My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 222

Chapter 222 Students Sit In The Courtyard

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“The principal speaks the truth, Chairman Davis noted. He looked at the other board members. The modern rules prohibit suspended students from filing administrative appeals. Allowing this tribunal creates a dangerous precedent. It tells the student body they can break our code of conduct and still demand special privileges.”

“Appendix G predates Section Four,” I argued. I leaned forward. I poured every ounce of my desperation into my words. “The founding documents grant the tribunal right to any student. The clause does not list exceptions for pending disciplinary actions. It is an universal

academic right.

“The modern rules supersede the old appendices, Miller dismissed my argument with a wave of his hand. We update the handbook to maintain order. You broke the order. You forfeit the right.”

I stared at the principal. The sheer injustice of his logic burned my throat.

He used the blackmail against me. Chloe Vance forced me into the fake contract. She leaked the photograph. She created the scandal that triggered my suspension. Now, the administration used that exact suspension to block my only path to redemption. They built a flawless trap out of red tape and bureaucratic bylaws.

1 thought about the shredded server logs.

I could have avoided this room. I could have dropped the proof of Chloe’s ghostwritten essay on this mahogany table. The board would scramble to protect their Ivy League statistics. They would forget my suspension. They would hand me the Valedictorian rank to keep the

peace.

I chose the hard path. I chose the honest path. And the honest path led straight into a brick wall.

‘I motion to dismiss the petition, Miller announced. He looked around the table, gathering nods of agreement from the elite members. “The petition violates the active suspension clause. We deny the request for the Academic Tribunal. The failing midterm grades remain permanent. The suspension remains in effect until Friday’s expulsion hearing.

The board members picked up their pens. They prepared to sign the official dismissal forms. They prepared to end my academic career.

Mr. Harrison lowered his head. He recognized the defeat. He could not fight the entire board on a procedural technicality.

I felt the air leave my lungs. The room began to spin. The crushing weight of the failure pressed me down into the wooden chair. I lost. I sacrificed everything, and I lost.

“Wait, Ryder said.

His voice cut through the stifling atmosphere. He stepped away from my chair. He walked toward the massive bay windows lining the far

wall of the boardroom.

‘I told you to remain silent, Chairman Davis warned. He raised his pen.

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Chapter 222 Students Sit In The Courtyard

“Look outside, Ryder instructed. He pointed a long finger at the glass.

Miller scoffed. “We are conducting official business. We do not possess time for your distractions.”

“I said look outside, Ryder repeated. The lethal command in his tone forced the room into silence.

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Chairman Davis frowned. He placed his pen on the mahogany table. He turned his leather chair toward the bay windows. The other board

members followed his gaze. I pushed myself up from the wooden chair. I walked to Ryder’s side.

I looked through the thick glass.

The boardroom overlooked the main campus courtyard. The stone pathways connected the science wing to the administration building.

Usually, the courtyard sat empty during the morning lecture periods.

Today, the courtyard was not empty.

A sea of students filled the stone plaza. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the cold gray morning. They did not shout. They did not hold

violent protests. They stood in total, unbroken silence.

I scanned the faces in the crowd.

I saw Hugo standing in the front row. He wore his faded winter coat. He held a thick, dark blue Crestview student handbook in his hands.

Beside him stood Sofia. She held a large piece of white poster board. The black marker text read: Honor The Handbook. Grant The Tribunal.

Behind them stood the sophomore boy from the water fountain. Behind him stood the entire junior class of the B-wing. Dozens of

scholarship students occupied the courtyard.

But it was not just the B-wing.

I saw students from the A-wing. I saw girls who sat at Chloe Vance’s lunch table. I saw boys from the debate team. I saw the quiet students who spent four years watching the affluent elite bully the working class. They witnessed the relentless cruelty. They witnessed Trent Lawson throw money on a wet garage floor. They witnessed the rigged system.

They decided they had enough.

The united front did not shatter. It multiplied.

A low hum started at the back of the massive crowd. The sound rolled forward, picking up volume. It was not a chant. It was the sound of a hundred heavy textbooks dropping onto the stone pavement. They dropped their bags. They refused to attend their morning classes.

They staged a massive, undeniable sit-in.

Principal Miller stood up from his chair. The blood drained from his face. He stared at the courtyard in pure shock. He lost control of his

pristine campus.

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