All Chapters of My Fake Boyfriend Is My Biggest Rival: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

I chose to give my response in writing before I agreed to sit in a room with Fiona. The welfare officer said there was no requirement for a joint meeting, and I believed her because she offered another appointment without making refusal sound unreasonable. I wanted to hear whether Fiona would acknowledge what she had done when there was no corridor audience to impress. I also wanted a record of my own account that didn't depend on how well I spoke when angry. My mother read the page for spelling, left the sentences alone and handed it back with the pen uncapped.Fiona arrived with a parent, though the adults spoke with the deputy head separately before the short meeting we had both agreed to. I sat beside the welfare officer in a room used for interviews with visiting families. There was a display of student artwork on the wall and a pot of pens that looked too new to belong to anyone. Fiona took the chair opposite me. She wore the same school uniform I had seen her in for years, but

The email arrived while I was helping my mother find a receipt she was certain she had left beside the kettle. We had checked the drawer twice and the recycling once. My phone lit up on the counter, and I glanced at it with the distracted impatience reserved for interruptions that weren't helping. Then I saw the programme's name. I put down the paper in my hand without folding it. My mother stopped speaking halfway through a complaint about shops that printed receipts on paper designed to fade before you got home.I opened the message standing up because sitting down would have made the moment feel prepared. The first paragraph offered me a fellowship place, subject to the final academic conditions listed in the attached letter. I read the sentence again and then a third time, waiting for a qualification that would turn offered into considered. There was one: I still had to meet the stated results for university entry. There were also deadlines for acceptance and accommodation. None o

The correction reached my inbox before the first bell, in an email that contained none of the dramatic words people had used to share the accusation. The school had completed enough of its enquiry to confirm that the circulating audio omitted material which changed its meaning. It also confirmed that I had not acted on Luca's behalf in recruitment matters. I read the message outside my locker while students passed with wet coats and unfinished breakfasts. Nobody stopped. For weeks I had imagined the moment somebody official said what we had been saying. It arrived while a boy beside me complained about losing his calculator.The deputy head had asked Luca and me to review the parts that referred to our private conversation before the correction went to the recipients we had identified. We met separately. In my appointment, I checked that the text explained the hypothetical discussion about medical clearance without quoting the rest of what we had said. The school wasn't releasing the

The residence form asked whether I preferred quiet accommodation, a question that felt designed to make everyone imagine an unreasonable neighbour before they had even arrived. I selected yes, then worried that I had described myself as somebody who would object to a kettle after nine. My mother said the alternative was not automatically a nightclub. I told her she wasn't helping, and she pointed out that she had only been invited upstairs to read the deposit instructions. We returned to those. The programme could arrange the initial payment through its funding process if I submitted the form by the stated date.I had planned to complete everything before Luca's university visit ended, so I wouldn't spend Thursday checking the clock. The plan worked until the portal rejected an attachment without explaining why. I renamed the file, checked its size and tried again. It failed. For twenty minutes I became furious with a progress bar instead of missing anyone, which was not the healthies

Luca asked to meet on a Sunday when neither of us had a match, an interview or a school meeting to use as the reason. I read the message twice because its simplicity made it harder to hide from. He suggested the café near the bus station and said an hour would be fine if that was all I had. I wanted to tell him I had the whole afternoon, then imagined how that might sound. In the end, I said three o'clock worked. My mother watched me change my shoes before leaving and wisely restricted her comment to the weather.He was already there, sitting at a table where the chair opposite him didn't face the door. I noticed the choice because I had spent so many meals watching people arrive. He stood when he saw me, then seemed to remember that standing made the meeting look formal and sat down too quickly. I smiled before I reached the chair. The awkwardness belonged to both of us, which helped. He had ordered water but waited for me before buying anything else. I chose tea and a pastry I didn'