My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 194

Chapter 194 Sneaking Back To The School

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Tuesday morning arrived with a thick, gray overcast. The rain stopped, but the damp chill remained suspended in the air. I sat at my small

wooden desk. The house was quiet. My mother left for her diner shift an hour ago. Ryder left before dawn to secure a meeting with his

private trust lawyer, determined to find a legal angle to break his father’s grip.

I focused on the blank sheet of college-ruled paper in front of me.

I picked up my blue ink pen. I pressed the ballpoint against the top line. I did not possess a computer or a printer. I needed to draft the document by hand. I focused on keeping my letters sharp and legible.

Formal Petition for Academic Tribunal.

Pursuant to Appendix G, Section Fourteen, Paragraph C of the Crestview Preparatory Student Handbook.

I wrote the justification in clear, concise language. I requested a public, oral examination for the biology and calculus midterms. I cited extenuating circumstances regarding the testing environment. I left a blank line at the bottom for the required senior faculty sponsor

signature.

Below that line, I drew a grid. Three columns. Fifty blank rows.

I needed student signatures.

A faculty sponsor carried immense weight, but a single teacher advocating for a suspended student looked like an isolated rebellion. The board could easily dismiss one rogue instructor. I needed to show the administration a united front. I needed to prove the student body demanded academic integrity. If I presented fifty names alongside a staff signature, the board faced a collective uprising.

I folded the paper. I slid it into the front pocket of my oversized black hoodie.

I left my house and walked two blocks to the city bus stop. I paid the exact change. I took a seat in the back row. The heavy diesel engine hummed beneath my boots. I watched the cracked pavement of the East Side transition into the smooth, manicured roads of the affluent

hills.

The bus dropped me off a mile away from the Crestview Prep campus.

I walked the remaining distance. The massive brick buildings loomed in the distance, surrounded by tall wrought-iron fences. My stomach twisted into a tight knot. Principal Miller confiscated my student identification card yesterday. He issued an indefinite suspension. If a staff member or a security guard caught me on the property, the administration possessed the right to call the local police. Trespassing charges meant the permanent end of my medical school track.

I reached the edge of the property. I avoided the main gates. Two guards in dark blue uniforms stood near the stone pillars, monitoring the incoming vehicles.

I ducked behind a thick row of manicured hedges lining the eastern perimeter. I kept my head down. The damp leaves brushed against my

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13:56 Fri, Jul 10

Chapter 194 Sneaking Back To The School

hoodie. I navigated the perimeter until I reached the delivery zone behind the cafeteria.

:))

A massive white food service truck sat parked near the loading dock. The driver stood on the asphalt, holding a clipboard and talking to the kitchen manager. The loading bay doors stood wide open.

I waited. The driver turned his back to inspect a pallet of cardboard boxes. The manager looked down at the clipboard.

I broke from the tree line. I sprinted across the wet asphalt. My sneakers slapped the ground. I reached the loading dock and scrambled up the concrete ledge. I slipped past the stacks of frozen food boxes and ducked into the dark, narrow service corridor behind the main

kitchen.

The heavy smell of bleach and stale cooking oil filled my lungs.

I crept down the hallway. I bypassed the boiler room and the janitorial closets. I needed to reach the B-wing.

The B-wing sat in the oldest section of the school. The administration refused to renovate the area. The lockers featured dents and peeling blue paint. The fluorescent lights flickered in a constant, erratic rhythm. The wealthy elite avoided this corridor. The A-wing contained the pristine science labs and the sunny courtyards. The B-wing belonged to the scholarship students.

I pushed a heavy metal fire door open.

I stepped into the B-wing stairwell. The loud, shrill sound of the bell echoed through the concrete shaft. Lunch period.

I climbed the steps. I pulled the heavy hood over my head, shadowing my face. I opened the door to the second-floor corridor.

The hallway hummed with noise. Dozens of students leaned against the battered blue lockers. They sat on the scuffed linoleum floor, eating sandwiches from cheap plastic containers or foil wrappers. They lacked the funds to purchase the catered sushi and organic salads sold in the main cafeteria.

This was my community. I spent four years eating my lunch on this exact floor. I shared test notes with these teenagers. I tutored them in chemistry. I belonged here.

I took a deep breath. I stepped out of the shadows and walked down the center of the hall.

A sophomore boy sitting near a water fountain looked up. He froze. His sandwich dropped to his lap. He elbowed the girl sitting next to him. She turned her head. Her eyes went wide.

The ripple effect moved down the corridor with terrifying speed.

The conversations died. The laughter stopped. The ambient noise of the lunch period vanished, replaced by a thick, suffocating silence. Dozens of eyes locked onto my face. They recognized the suspended girl from the leaked photograph. They recognized the fraud.

I pushed my hood back. I did not hide. I stopped in the center of the intersection, standing under a flickering light panel.

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