"He's been kissing up to Samantha so obviously, and she doesn't even give him the time of day. Now that she's throwing a birthday party for Roger, he's totally losing it."

I froze, the realization hitting me like a thunderbolt—this was the night before the college entrance exam.

I pinched myself. Hard.

It hurt. But I was trembling—not from pain, but from sheer, overwhelming excitement.

I've actually been reborn.

Seeing me standing there with my head down, saying nothing, a few classmates who'd always been decent to me spoke up.

"Are we being too harsh? Daryl was just looking out for us..."

Roger let out a theatrical sigh.

"Daryl, I had no idea you hated me this much. Cursing everyone to bomb their exams? Come on. We're the Elite Track—you really think one birthday outing is going to tank our scores?"

Samantha immediately stepped in front of him, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Don't waste your concern on us. We're not like you—so terrified of a little test that you're running to the bathroom every five minutes. And then you blame your garbage scores on a few extra trips?"

She tossed her hair. "The college entrance exam is nothing. For geniuses like us, it's a breeze."

The whole class erupted in laughter.

My fists clenched. A dull ache spread through my chest.

During the placement exam in junior year, stress had wrecked my stomach. Every time I tried to focus, I'd need the bathroom. The constant interruptions destroyed my concentration, and I'd missed the cutoff for the Elite Track by a handful of points.

Afterward, I'd hidden in an empty study room, drowning in disappointment.

Samantha had found me there. She'd rushed in and thrown her arms around me, her voice soft with concern.

"I had my housekeeper make congee for you. You need to eat something. I knew you'd be hiding somewhere, beating yourself up over this." She'd squeezed my hand. "It's okay. One bad exam doesn't define you. There's always next time. I'll tutor you myself—and we'll get into the same university together..."

But the moment Roger transferred in, everything changed.

I took a deep breath and unclenched my fists.

Ignoring their laughter, I gathered my things and slung my bag over my shoulder.

"You're right. Since that's how it is, have fun tonight."

I didn't explode the way they expected. I didn't cry.

Their laughter died in their throats, the sport suddenly gone out of their mockery.

Someone shrugged and turned back to the group, enthusiasm rekindled. "Let's do the fruit wine—only three percent alcohol. Definitely won't affect the exam."

I let out a quiet scoff.

One glass of that bar's fruit wine could flatten a grown adult. Dad's hospital regularly admitted people with alcohol poisoning from that exact place.

In my past life, that was precisely why I'd begged them not to go.

But this time? I wasn't going to stop anyone.

I shouldered my bag and headed for the door.

But Samantha didn't look satisfied. If anything, her brow furrowed deeper as she watched me.

The moment I moved to leave, her hand shot out and locked around my wrist.

"No. You're coming with us."

The room went silent. Everyone stared at me in confusion.

"Why would he come? He'll just kill the vibe and bring everyone down."

Roger's expression shifted to concern—the practiced kind.

"What if Daryl comes tonight and bombs his exam tomorrow? He'll blame me for ruining his score. I can't deal with that kind of guilt."

His eyes were wary, guarded—like he was terrified I might actually take Samantha up on her offer.

And why wouldn't he be? If I tagged along, how was he supposed to get her tipsy and make his move?

Samantha let out a sharp laugh.

"Daryl's too clever for his own good. Don't you remember what happened during the Dragon Boat Festival break? The English teacher forgot to assign homework, and this one"—she jerked her chin at me—"actually called her to ask for worksheets. Then he texted every single one of you to make sure you knew. Ruined the entire holiday."

The classroom went dead quiet. The looks people gave me shifted—harder now, resentful.

I smiled, bitter and self-mocking.

Those worksheets were practice exams from the top prep school in the province. They'd predicted dozens of actual test questions the year before. The teacher had specifically requested them to help boost everyone's scores.

I was afraid everyone would miss the exam, so I reminded them one by one.

But what I thought was being responsible turned out to be a crime in their eyes.

Samantha looked at me with mockery dripping from her gaze.

"Watch—he'll run home and call our parents again. Little snitch."

I finally snapped. "I don't have time for that."

I forced my voice steady. "I promise I won't say anything. I won't call anyone. Okay? I just want to go home, rest, and do well on the exam tomorrow."

I tried to pry her fingers off my arm, but she used the motion to snatch my bag instead.

"What are you doing?!" I shouted, my stomach plummeting.

The next second, she pulled out my exam admission ticket and waved it in the air.

The blood drained from my face. I lunged for it. "Are you insane? Give it back!"

Samantha tossed it to Roger like she was playing fetch with a dog. Roger flicked it to another classmate.

They watched me scramble back and forth, grabbing at air, and laughed like it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen.

Samantha looked down at me, queen to peasant.

"Your promises mean nothing to me. The ticket's mine now. You want to take that exam tomorrow? Then behave. Don't ruin Roger's birthday."

My eyes burned. My voice shook.

"Samantha, give it back. Don't make me hate you."

Something flickered in her expression when she saw the raw hatred in my eyes. Her tone softened—just a fraction.

"All you have to do is keep your mouth shut, and I'll return it. We promised we'd get into the same university, remember? Of course I'll give it back."

"Just don't ruin Roger's eighteenth birthday."

I stared at her earnest face, and my heart sank inch by inch.

Eighteen years. We'd grown up together for eighteen years.

And my entire future meant less to her than Roger's party.

My whole body trembled. I couldn't look away from her.

She avoided my gaze, turning to the crowd with a bright smile.

"Crisis averted! Everyone can relax and enjoy the party now."

Roger was on her instantly, pulling her into his arms. His voice dropped low, intimate.

"Thank you, Samantha. This party is the best gift I could ask for."

Her ears flushed red, but she didn't push him away. If anything, she leaned in, her palm settling against his chest.

"As long as you're happy."

The room erupted in catcalls and whistles.

"I don't think the party's his best gift—I think you are, Samantha!"

"You're both legal adults now. A kiss isn't too much to ask, right?"

Samantha swatted at them playfully. "Oh, stop it."

But she couldn't hide the excitement dancing in her eyes.

I stood apart from them, watching. My nails dug into my palms so hard I nearly drew blood.

Laugh. Have your fun.

Let's see if you're still laughing tomorrow when you're staring at your exam papers.

I didn't bother asking for my bag back. I turned to leave.

But they weren't about to let me go.

Samantha's voice rang out like a verdict. "Don't let him leave. Lock him in the gym."

"We'll let him out after the party's over."

I glared at her, thrashing against the hands grabbing me. "You've lost your mind! Let go of me!"

Several guys swarmed in, wrenching my arms behind my back and dragging me toward the abandoned gym.

They hurled me onto the concrete floor. My arm scraped against the rough surface, leaving a smear of blood.

A flicker of hesitation crossed Samantha's face—gone in an instant, replaced by something almost gleeful.

She brought her heel down on my phone. Once. Twice. She didn't stop until the screen went black and stayed that way.

"Don't be so jealous," she said soothingly, like she was calming a child. "Just wait here like a good boy."

"I'm the class president. I'm just helping a classmate celebrate his birthday. If it were your birthday, I'd do the same thing."

"Stay put. I'll come back for you, and we'll walk home together."

The door slammed shut.

The heavy iron door slammed shut, plunging everything into darkness.

I lay sprawled on the ground, my voice raw and shredded as I screamed for help.

I lost track of time. Then—footsteps outside.

I practically threw myself at the door. "Help me—"

The door swung open.

It was Dad.

His face was tight with panic. He rushed in and pulled me into his arms.

"Son? What happened? I kept calling but couldn't get through. When I called Samantha, she said you were at some party."

"You'd never go out partying right before the college entrance exam—I knew something was wrong! I came looking for you immediately. I never imagined you'd be locked inside the school!"

"Was it Samantha? What's gotten into that girl?"

Two lifetimes apart, and here he was—alive, breathing, real.

I collapsed into his chest and sobbed.

Dad froze, completely at a loss. "Don't be scared. Tell me what happened."

"I'm fine." I wiped my tears and forced myself to stay calm.

Crashing their little party now would be letting them off too easy.

I wanted them to regret this for the rest of their lives.

When Mom arrived and saw the cuts and bruises covering my body, her expression shifted instantly.

But I just whispered, "I'm okay, Mom. I don't want to go to college here anymore. I want to study abroad—settle overseas with you and Dad."

In my past life, I'd given up an acceptance letter from a prestigious foreign university, all because Samantha had said, "Let's go to college together."

I'd taken the national exam instead.

And look where that got me.

This time, I wasn't going to gamble on her actually keeping my exam admission ticket safe.

This exam? I was done with it.

Back home, I passed out and slept fitfully until the early hours, my dreams filled with flashes of my previous life.

When I woke again, my pillow was soaked with tears.

I dried my eyes, swapped my SIM card into an old phone, and powered it on.

My feed was flooded with updates from classmates—and from Samantha and Roger.

In one photo, Roger was leaning back against Samantha's chest, his face flushed as he grinned up at her. She gazed down at him, the picture of tenderness.

I glanced at it once, then noticed the empty fruit wine cans piled on the table behind them.

That much alcohol? Forget affecting their exam performance—some of them might not even wake up tomorrow.

Someone had posted a video. The crowd was chanting: "Kiss! Kiss!"

Samantha pressed herself against Roger, kissing him desperately, deeply—a thin string of saliva still connecting their lips when they finally pulled apart.

Disgust churned in my stomach. I closed the video.

The latest post was from Roger. Clearly set to only visible to me.

I opened it. Heavy, ragged breathing filled my ears.

I frowned at the two bodies tangled together on screen. I didn't need to look closely to know the other person was Samantha.

Roger's voice came through between gasps, dripping with mockery:

"Daryl, Samantha says she loves me best. Says she wants to have my baby as a birthday present. What makes a boring little bookworm like you think you can compete with me?"

Then he sent a photo of an exam admission ticket—torn to shreds.

"I made her choose between you and me. To prove her loyalty, she ripped up your ticket. Said this way she won't have to go to the same university as you. Gives her an excuse to finally dump you."

"Can't wait to see you fall apart tomorrow, haha. Consider this an early congratulations on repeating senior year. Enjoy being a super-senior! "

Even though I'd already braced myself for my ticket being destroyed, seeing those scattered pieces still made my breath catch. A dull ache spread through my chest.

Three years of sleepless nights. Three years of relentless effort.

Gone. Just like that. Destroyed on a whim.

The sound of a phone ringing drifted in from the living room.

I opened my door just as Dad answered, his face shifting to shock. "What? A Westbridge High student? A senior about to take the exam? Alcohol poisoning?" He grabbed his keys. "I'm on my way."