My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 71

Chapter 71 Jealous Past Returning Without Warning

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The biting April wind burned the back of my throat.

I pushed my legs harder, my sneakers striking the red rubber of the outdoor track in a steady, punishing rhythm. Fourth-period physical education was usually a nightmare of forced team sports, but today Coach Miller had ordered a two-mile run.

Since the photograph hit the front page of the Crestview Chronicle, Ryder had completely vanished.

He didn’t wait by my locker. He didn’t sit next to me in European History. He was a ghost, haunting the edges of my peripheral vision. He was terrified of the exposure, terrified of the raw devotion captured in that grainy black-and-white ink. He was pulling away, and the space he left behind felt like a massive vacuum.

I crossed the finish line, my chest heaving, and bent at the waist. I rested my hands on my knees, dragging oxygen into my burning lungs.

The rest of the girls in my class were already heading toward the gymnasium doors, clustered in tight groups, complaining about the cold. I waited a few minutes, letting the crowd thin out before 1 followed them inside.

The transition into the girls’ locker room was an assault on the senses. The air was thick with humidity, the harsh smell of chlorine from the adjacent pool, and a cloud of cheap vanilla body spray. Metal locker doors clanged shut. Voices echoed off the pale, tiled walls.

I walked to the far corner, to my assigned locker, and spun the combination dial. I stripped off my damp gym shirt and pulled my pristine white uniform blouse over my head. I moved with rigid, mechanical precision. I just wanted to get dressed, grab my canvas backpack, and disappear into the cafeteria.

The warning bell shrieked in the hallway.

The locker room emptied in a chaotic rush. Backpacks zipped, sneakers squeaked against the wet tiles, and the heavy double doors swung shut. Within seconds, the loud, overlapping chatter faded into a quiet.

I sat on the wooden bench, tying the laces of my loafers.

‘Cute picture in the paper.”

I froze, the shoelace slipping from my fingers. I lifted my head.

Vanessa Thorne stood at the end of my locker bay.

She was a senior. She operated in the shadowed, rebellious circles Ryder used to dominate before our fake dating contract began. Her uniform skirt was rolled high on her thighs, a clear violation of the dress code she dared anyone to enforce. Dark, smudged eyeliner framed her sharp eyes. Her fingernails were painted a chipped, fading black. She possessed a careless, intimidating edge that made the freshmen scatter when she walked down the hall.

Excuse me?” I asked. My voice sounded thin and entirely too fragile in the cavernous room.

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12:55 Fri, Jul 10

Chapter 71 Jealous Past Returning Without Warning

Vanessa pushed off the metal lockers. She walked toward me, the heavy tread of her leather boots scuffing the tiles. The Chronicle. The front page shot. You two looked like a tragic indie movie poster. It almost made me sick.”

“It was just a photograph,” I said, keeping my posture. I reached for my backpack, eager to put distance between us.

Vanessa stepped into the narrow space between the wooden benches, completely blocking my path to the exit. She crossed her arms over her chest. A faint, lingering scent of stale cigarette smoke and cherry lip gloss radiated from her.

“It was a statement, Vanessa corrected. She tilted her head, her dark eyes tracking every micro-expression on my face. “I have to admit, Petrova, I did not think you had the stamina. When the rumors started, we all placed bets on how long it would take him to chew you up

and spit you out. You are way out of your depth.”

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“I need to get to lunch, I stated, gripping the strap of my bag.

“He likes the good girl act,” she continued, ignoring my dismissal. “He likes the stark contrast. It makes him feel like he isn’t completely ruined. For a little while, anyway. He likes to play pretend.”

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