<
Oh, so he was going for the direct approach this time?
In my previous life, he’d taken things slow, gradually wearing me down. But now, not even 24 hours had passed, and he was already making his
move.
When I didn’t respond, Ethan assumed I was flustered.
“I know this might feel sudden,” he said, “and you probably need some time to process-”
I cut him off. “I’m not flustered. I’m just trying to decide which one of you four I should pick.”
I glanced at my phone, where the other three boys‘ messages were still open. Each of them had already tried confessing to me in this new timeline.
Ethan leaned closer, trying to sneak a look, but I tilted my phone away.
“That’s private,” I said lightly, “not something I can share.”
Ethan laughed. “Looks like they’re moving fast.”
Feigning ignorance, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” he said, standing up. “It’s almost time for class. Let’s head back.”
I grabbed my vocabulary book and walked off, leaving Ethan to clean up the picnic on his own.
The four of them–the so–called princes of St. Augustine–had chosen me as their target and made a bet.
Whoever took my virginity first would win.
In my previous life, they’d tried every trick in the book, even resorting to drugging me.
I still remembered that night at the karaoke bar. After drinking that spiked cocktail, I’d blacked out completely. The next thing I knew, I woke up in my dorm room.
But the school’s private forum had exploded with posts mocking me.
Ethan had used a special drug to knock me out and had then “won” the bet.
Photos and videos of me became his trophies, proof of his victory. I hadn’t discovered the truth until I stumbled across those images by chance.
By then, it was too late.
I had no evidence and no way to fight back. All I could do was endure the relentless bullying that followed.
This time, though, things were different.
Because I was no longer the same person, the four of them had shifted their strategy.
Instead of playing cat and mouse, they wanted to skip straight to the final act.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
This time, I was the one in control of the game.
After school, Logan tried to convince me to hit the gym with him again, but I politely declined.
“I’ve already made plans with Chris. He’s going to teach me how to play the piano.”
“Piano? What’s so fun about pressing keys?” Logan muttered, still trying to win me over.
<
But I didn’t even look back as I walked away.
Chris Langston, the artsy one of the group, was waiting for me in the piano room when I arrived.
Dressed in a white suit and holding a single red rose, he greeted me with a dramatic bow.
“Miss Rhea, may I have the honor of sharing a dance with you?”
I smiled. “But I don’t know how to dance. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Of course not,” he said with a charming grin.
