Page 71 of Faking It with the Bad Boy

"Was what? A romantic entanglement that just happened to coincide with remarkable academic improvement?"

Through her window, I could see the hockey rink where the team practiced without their captain. Jack was across campus in his own interrogation with the Athletic Department.

My phone buzzed silently: "Coach says I'm 'compromising team dynamics.' Apparently, being interested in both hockey and academics is suspicious. How's your meeting?"

Before I could respond, Dean Williams cleared her throat.

"There are concerns," she continued, "about the nature of Mr. Morrison's sudden interest in medical history. Some suggest it might be performative."

The word hit like a body check. "Performative?"

"It wouldn't be the first time a student showed temporary interest in a subject to impress someone." She shuffled papers. "His previous pattern of behavior suggests—"

"His previous pattern of behavior," I interrupted, surprising us both, "includes leading his team to playoffs while maintaining a 3.8 GPA. It includes spending hours researching Victorian medical practices because he genuinely finds them fascinating. It includes—"

"It includes a rather public display of unprofessional conduct in the museum."

My phone buzzed again: "They're questioning everything. Every grade. Every game. Like I can't possibly be good at both."

"The board meets tomorrow," Dean Williams said. "To discuss appropriate actions regarding both the mentorship program and your position at the museum."

Through the window, I watched the hockey team run drills without Jack. Watched the museum staff reorganize exhibitswithout me. Watched our carefully built world start to separate back into its proper pieces.

But then another text: "Whatever they say, whatever they think - I know who I am now. Because of you. With you. And I'm not going back to pretending."

A knock at the door interrupted my response. Dr. Pierce entered, followed by several board members.

"Dean Williams," she said. "We've completed our review of Mr. Morrison's academic record."

My heart stopped.

"And?" Dean Williams prompted.

"His work is exceptional." Dr. Pierce's voice held that same note from the museum - a reluctant impression beneath disapproval. "His analysis of Civil War medical practices, in particular, shows genuine understanding and original research. If anything, his grades may be lower than deserved due to his initial attempts to hide his academic interests."

I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"However," she continued, "the question of appropriate boundaries remains. The board must consider the precedent this sets. The impact on institutional integrity. The—"

My phone lit up one more time: "They can question everything except how I feel about you. That's the one thing I know is real. That's the one thing worth fighting for."

And maybe that was the real test - not what they believed, but what we knew to be true. What we were willing to fight for.

I stood, gathering my documentation. "Dr. Pierce? Dean Williams? With respect, I'd like to address the full board. Tomorrow. With Jack."

"Ms. Chen—"

"Because if you're going to question our integrity, our achievements, our relationship - you should do it to our faces. Together. Since that's how we earned everything they're trying to take away."

The library was quiet that night, most students avoiding the epicenter of an academic scandal. Jack found me in our usual study room, surrounded by every piece of evidence we'd gathered.

"Hey," he said softly, closing the door. His shoulders held the tension of hours of Athletic Department interrogation. "How'd the review board go?"

"Dr. Pierce actually defended your work." I looked up from the papers spread across the table. "Though she still disapproves of our 'inappropriate display of affection' in her museum."

"Our museum," he corrected, moving closer. "And I'm not apologizing for being excited about correct surgical tool identification."

Despite everything, I smiled. "That's really not helping our case about maintaining professional boundaries."

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