From the moment I gained conscious thought, I understood one fundamental truth: I did not belong to myself. I was merely a strategic asset, a bargaining chip in my parents’ desperate gambit to curry favor with the elite Miller family of Seattle. During my freshman year of high school, they transferred me to the same exclusive private academy attended by Caleb Miller. Their directives were crystalline: charm Caleb, outshine the horde of other debutantes vying for position, and secure my spot as the future Mrs. Miller. However, at that time, Caleb’s heart was already occupied. I witnessed the unbridled arrogance in his expression soften only for her; I saw the reverence with which he kissed her forehead. I was a firsthand witness to the passionate romance of their youth—memories that remained vivid long after Caleb and I eventually married. I knew, deep down, that I only possessed the husk of a boy whose brilliance belonged entirely to someone else’s past. So, when life granted me a miracle—a second chance—I chose to fight back. 01 I pressed a beige bandage over the angry scratch on my neck before finally turning to look back at the sprawling complex of luxury villas behind me. I let out a long, slow breath, a genuine smile spreading across my face. Relief. The very first thing I did upon waking up in this past was drag my parents through a near-death melodrama. I made it absolutely clear that I would rather die than adhere to their scheming calculations for my life. It cost me dearly. To buy my freedom, I had to sign a contract promising to pay them a million dollars by the time I turned thirty to compensate for the "cost of raising me." But I succeeded. And while they immediately retaliated by stripping away every investment intended to mold me into a trophy wife, they were stuck covering my basic living expenses until high school graduation due to a clause in the trust. As for college tuition and making my way in the world? That was entirely on me now. Sitting in the classroom, the surreal reality of my situation finally settled over me. I drifted my gaze to the seat a few rows ahead and to my left. Caleb Miller. Just then, a cool breeze swept through the open window, puffing up his oversized white collared shirt. He radiated that raw, indomitable energy of youth. A smile played on his lips, and that habitual arrogance in his eyes was replaced by a rare tenderness. And all of it was directed solely at the girl beside him. Maya Jenkins. She wasn't just his deskmate; she was his girlfriend. They were the perfect, envy-inducing golden couple, inseparable since freshman year. Even the school administration, which usually frowned upon teenage romance, looked the other way. They were both top-tier students; being together didn't negatively impact their academic performance. In fact, the teachers used them to spur on other students: "You want to date? Fine. Make sure your combined GPA beats Caleb and Maya first." But who could have guessed? This seemingly unshakable teenage love would still fall apart. In my previous life, that breakup allowed me—the thief hiding in the shadows, coveting their happiness—to pick up Caleb on the rebound. For a time, I was actually naive enough to be thrilled. It wasn't until after the wedding that Caleb’s bone-deep indifference hit me. Even in the intimacy of our bedroom, he acted like he was merely checking items off a tedious checklist. It was a cold awakening. I realized that even though I "possessed" him, he was not the brilliant boy I had adored from afar. I screamed at him. I cried. I even steeled my heart and demanded a divorce. But he refused. He claimed he had to fulfill his "duties as a husband." Faced with my perceived emotional outbursts, he offered only a stonewall of silence. The time he spent at home grew shorter and shorter, until he practically lived at the office. I dissolved in self-pity, gradually losing my sense of self, growing darker and more melancholy with each passing day. Until finally, one fateful day. Caleb was driving me to a routine medical check-up. We were involved in a horrific accident. When that massive semi-truck lost control and ploughed directly toward us, my only feeling in that split second wasn't fear, but a twisted sense of liberation. The impact was cataclysmic, instantly crushing my consciousness. In the hazy twilight between life and death, I thought I saw Caleb cradling my blood-drenched body, breaking down in uncontrollable, agonizing sobs. But I quickly dismissed the notion. I thought, with bitter irony, Why would Caleb ever cry for me? When I opened my eyes again, I thought I had survived. Instead, I had been reborn, waking up directly in the middle of my high school years. I looked at the two figures leaning into each other ahead of me, and the last lingering ghost in my heart evaporated. Perhaps my youth was meant to be lived a different way this time. 02 "Chloe, are you absolutely sure about this?" In the quiet of the guidance office, Mrs. Evans was staring at me, her expression grave. Even after I nodded, she still looked bewildered. "I know your math and science scores are exceptional, but didn't you always insist on focusing on the Humanities track? Why the sudden change of heart?" I kept my head bowed. In my previous life, the Humanities track was forced upon me by my parents. The reasoning was insultingly simple: Maya Jenkins—the girl Caleb loved—was a Humanities major. Their strategy was to have me mimic Caleb's current girlfriend in hopes of stealing his affection. Reborn, I obviously didn't need to follow their playbook anymore. I lifted my head, offering the counselor a bright, open smile. "Because the light finally turned on." Though my cryptic response confused her, Mrs. Evans was visibly relieved I had returned to the STEM track. With orientation over and my major declared, the official track assignments were scheduled for the end of the break. On the very last day of vacation, I visited a local salon. I had my long hair and heavy, face-hiding bangs chopped off, replacing them with a sleek, shoulder-length bob. "Wow, little sister, you have a great fashion sense," the stylist, Tony, gushed as he finished. He examined my reflection in the mirror, not skimping on praise. "Your face shape is perfect for this bob. It gives you a much more sophisticated look!" I looked at the utterly new version of myself in the mirror and smiled with satisfaction. On the first day back, classmates swarmed me, their faces painted with shock. "Chloe, you cut your hair?" "That bob looks amazing on you! It’s a completely different vibe!" "Yeah, definitely! Like one of those sophisticated women doctors in zombie movies!" The buzzing from my classmates attracted the attention of Caleb Miller, who had been resting his head on his desk with his eyes closed. He turned casually, cast a single, indifferent glance my way, and then turned back. My parents’ desire for me to become a Miller daughter-in-law was purely one-sided wishful thinking. Currently, our family didn't even have the social standing to speak with the Millers as equals. My parents had to pull significant strings just to find out which school Caleb was attending. So, while I had been indoctrinated with Caleb’s likes and dislikes since childhood, I had never actually interacted with him. To Caleb, I was a complete and utter stranger. That suited me just fine. I intended to keep it that way. 03 The junior year academic grind passed in a blur. During the fall semester, I worked hard to fill the gaps in knowledge I had neglected in my first life. Now, I was finally back to my true ranking. In my previous life, even before the track split, my STEM scores consistently ranked me in the top ten of the entire grade. Now, backed by the memories of my previous life, I had broken into the top five. By the mid-term exams of junior year, I had actually pushed my way up to second place. Only Caleb Miller remained, managing to stay one head above me. "Holy crap, Caleb! Looks like you might not keep that number one spot for long!" "This Chloe girls is in our class, right? Are you guys close?" A crowd of students had gathered in front of the Honor Roll bulletin board to check rankings. I happened to overhear the exchange between Caleb and one of his friends. Caleb didn't answer immediately. He stared fixatedly at the scores on the Honor Roll—the mere five-point gap between us. He stared for over a minute before turning to leave, tossing back a single, cold response to his friend: "Not close." Shortly after the start of the spring semester, our AP Calculus teacher presented a complex competition problem. He framed it as a practice test for those interested in joining the Academic Decathlon math team. Ever since declaring my STEM major, I had intended to participate in Academic Decathlon. I knew that only by climbing higher peaks could I gain more scholarships and truly secure my independence. This was my chance to paint my youth with a completely new color. One by one, students attempted the problem and failed, until silence settled over the entire class. I raised my hand. And I solved it. The classroom erupted. "Holy... Chloe is a beast! She solved a problem that even Caleb couldn't do!" "Looks like Chloe taking Caleb's number one spot is practically guaranteed now." "Seriously, Chloe’s improved so fast. She has total 'academic weapon' energy now. I think I'm catching academic-attraction!" "Academic-attraction my ass, you just think Chloe is hot!" My classmates were laughing and chatting, but then, someone suddenly asked: "Hey, do you guys think Chloe and Caleb make a good couple?" "They're both gorgeous, and they're both geniuses!" "Hard to say. Even though we're in the same class, I've never seen Chloe even talk to Caleb. They act like total strangers." "Plus, Caleb has a girlfriend!" "Look, Maya is completely different from Chloe. Chloe clearly isn't Caleb's type." "That's fine, she's my type." "Get lost, loser. Like a smart girl like Chloe would even look at you." I heard every word of my classmates’ gossip. Internally, I just smiled with indifference. I didn't care. While I was focused on researching Decathlon problems, I didn't notice Caleb, seated ahead of me, turn back to look at me, his expression unreadable. The eve of the State Decathlon competition coincided with mid-terms. And it was during these mid-term exams that I finally surpassed Caleb, taking the number one spot in the STEM track. My classmates, witnessing this historic moment, swarmed to congratulate me. After thanking them, my only thought was tomorrow’s competition. I had cleared the local and regional rounds, and the State Finals were next. Caleb and I were both pinned as the Decathlon team's key competitors. Our beaming faculty advisor led us to the state capital. On the day of the finals, I proved that sleeping only four hours a night to practice Decathlon problems was worth it. In mathematics, while raw talent is paramount, hard work can never be discounted. I didn't consider myself naturally gifted; I just made sure I was the hardest worker. When I was announced as the Decathlon Gold Medalist, my heart swelled with pride—pride that I had genuinely changed my path, pride that I had truly grown this far. Looking up at the judges’ panel, I saw the legendary elderly academic I had been dying to meet. "Professor Thompson, I want to be your research assistant." I summoned all my courage to make my request at the post-awards reception. The professor was stunned, but when he processed my words, his gaze turned appreciative. "You're interested in Aerospace Engineering?" I nodded vigorously. The professor smiled and gave me his contact information, telling me to contact him whenever I was ready to visit his lab at MIT. That was my entire purpose in competing—securing the Academic Decathlon National Championship junior year guaranteed me a full-ride scholarship to any top-tier school and the chance to start research early. It also meant I could start making money sooner to pay back the million dollars I owed the Bennetts. Our advisor patted my shoulder, visibly moved. "Chloe, that is not an easy path." "But having such high ambitions... I support you!" With the competition over, I had achieved my goals: I secured my future, met my mentor, and verbalized my ambitions. Everything was unfolding according to plan, and I was genuinely happy. Letting myself relax, I spent hours wandering through the streets of the unfamiliar city. As dusk settled, I strolled back to our hotel. We were scheduled for an early flight back the next morning. However, as I reached the hotel entrance, I saw Caleb Miller standing there. He looked like he was waiting for someone. I didn't ask; after all, as my classmates had noted, reborn or not, I truly wasn't close to him. I intended to pretend I hadn't seen him and walk straight past. But he stopped me. I froze, lifting my head to meet his profound, dark eyes. "The advisor noticed you hadn't checked in yet. He sent me down to look for you." He stated his purpose, and I nodded in realization. I apologized, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I’m sorry. I was wandering and lost track of time." "Thank you for looking. Go back up and rest, we have to be up early tomorrow." With that, I prepared to leave. I hadn't taken two steps before my wrist was grabbed. Stunned, I turned back to look at Caleb in confusion. "Caleb, is there something else?" Caleb remained silent, just staring at me with an intense gaze, eyes swirling with emotions I couldn't decipher. After a long moment, he finally spoke. "Do we have beef?" I was completely baffled by his question. I shook my head. "No—" "Then why have you been ignoring me this entire time?" Caleb stared straight at me, his eyes demanding answers. 04 I was stunned by the question, instinctively trying to pull my wrist back, but his grip only tightened. The teenager’s palm was warm, with a layer of calluses from basketball, and his strength was unsettlingly intense. "I'm not ignoring you." I tried to keep my voice as level as possible. "We just aren't close. I didn't think we had anything to talk about." That was the truth. In my previous life, right up until the wedding, the total number of sentences we had ever exchanged didn't exceed fifty. He was always busy with Miller family affairs. I was always obsessed with figuring out how to make him happy. We were like two parallel lines—forced together under the same roof, but never truly touching. Caleb’s brow furrowed. The lamplight fell across his high nose bridge, casting a small shadow. "Not close?" He repeated the words, his tone carrying an unreadable quality. "From freshman year until now, we've sat in the same classroom for nearly two years." "You don't even say hello when we pass." "Last time in front of the Honor Roll, when my friend asked who you were, I actually couldn't answer him." I remained silent. I couldn't very well tell him that I had spent an entire previous life watching him love someone else. Knowing I was just a substitute, I only wanted to stay far away from him in this life. "At the state finals, the auxiliary line method you used for the last problem..." He suddenly switched topics, his gaze locked on my face. "That was a method I used in Academic Decathlon prep middle school. Besides that teacher, nobody knew that specific shortcut." My heart skipped a beat. I had seen that in an old notebook while organizing his study years ago in my previous life. I had foolishly memorized it for the longest time. I thought that maybe one day it would prove useful, giving us something in common to talk about. I never imagined that in this life, it would be used in this context. "Coincidence, I guess." I looked away, not daring to meet his eyes. "I’ve seen similar problem types when drilling practice tests." He stared at me heavily for several seconds before suddenly letting go of my hand. "Maybe." He turned around and walked into the hotel, his voice drifting back carelessly. "Get some rest. Don't be late for the flight tomorrow." I stood rooted to the spot, watching his back disappear behind the revolving doors, before finally letting out a breath. At some point, my palm had started sweating, and a trace of his warmth still lingered on the wrist he had grabbed. Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Caleb’s reaction today was too strange. Why would he suddenly care if I was ignoring him? Was it because I stole his number one ranking? Or because of that specific math solution? I thought about it for half an hour but couldn't come up with a logical answer. Sanguine by nature, I pulled out the reading list Professor Thompson had given me. After flipping two pages, I was completely immersed. The world of Aerospace Engineering was like a vast sea of stars; once I dived in, nothing else mattered. Life after returning from the competition went back to normal. 05 Every day consisted of classes, drilling problems, camping in the library, and occasionally working odd jobs to earn some spending money. The National Merit semifinalist list—the pool for guaranteed college scholarships—was finalized, and as long as I maintained my current grades, I would be heading to MIT next fall. My parents called twice. Their tone carried a cautious test, asking if I would reconsider switching back to the Humanities track. They said the Miller family was expanding into new business sectors, and a daughter-in-law with a Humanities background would be a better fit. I hung up on them immediately, and they didn't call again. Maya Jenkins did, however, corner me once. It was a rainy Tuesday in December. She stopped me right at the entrance of the main academic building. She was wearing a soft pink cardigan, long hair flowing over her shoulders, looking gentle and lovely. "Chloe, can we talk for a minute?" I was slightly bewildered, having no idea why Maya Jenkins would be seeking me out. But I nodded and followed her to the edge of the campus quad, under the shelter of the old oak trees. "Are you in love with Caleb?" She cut straight to the chase, her eyes filled with wary suspicion. I froze for a second, utterly confused. "Why would you even ask that? I don't even know him." "Then why do you always fight him for the number one spot?" "Why did you use his specific, secret math method at the state finals?" "Why did you suddenly cut your hair and change your whole look?" The questions shot out of her like rapid-fire, her voice trembling slightly. "You weren't like this before. You never cared about competing with anyone." I finally understood. To her, every change I had made was to get Caleb's attention. In my previous life, she would have been right. Her intuition was spot on; the only thing wrong was the timeline. "Maya," I looked into her eyes, speaking with utter seriousness. "I did all of this for myself." "I want to go to MIT and research Aerospace Engineering." "I want to make enough money to repay the Bennetts. None of this has anything to do with Caleb Miller." She clearly didn't believe me, biting her lip. "Then why do you always ignore him? Why don't you dare to speak to him?" "Because there's no need to." I shrugged. "He and I are not in the same world, and we never will be in the future." "You can relax. I have zero interest in Caleb Miller." "Besides, I’m avoiding Caleb, aren’t I? I don’t talk to him at all. That’s the furthest possible thing from a relationship, isn’t it?" "Why are you so insecure?" Having said my piece, I turned and walked away without looking back. I heard her choked-up voice saying something behind me, but I didn't hear it clearly and didn't want to. Deep down, I was actually a little disappointed. In my previous life, Maya Jenkins had always been Caleb's "white moonlight." And as a Humanities major who consistently ranked at the top of her track, I had assumed she was also a very brilliant, secure person. I never imagined that in this life, she would lower herself to petty jealousy! From that day on, the way Maya looked at me changed, carrying a definite edge of hostility.
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