**A Promise Written on the Rusted Edge of Time by Dael Rowan Sire**
Not only was this guy imposing, but he had the audacity to refer to people as “wifey” right from the moment he met them! It was a strange mix of charm and intimidation that left me both intrigued and slightly unnerved.
In an instant, the boy rose to his full height, and I realized he towered over Ethan, who was already an impressive 6’1″. There was something magnetic about his presence, a confidence that was hard to ignore.
He offered no explanation for his sudden movement or demeanor. Instead, his long fingers deftly hooked the collar of his jacket, tossing it nonchalantly over his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Let’s go,” he commanded, his voice steady and unwavering.
“The school gates are about to close,” I reminded him, my voice laced with a hint of urgency.
I snapped back to reality, acknowledging his command with a simple nod. Without further hesitation, I fell in step behind him.
The boy had an impressive physique, his build hinting at athletic prowess. He effortlessly guided a sleek black bicycle with one hand, the other casually resting at his side. As we walked, it became evident that he was a standout—people passing by couldn’t help but steal glances in his direction.
But he seemed completely unfazed by the attention, as if he were used to being the center of admiration.
I found myself deliberately slowing my pace, wanting to create some distance between us, yet to my surprise, he matched my speed, making it impossible to escape his presence.
The setting sun cast a long shadow that fell right at my feet, a reminder of his looming figure beside me.
He turned his head slightly, catching my eye. “You know, even snails move faster than you,” he teased, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
Inwardly, I couldn’t help but think, *He’s really something else.*
As we walked back, I discovered that he lived in my neighborhood, a revelation that brought a smile to his lips.
Later on, Maddie would fill me in on his identity: Chase, Lincoln High’s infamous bad boy.
I chuckled to myself, recalling the rumors swirling around him.
20:26
Aww. Seven Exes Begged. Cute, Blocked.
58.9%
**Chapter 64**
It seemed that everyone followed him to the cafeteria, affectionately calling him “daddy.”
I couldn’t help but think, *Gang activity!!*
But as lunchtime rolled around, I witnessed a group of guys trailing behind Chase, practically begging him for favors as they pushed forward with their meal cards.
“Chase, my monthly allowance is gone. Help a brother out,” one of them pleaded, desperation evident in his voice.
“Me too, man. You’re the real MVP,” another chimed in, eyes wide with hope.
Chase glanced in my direction, his gaze sharp and discerning, before he coolly replied, “Get lost.”
Yet, despite his dismissive tone, he still handed over his card, and just like that, the group dispersed, leaving me to ponder what “calling him daddy” truly entailed.
A few days later, our homeroom teacher announced a new initiative—one-on-one tutoring pairs, where the top student would assist the bottom student, the second-ranked would help the second-to-last, and so forth.
“Alright, let’s assign partners,” she said, her voice echoing through the classroom.
“Starting with Lily,” she continued, scanning the room for the lowest performer.
A boy in front prepared to stand, his hand poised to rise.
But someone behind me stood up, exuding an air of nonchalance.
“Me,” Chase declared, his tone cool and collected.
The boy turned around, disbelief etched on his face. “Don’t mess around, Chase. You scored two points higher than me on the last test.”
“Teacher, I’m really the worst student,” Chase insisted, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“Class president, help me out here,” the teacher said, looking my way.



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