His After The Heartbreak (BL)
Chapter 219: The Driver Is Here

Chapter 219: The Driver Is Here

Chapter 219- The Driver Is Here

LOGAN’S POV

I was just staring at him.

Yeah, I was just standing there, silently plotting his emotional downfall in my head, when something pierced through the noise of the chattering students.

It was the principal’s voice.

"Everyone, please stand beside your roommates!" she announced. "Because for the rest of this trip, your roommates will also be your partners. That means you’ll sit together on the bus, attend activities together, and clock in and out as a pair."

I froze.

My heart stopped.

I blinked.

Did she just—?

No way.

There’s no way this woman was being serious.

I blinked again, like maybe I heard her wrong, or maybe my ears were playing tricks on me.

But nope.

She was dead serious.

What the actual fuck is wrong with her?

This principal — I swear, she has one job: to make our lives miserable. And she’s damn good at it.

"Are we being deadass right now?" Tyler’s voice cut through the silence, and I couldn’t help it — I let out a small breath through my nose.

He sounded exactly how I felt.

Like he’d rather throw himself into a ditch than be my partner for the week.

Good.

Because same.

Sharing a room is bad enough. Now I have to share a bus seat with him too?

That’s intimacy I didn’t sign up for.

Sharing space like that means eye contact. Conversations.

So this new "partner" arrangement? Yeah, it’s a deal breaker.

"Mr. Tyler," the principal turned toward him, still smiling like she hadn’t just ruined our lives, "Do you have something to say?"

Tyler raised his voice a little, his face blank but furious.

"The statement I made is enough to make you understand," he said. "So being roommates wasn’t hellish enough? Now we have to share seats and walk around together like we’re best buddies? This whole thing is just... it’s annoying. You people keep dropping these rules like bombs. You’re just trying to piss us off."

I swallowed a laugh.

Damn. He said it.

He said exactly what I was thinking.

For a split second, I forgot I hated him. I almost wanted to high-five him.

But no. Nope. Not happening.

"I’m so sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, Tyler," the principal replied, tilting her head like some overly calm kindergarten teacher. "But I thought it was the best way to keep things organized. You and your roommate will be responsible for clocking in every day together. If we don’t enforce this now, there’ll be chaos once you arrive."

She kept talking but I had already tuned her out.

She was still trying to justify it like this was some genius strategy. But it was stupid. All of it.

She wasn’t listening to us.

Tyler didn’t back down either. He straightened up, his voice rising just enough.

"Did we suddenly turn into little kids who can’t find our rooms on our own?" he snapped. "Do you really think we don’t know how to check in or follow rules unless we’re glued to someone we hate the entire time?"

There it was.

He said it.

Hate.

Because same, dude.

Same.

"I’m sure you’re well aware that at least half of us despise our roommates," Tyler continued. "Like deeply. Like if murder was legal—" he stopped himself, and people laughed nervously, "—we wouldn’t even hesitate."

He turned slightly, his eyes flicking toward me, and even though he didn’t say my name, everyone knew who he was talking about.

"The fact that we’re even still in the same room is punishment enough," he added. "And now you want to force us to be partners too? That’s not fair. Not to any of us."

He looked around the group.

"Or am I lying?"

And just like that, almost everyone nodded or murmured "facts" or "he’s right" under their breath.

The principal tried to save face.

"I know it’s not going to be comfortable for a lot of you," she said. "But that’s the only way to make this trip smooth and accountable."

Smooth?

Accountable?

Lady, this is not the army.

And no matter how many smiles she fakes, I’m not spending this week pretending I don’t want to rip my partner’s face off.

"That isn’t the only way, Mrs. Agnes," I said, stepping forward, my voice louder than I expected. "You need to do something about this. We already agreed to be roommates with the people we were given, even though most of us hate that arrangement."

I looked her dead in the eye.

"But don’t you think sharing the same bus seat, doing everything together, and even being partners all week is too much?

People around me started nodding. Some clapped. A few whispered "exactly" or "thank you."

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.

Perfect.

She opened her mouth.

"E-emmm..."

There it was.

The signature stammer.

Mrs. Agnes always stammers when she’s about to feed us one of her weak, half-baked excuses. It’s like her mouth needs time to spin the bullshit into something passable.

Typical.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

"Excuse me, students," she muttered, clearly flustered, as she stepped away from the front and started walking.

Straight to my dad.

My eyes widened slightly, and I groaned internally.

Oh no.

She was going to pull the "Let’s call the big parents" card. And of course, my dad was always the first option. The man couldn’t say no to anything if it came with a polite smile and a fake tone of respect.

This woman was seriously trying me.

She was pissing me off.

I clenched my jaw and watched helplessly as my dad nodded at whatever she said. Then he turned and walked with her to Tyler’s dad.

Just great.

The two men I least wanted involved in this were now teaming up with the enemy.

They stood off to the side, whispering like some top-secret meeting was taking place. For over five minutes, they talked. Probably laughing at how dramatic we were being. Probably planning how to make this even worse.

I knew how this would end. I didn’t need to listen.

They’d talk. Then they’d come out and "reason" with us. Then they’d say something inspirational, and the whole group would magically be okay with it.

It was always the same script.

I didn’t want to hear it.

So, I reached into my bag, pulled out my headset, and turned on my music — loud. The bass thumped in my ears, drowning out whatever nonsense speech they were delivering.

Five minutes passed. Maybe more. I didn’t care.

Then I felt a presence beside me — close.

A light tap on my shoulder made me yank one earbud out.

It was my dad.

Of course it was.

I didn’t even look at him right away. I just sighed and shook my head.

"What?" I said, pulling the other earbud out.

"You were supposed to be on my side," I continued, already knowing where this was going. "But the moment Mrs. Agnes smiled and begged, you just—what? Folded? Do you have a thing for her or something?"

He frowned.

"Tell me," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Did she cast a spell on you? Or is it the way she smiles? Maybe you secretly like her and now you just do whatever she wants?"

He didn’t answer.

Of course he didn’t.

He just stood there like a statue, pretending the silence made him wise when really, he just had no defense.

I looked away.

There was no point arguing. He already did what I wanted him not to do.

"Everyone, please stand with your partner so you can receive your room key and food card," Mrs. Agnes announced.

I walked past my dad without another word. Didn’t even look at him.

As I passed, I muttered under my breath, "Betrayal."

I made my way to the front, fully ready to collect my room card and food card. Might as well get it over with.

But the woman checking names glanced up and frowned. "Oh, someone already collected yours," she said.

My brows lifted. "What?"

"Yeah. Your partner."

And as if summoned by the devil himself, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned.

Tyler.

He stood there, holding out the two cards — mine and his.

"Here," he said simply.

I didn’t even thank him.

I snatched the cards from his hand, hard.

"Learn not to touch what doesn’t belong to you," I snapped, glaring at him with all the irritation I could muster.

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

Good. Because if he did, I might’ve punched him in the throat.

I turned and walked back toward my dad.

"Give me your phone," I said coldly.

He raised a brow. "Why?"

"I want to take a number from it."

He handed it over reluctantly. "Whose number?"

"Your second number, of course," I muttered as I unlocked the screen.

But as I scrolled through his contacts, something caught my eye.

A name.

Not just any name.

A familiar name... with a very familiar picture beside it.

Tyler’s mom.

I stared at the screen.

My brain froze.

I turned to him slowly, confused.

"Why," I said, my voice low and sharp, "did you save Tyler’s mom’s name as ’your heart’ with a love emoji?"

"STUDENT!! The driver is here."