My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 73

Chapter 73 Distance Growing After a Dangerous Rumor

I sat on a hard wooden stool in the back row. My textbook rested open on the black resin counter, displaying a complex diagram of

covalent bonds.

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Vanessa’s words played on a relentless, crushing loop inside my skull.

I gripped the edge of the lab table. My palms were slick with cold sweat. I tried to apply basic logic to the situation. I tried to build a timeline that made sense. Sophomore year. Three months missing. The entire school accepted the story of an exclusive European boarding school. No one questioned it. Richard Steinmann possessed enough money to rewrite reality, and he used it to erase a near-fatal assault

from his son’s permanent record.

A guy in the front row dropped a heavy textbook. The thick binding hit the floor with a loud, sharp crack.

I flinched, my shoulders jumping toward my ears. A harsh gasp scraped up my throat.

The sound did not register as a falling book. My panicked brain supplied the sound of heavy metal striking bone.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing the heels of my hands against my temples. I needed to breathe. I needed to separate the boy I knew from the monster Vanessa described. But the terrifying truth was that I did not know him. We had spent weeks playing a game of pretend. I knew his coffee order. I knew he possessed a brilliant mind for history. I knew he tutored a little girl named Mia.

But I also knew he punched a metal locker hard enough to cave it in just because a guy insulted me. I had seen the unhinged, feral rage in his dark eyes. I had watched his knuckles bleed. He possessed the capacity for violence.

The dismissal bell shrieked. I shoved my textbook into my canvas backpack and hurried out of the classroom. I kept my head down, navigating the crowded C-wing with rigid, mechanical steps. I needed to reach my locker. I needed to grab my coat and leave the campus before the scheduled end-of-day performance.

I turned the corner into the B-wing.

He was already there.

Ryder leaned against the metal bay next to locker 412. He wore his heavy, scuffed leather jacket over a plain black t-shirt. His dark hair was messy, falling across his forehead. He stared at the floor, his broad shoulders relaxed, waiting for our daily routine.

For the past three weeks, the sight of him waiting by my locker brought a rush of warmth to my chest.

I stopped walking. I stood ten feet away in the middle of the shifting crowd.

I looked at his hands. The heavy silver rings glinted under the harsh fluorescent lights. I pictured those large, calloused hands gripping a steel tire iron. I pictured the sheer, terrifying force of his swing. A wave of nausea hit me so hard I tasted bile.

Ryder lifted his head.

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Chapter 73 Distance Growing After a Dangerous Rumor

His hazel eyes locked onto my face. The bored, indifferent mask he wore for the hallway vanished. A spark of genuine warmth ignited in

the golden shards of his irises. He pushed off the lockers, standing to his full, towering height.

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“Hey,’ he murmured.

His voice was a low rumble that barely carried over the ambient noise.

I forced my legs to move. I closed the distance, keeping my eyes fixed on the silver dial of my locker. I spun the combination, my fingers

stiff and clumsy.

“Hi, I managed to say. The word sounded thin, brittle, and entirely hollow.

Ryder frowned. I felt the weight of his stare tracking my movements. I pulled my locker door open, grabbing my coat from the hook.

“You look pale, he noted.

He stepped into my personal space. He boxed me in against the metal doors, effectively blocking my escape route.

I have a headache, I lied, keeping my gaze focused on the zipper of my backpack.

“Did something happen in gym?” he asked. The protective edge sharpened his tone. He scanned the hallway, his eyes narrowing, searching

the crowd for a threat.

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