FALLING FOR THE BAD BOY❤

*Falling for the Bad Boy* _prologue: Warnings_ _Written by Mary_ _Chloe:_ My mother has two rules. One: Keep your head down. Two: Stay away from boys like Jax Carter. I’ve followed both for seventeen years. It’s how you survive Ridgeview High when your uniform is second-hand and your lunch is free. You don’t make noise. You don’t make eye contact. You get the grades, you get the scholarship, you get out. Rule one was easy. Rule two was easier. Because boys like Jax Carter never looked at girls like me. Until tonight. The envelope on my kitchen table had the Ridgeview High crest. Thick paper. Expensive. The kind they send when they’re about to ruin your life in calligraphy. _Academic Probation Notice._ One C. That’s all it took. One C in Pre-Calc and four years of staying invisible evaporated. “Your scholarship requires a 4.0 minimum,” Mrs. Alvarez had said this morning, not unkindly. “You have a 3.8.” “Because of one test,” I’d said. My voice came out smaller than I wanted. She slid a folder across her desk. Manila. Worn edges. JAX CARTER written in Sharpie. “He needs a C in English to stay eligible for football. You need a 4.0 to keep your aid. Two hours a day. Detention room. Starting tomorrow.” “I don’t—” “It’s not a request, Chloe. It’s this, or you lose your funding next semester.” So tomorrow, I break rule two. Boys like Jax Carter don’t follow rules. They write them in detention slips and broken curfews. Everyone knows his name. Quarterback. Expelled twice. Reinstated twice because his father owns half the town. Motorcycle in the student lot that security pretends not to see. Girls line up to be ruined by him and call it winning. I’ve seen him once. Last year, behind the gym. I’d stayed late for Mathletes. Cut through the back lot because the main hall was locked. Heard laughing first. Not happy laughing. The kind that sounds like glass breaking. He was there. Jax Carter. Back against the brick, one hand braced on his thigh, the other wiping blood from his mouth with his thumb. His knuckles were split. His lip was cut. Three guys circled him. Seniors. Football. “Your dad’s not gonna buy you out of this one, Carter,” the biggest one said. Jax grinned. Blood on his teeth. “Good. I’m bored of him buying me out.” He pushed off the wall. Fast. The biggest guy hit the ground first. The other two ran. Jax didn’t chase them. Just stood there, chest heaving, laughing at the sky like it told a joke only he heard. Then he looked at me. I froze. Clipboard to my chest like it was armor. He should’ve said something. _What are you looking at? Get lost, nerd._ Something. He didn’t. He just looked. Eyes dark. Not mean. Not anything. Just empty, and then not empty when they landed on me. I looked away fast. That’s the rule. I heard his footsteps. Thought he was coming over. Instead, a black helmet hit the dumpster next to me. He grabbed it, swung his leg over a motorcycle I hadn’t noticed, and was gone. I didn’t breathe until the engine faded. That was a year ago. Tomorrow, I have to sit across from him for two hours. And I’m terrified it won’t be the last rule I break. _Jax:_ Three rules. That’s all I got left from my old man before he skipped state. One: Don’t trust anyone. Two: Don’t let them see you bleed. Three: If you want something, take it. I follow two out of three most days. Rule two’s the hardest. Because I’m always bleeding somewhere. Coach called me into his office after practice. Didn’t even look up from his clipboard. “English. You’re failing.” “Since when do you care about English?” “Since the school board cares about eligibility. You get a C, or you’re off the team. And if you’re off the team, your dad’s donation doesn’t mean shit.” He tossed a folder on the desk. Thin. My name