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."

His face was pale, drenched in sweat.

When he looked up and saw me, he assumed I was worried about my classmates and rushed to reassure me.

"Don't be scared. It might not be anyone from your class. I'm heading over now—and even if it is them, I'll do everything I can to get them back on their feet. I won't let anything interfere with tomorrow's exam."

I looked at my father's anxious face, and my mind drifted to my previous life.

Back then, I'd been so worried that my classmates had actually gone out drinking that I'd dragged my father to the school bus stop with me the next morning. I just wanted him nearby in case someone showed up hungover—he could help them recover quickly.

But those ungrateful bastards had turned around and told everyone the same lie: that my father had come to help me threaten them.

That lie was why those deranged internet vigilantes—claiming to avenge Roger—had shown up at our door.

That lie was why my family was dead.

Not this time.

This time, I would never let my father get dragged into this mess.

The next morning, I ate the breakfast my father made with his own hands, then took the bus to school.

The minutes ticked closer to departure time, but the pickup point for the college entrance exam shuttle was eerily quiet.

The teachers' expressions grew darker by the second.

"What's going on? Is the Elite Track planning to skip the exam entirely?"

Mr. Bennett rushed over, looking like he hadn't slept in days. Behind him trailed a handful of students, their faces ashen.

The moment they saw me, their eyes darted away—guilty, regretful.

Principal Harrington's face was thunderous as he listened to Mr. Bennett's stammering explanation. His fury finally boiled over.

"I told you—told you—to watch what you eat before the exam! To get proper rest! And what do you do? Go out drinking at a bar the night before?!"

"Now only five of you can even sit for the exam! The rest are in the hospital getting their stomachs pumped—and some are in the ICU?!"

"Have you all lost your minds? You want to destroy your own futures, fine—but did you have to take my career down with you?!"

His shouting drew the attention of nearby parents and reporters.

"Good lord. We're over here cooking every meal with surgical precision, and these kids go and drink themselves into alcohol poisoning."

"Going out partying and drinking right before the biggest exam of their lives? Some 'academic elite.' They're no better than delinquents."

"My kid's grades aren't anything special, but at least she knows how to take responsibility for herself. These top students' parents must be losing their minds."

"I've been in media for years, and I've never seen an entire class drink themselves out of taking the college entrance exam." The reporters raised their cameras.

Principal Harrington's face had gone from red to gray. He clutched his chest, voice cracking with despair. "I'm finished. The school is finished!"

Ms. Parker—who had always favored Samantha and Roger—went pale. "Where are Samantha and Roger? They're our best shots at Stonebridge University!"

Mr. Bennett kept his head down, his voice rough. "We can't reach them. We've already called the police."

Principal Harrington staggered. His face darkened further, one hand pressed over his heart. Then his gaze landed on me, and something like hope flickered in his eyes.

"Daryl is a good kid—didn't get caught up in their nonsense. We might still salvage one Stonebridge acceptance this year."

I lowered my eyes, letting a look of regret cross my face. "Samantha was afraid I'd report her. She took my exam admission ticket. She still hasn't shown up... I might not be able to take the test."

Thud.

Principal Harrington collapsed.

Chaos erupted. Some rushed him to the hospital. Others herded the remaining students toward the exam site.

I boarded the bus. The atmosphere inside was suffocating. Someone had already started crying.

"My dad's going to kill me... I never should've gone to that bar..."

"What am I going to do? I'll never get into a top university now... This is all Roger's fault..."

I stared out the window, expression blank, listening to them weep.

Weren't you all geniuses? Didn't you say the exam was just a formality?