He Sent a Fake to Scare Me Off, I Ended Up Feeding Him for Months Chapter 01

He Sent a Fake to Scare Me Off, I Ended Up Feeding Him for Months Chapter 01

Chase Whitmore didn’t want a fiancée from the country. Hoping I’d call off the engagement myself, he had one of the school’s need-based scholarship students pretend to be him.

“A tacky new-money girl and a guy too broke to afford lunch. They’re perfect for each other.”

“I bet that new-money girl won’t last three days before she calls off the engagement.”

The student was tall, aloof, and quiet, with an air of someone life had already worn down.

I fell for the lie. I thought the Whitmores had really gone bankrupt and that Chase could barely afford to eat.

Dad’s advice echoed in my head. “If they’re broke, they’re broke, sweetheart. We don’t judge people by their bank accounts. Besides, we can afford to take care of him.”

So whenever he was hungry, I brought him food. When he went to his part-time jobs, I tagged along as his personal bodyguard. When his mother was hospitalized, I covered her medical bills.

I took excellent care of my supposedly penniless fiancé.

Then one morning, another strikingly handsome boy snatched away the breakfast I’d carefully prepared.

I was about to lose my temper when he stared at me with an unmistakably aggrieved look.

“Savannah, take a good look at me. I’m your fiancé.”

***

Dad told me I had a fiancé in the city.

He transferred me to Westbridge for two reasons: to let me decide whether I wanted the engagement and to improve my chances of getting into a good college.

So during my junior year, he transferred me to Westbridge Preparatory Academy and placed me in Chase’s homeroom.

I’d heard the Whitmores were the richest family in Westbridge, with generations of wealth behind them, so Dad had sent me with plenty of gifts.

But when I got off the train, no one from the Whitmore family was there to meet me.

I was annoyed at first. But the feeling vanished when I got to school and saw the thin boy I believed was Chase in a T-shirt faded from too many washes.

A student I met on campus saw the photograph in my hand and kindly offered to show me the way.

“Room 203? You’re looking for Chase Whitmore? I know him. Come on.”

He raised his hand and pointed through the classroom door.

I followed his finger to a boy sitting beside the window.

He was lean and clean-cut, his back perfectly straight.

Afternoon sunlight fell across his profile as a breeze stirred his hair, revealing his smooth forehead and strong brow.

I looked down at the photograph, then back at him.

The other student’s dramatic voice still echoed in my ears. “You didn’t know? The Whitmores went bankrupt two years ago. Chase relies on financial aid now, and he works after school. Sometimes he can’t even afford lunch.”

Our families rarely kept in touch, and the Whitmores certainly wouldn’t have announced their bankruptcy all the way out in my hometown.

I let out a soft “Oh,” then nodded quickly and promised not to tell anyone.

“Everyone, this is Savannah Brooks, our new transfer student. Let’s make her feel welcome,” the teacher said before pointing to an empty seat in the back. “Savannah, you can sit there for now.”

I looked up and saw that it was beside Chase.

From the moment I entered the room until the teacher assigned my seat, he never once looked up. He kept his head down, completely focused on whatever he was writing.

As I squeezed behind his chair, my backpack snagged on the worn canvas bag beneath it.

I tugged gently, and a battered metal lunch tin tumbled out with a clang. Half a rock-hard bread roll tumbled onto the dusty floor.

His shoulders gave the slightest twitch. His grip tightened on his pen, but he didn’t turn around.

A few muffled laughs came from nearby. Several boys were whispering behind his back, their faces full of contempt.

So Chase really had fallen this far. The confident boy in the photograph couldn’t even afford a proper meal anymore.

Biting my lip, I picked up the tin, set it on his desk, and sat down with my backpack in my arms.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Still without looking at me, he took the lunch tin from his desk and slipped it back into his bag.

“I’m Savannah. Do you remember me?” I tilted my head and leaned closer.

We’d met once when he was six.

Like my mother, I’d always been a sucker for a pretty face. Chase had been so adorable as a child that I couldn’t leave him alone.

Unfortunately, I’d taken him to play with the chickens, and one of them had pecked him on the butt. He’d refused to speak to me after that.

At least he’d grown up just as handsome.

My sudden closeness startled him. He leaned back slightly and looked down at me.

His dark eyes caught the light, and his long black lashes softened his otherwise distant expression, making him seem a little less unapproachable.

Once he recovered, he still said nothing.

I scratched my head. “I’m your fiancée. Ring any bells?”

He was taking a sip of water and choked at my words. As he coughed into his fist, I hurried to pat his back.

Once he caught his breath, he gave me a strange look, his pale face flushed.

Maybe he didn’t remember me. Or maybe losing everything had changed him.

Either way, I decided we could pretend we were strangers and start over.

I smiled and held out my hand. “I guess we’ll be sitting together from now on. I’m Savannah. Nice to meet you. By the way, can I ask you for a favor?”

I expected him to ignore me again. This time, however, he finally spoke, though his voice remained cold.

“I don’t have time.”