My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 3

My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy

Chapter 3 My Scholarship Is On the Line

I walked to the door marked Margaret Gable, Senior Counselor. I knocked twice. The wood was solid, heavy.

‘Come in.

82

I pushed the door open. Mrs. Gable’s office was suffocatingly warm. A small space heater hummed beneath her desk, baking the smell of her stale vanilla coffee and the overwhelming lavender plug-in on her wall. She sat behind a massive glass-topped desk, her hands folded

over a file folder.

My file.

“Sit down, Raisa,” she said. Her voice was perfectly measured, devoid of any warmth.

I lowered myself into the leather chair opposite her. The leather creaked loudly in the quiet room. I placed my backpack on the floor and folded my hands in my lap, digging my thumbnails into my index fingers to stop the shaking.

Mrs. Gable adjusted her silver wire-rimmed glasses. She looked at me for a long moment. It wasn’t a look of concern. It was the look of someone assessing a damaged piece of property.

“Raisa, you are one of our brightest students,” she began, her tone smooth and practiced. “Your academic record is impeccable. You are currently the front-runner for Valedictorian.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gable.” My voice came out as a raspy whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Thank you.”

“However,” she continued, smoothly ignoring my interruption, “Crestview Academy expects more from its students than just high test scores. We expect a certain standard of conduct. A commitment to the integrity of the institution.”

She tapped her manicured fingernail against the folder.

‘I’m not sure I understand,” I lied. I kept my face entirely blank. A mask of polite confusion.

“It has come to the administration’s attention that there may be some… distractions… affecting your judgment.” Mrs. Gable leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. “Whispers. Unsavory rumors regarding your interactions with a member of the faculty.”

The walls of the small office seemed to press inward. The lavender scent became cloying, sticking to the back of my throat. I fought the

urge to gag.

“Rumors are just rumors, Mrs. Gable,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I have never behaved inappropriately with anyone at this

school.

“Perhaps not, she agreed far too quickly. “But perception is reality at Crestview, Raisa. When a student’s behavior invites this kind of scrutiny, it reflects poorly on all of us.”

1/3

12:36 Fri, Jul 10

Chapter 3 My Scholarship Is On the Line

She opened the folder. Inside, I saw my scholarship agreement. The dense paragraphs of legalese that dictated my survival.

82

“Let me be perfectly clear, Mrs. Gable said, dropping the diplomatic tone. Her eyes hardened into two chips of flint. Your scholarship is funded by an alumni endowment. That board requires its recipients to maintain flawless standing-academically and socially. If there is even a shadow of a scandal, if the parents of paying students express discomfort with your presence here, the board will withdraw your

funding. Immediately.”

The air rushed out of my lungs. I felt dizzy, lightheaded.

“I haven’t done anything wrong, I repeated, but the words sounded weak, pathetic.

“That is irrelevant, she snapped softly. “What matters is what people are saying. And right now, they are saying you are trading favors for

grades. If this narrative continues, if this reaches the Dean’s desk officially… I cannot protect you.”

She closed the folder and slid it toward the center of the desk, right to the edge, as if pushing my future away from her.

“You have until the end of the week to ensure this narrative changes, Raisa. You need to prove to the student body, and by extension their parents, that these rumors are entirely unfounded. You need to show them that your attentions are focused appropriately. On someone

your own age.”

I stared at her. “You want me to…”

“I want you to fix your image,” she interrupted, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Find a way to make them look at something else. Because if this rumor is still breathing by Monday morning, you will be packing out your locker. Do you understand?”

A cold, heavy stone settled in the pit of my stomach. She wasn’t asking for the truth. She was asking for a show. She didn’t care if I was

innocent; she only cared if I was quiet.

“I understand,” I whispered.

“Good.” Mrs. Gable offered a tight, artificial smile. “You may go.”

I stood up. My legs felt like lead. I picked up my backpack, the weight of it dragging my shoulder down. I turned and walked out of the office, stepping back onto the thick navy carpet.

I walked blindly down the hallway. The bell rang for fifth period, but I didn’t care. I pushed through the heavy double doors leading to the student courtyard, needing fresh air before I suffocated.

The late-morning sun hit my face, bright and harsh. The courtyard was mostly empty, save for a few students cutting class near the bleachers. The air smelled of damp earth and cut grass.

I collapsed onto a concrete bench beneath a large oak tree. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs, trying to

hold myself together.

2/3

12:36 Fri, Jul 10

Chapter 3 My Scholarship Is On the Line

Find a way to make them look at something else.

I needed a distraction. I needed a lie so loud it would drown out Harper Vance. I needed the student body to believe I was involved with

someone else. Someone completely incompatible with a middle-aged math teacher.

I squeezed my eyes shut, a single, hot tear escaping and tracking down my cheek. I wiped it away fiercely, smearing it into my skin. I

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify