The two backpacks thudded onto Arthur's desk.

He lunged and unzipped the designer one, but Asher, who decided to give it all up, grabbed the shoulder strap.

They began yanking back and forth in a frantic, ugly tug-of-war.

One by one, the scented tampons spilled out and fluttered through the office air like a stranger, floral rain.

I looked up and smiled, only to meet Henry's gaze behind his half-rim glasses. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Biggs! I admit it! Asher used those things to give me pressure!

"He forced me, harassed, and made me do those things with him!"

Tinsley suddenly burst into tears, while Asher gawked at her in pure disbelief. There was fury blazing in his eyes.

"Tinsley, you absolute bitch!"

I let out a soft scoff and muttered to myself, "Well, check out your female lead, Asher. That's some incredible acting."

Leaning against the doorframe, Henry whispered, "What are you laughing at, Gia?"

"There's a tampon stuck on Arthur's head," I whispered back.

It was a perfect fit for where his receding hairline used to be.

"Pfft—" That did it. Even Henry had to stifle a laugh.

In the end, Asher pulled some family strings and escaped with nothing more than a formal warning. But the fallout between him and Tinsley came quickly.

When Tinsley started skipping classes out of spite, she ended up meeting the second most important man in her life, Kieran Gallagher.

He was the thug who, in my past life, drove a knife into my stomach and stabbed me hard.

With Tinsley busy juggling her new social life, I finally had some peace to bury my head in my books and focus on studying.

I counted the days. There was one more year until the SAT.

In my past life, I'd straight away enrolled in a vocational school and never seen what a real SAT-level paper looked like. This time, there would be no shortcuts.

When Mom saw how hard I was studying, she started saving the freshest catch for me and switched between pan-searing, grilling, and poaching methods daily.

She was worried I'd get tired of fish and had no idea that this was the taste I'd missed for over a decade.

When my homeroom teacher, Truman Hayes, called to compliment my progress in the midterms, Mom actually broke down in tears.

She'd tried to stop me from hanging out with Tinsley, but I hadn't listened. As a widow who'd lost her husband young and her job in middle age, she lost the strength to fight fate and decided to recklessly spoil me instead.

When she heard from Truman that Henry, my seatmate, was a top student who'd been helping me with school, she made a pot of fish chowder and told me to bring it to him.

At the intersection where he waited for me every morning, I tossed the thermal flask and my backpack over.

"Wow, Gia. Your true colors are really starting to show."

"There's fish chowder in the flask. My mom made it specially for you," I said, pointing at the container.

Ever since the day he appeared out of thin air with Tinsley's backpack, we'd formed a silent, tactical alliance.

"For what?" He lifted the flask and raised an eyebrow.

"It isn't because I noticed you only eat plain toast for lunch. My family can't afford your tutoring fees, so this is a bribe."

As poor kids clinging to shreds of pride, we exchanged a smile.

As we walked out of the alley into the morning mist of our small coastal town, a figure stood in the fog waiting for me.

With a cigarette between her fingers, Tinsley exhaled a plume of smoke. When she saw Henry beside me, she froze briefly before saying, "Gia, I need to talk to you."