edge of the mattress. My bare feet touched the cold wooden floorboards.

I looked across the cramped space. The custom midnight blue silk gown hung from the corner of my open closet door. The tiny, dark beads caught the morning sun, flashing like trapped stars. The dress survived the night. I survived the night. But the girl who put that expensive armor on yesterday evening ceased to exist. I changed. The terrified scholarship student who hid behind blue ink and rigid rules vanished into the cold spring wind.

I stood up. I walked out of the bedroom and into the narrow hallway. The old floorboards creaked beneath my steps. The rich, dark smell of roasted coffee beans drifted from the kitchen.

I stepped through the doorway.

My mother sat at the chipped formica table. She held a ceramic mug in both hands, letting the steam warm her face. She wore her faded pink bathrobe. She looked up when I entered. The deep exhaustion lined the corners of her brown eyes, a permanent mark from her double shifts at the diner. Yet, a warm, genuine smile stretched across her mouth.

“Good morning,” my mother said. Her voice sounded thick with sleep. “You came home right at midnight. You kept the curfew.

“Ryder kept the promise,” I replied.

I didn’t hear his truck pull up,” she noted. She raised a skeptical eyebrow over the rim of her mug.

“He parked down the block,” I explained, pulling a clean mug from the overhead cabinet. “He said he didn’t want the diesel engine waking up the neighborhood.”

“Considerate, she mused. “Or terrified of me.”

Probably both.

I poured the dark, steaming coffee from the glass pot. I did not add milk or sugar. I needed the bitter taste to clear the lingering haze from my mind I walked back to the table and sat in the plastic chair across from her. I wrapped my hands around the warm ceramic.

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Chapter 148 Waking Up With No Fear

My mother studied my face in the morning light. She tracked the subtle shifts in my posture. She noticed the missing tension in my

shoulders. She noticed the steady rhythm of my breathing.

“The dance went well, she stated. It was a firm observation, not a question.

“It went well.” I traced the rim of my mug with my thumb. “We walked through the front doors together. Harper Vance tried to stare us down from the red carpet. We ignored her. The entire school watched us walk to the center of the gymnasium. Nobody laughed. Nobody

pointed.

“Did you trip on the silk hem?”

“No.” A small, sudden laugh escaped my chest. The sound felt foreign and light. “I followed his lead. He knows how to waltz. He guided my

steps.”

She took a sip of her coffee. “You look different today, Raisa. The heavy cloud is gone.”

I met her gaze. I did not hide behind excuses or vague deflections. I owed her the complete truth. She sacrificed her life to secure my

future. She deserved my honesty.

“The arrangement is over, Mom,” I said. “We broke the rules. We escaped the crowded gymnasium and stepped out onto the senior terrace. We talked about the massive gap between our worlds.”

“What rules?” she asked, lowering her mug. The humor faded from her expression, replaced by a sharp maternal focus. “Raisa, what exactly did you two agree to?”

“We wrote a contract, I confessed. The absurdity of it hit me full force in the morning light. ‘On college-ruled paper. We mapped out boundaries and parameters to survive the rest of the semester without ruining his record or my standing.”

“A written contract? My mother let out a short, sharp breath of disbelief. “You tried to logic your way out of a storm with a piece of

paper?

“It felt safer.”

“And now?” she prompted.

And now the paper is useless. He told me the gap does not matter. He told me the rumors do not matter.” My voice dropped to a quiet

whisper. He kissed me.”

My mother let out a slow, steady breath. She set her ceramic mug on the table with a soft clink. She reached across the chipped surface and covered my left hand with her right. Her rough, calloused skin offered immense, grounded comfort.

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