At sixteen, I was known as the ugly girl of my class. Caleb Pierce mistook me for the school beauty. We dated online for two years, but on the day we finally met in person, he realized he had added the wrong Snapchat account. Feeling humiliated, he relentlessly bullied me for three years. Because of him, I bombed my SATs and failed to get into a good college. Years later, his career and love life were booming, while I was tragically assaulted and murdered while working a dead-end night shift. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to being sixteen. Back to the exact day Caleb and I had promised to meet in real life. 1 I distinctly remember dying. I died on a freezing winter night, in a hotel room reeking of cheap alcohol. A heavy-set man with a flushed, greasy face had his thick hands wrapped tightly around my neck, squeezing the air out of my lungs. My consciousness stalled for a fraction of a second. Then, the agonizing pain vanished. I snapped my eyes open, only to be completely stunned by the sight in front of me. Row upon row of wooden school desks. I looked down and realized there was a stack of high school textbooks and two brand-new prep school uniforms resting on the desk in front of me. I was surrounded by familiar faces from high school. At the front of the room, our homeroom teacher, Mr. Harrison, was smiling and introducing himself to the class. But… hadn’t Mr. Harrison retired years ago? Before I could even process what was happening, footsteps echoed from the hallway. "Excuse me—" My heart seized. That voice. Could it be…? I looked toward the door. A tall boy dressed in black stood there, a lazy, arrogant smirk playing on his lips, his posture radiating a careless entitlement. A full-body shudder racked through me, and I nearly screamed out loud. Caleb Pierce! It was Caleb Pierce! My heart pounded violently against my ribs. Pure terror, heavily laced with a deep, venomous hatred, surged through my veins. My fingers curled into fists unconsciously, my nails digging so hard into my palms that they broke the skin. The sharp sting in my hands confirmed it. I really had been reborn. I was sixteen again. It was the first day of sophomore year—the exact day Caleb and I had agreed to finally meet in person. 2 A vast majority of the misery in my life started the moment I met Caleb Pierce. When I hit middle school, puberty hit me like a truck. I gained a lot of weight, and my face broke out in severe acne. The boys in my class constantly made fun of me. I was already introverted, but over time, the relentless teasing shattered my self-esteem. I became so insecure I barely spoke to anyone. And Caleb happened to appear right when I was at my loneliest. He had been trying to add our math tutor's Snapchat, but carelessly typed the wrong username and added me instead. When the mix-up was cleared up, Caleb didn’t delete me. Instead, he offered to be my friend. I didn’t say no. Because back then, I was just so unbelievably lonely. Just like that, we started an online relationship that lasted two years. By the end of freshman year, Caleb wanted to meet in person. I was terrified and didn't know what to do. I wanted to see him too, but I was so scared he would find me ugly that I couldn't bring myself to agree. Sensing my hesitation, Caleb sent me a message. It was that exact message that dragged me into a living hell. [Mia, I know how amazing you are. I don't care about your looks. I like you for what's on the inside.] I fell for his sweet lies and promised that if we both got accepted into Oakridge Preparatory Academy, we would meet. In my past life, we agreed to meet at the local amusement park this very afternoon. He said he wanted to take me on the Ferris wheel. I wore a white sundress I had bought specifically for the occasion, my heart fluttering with joy as I went to see him. But the moment he laid eyes on me, his face dropped. He looked at me in sheer disbelief. "You're... Mia?" I nodded, smiling at him. "Yeah, I'm Mia." While I was overflowing with happiness, Caleb's face darkened into a furious scowl. He coldly pulled out his phone and made a call. Minutes later, three or four vicious-looking guys showed up. They were Caleb's lackeys. On Caleb's orders, the boys dragged me into a dirty alleyway behind the park and beat me mercilessly. It started to drizzle. My pristine white dress was quickly ruined by muddy footprints and grime. Caleb kicked me square in the stomach, sending a wave of agony through me that felt like my internal organs were rupturing. I struggled to call his name, desperately wanting to ask why he was doing this to me. He cut me off with a vicious spit. "Ugly bitch, do you think you have the right to say my name? You're hideous, and you dared to impersonate my goddess?! Have you no shame?!" "Stay the hell away from me. You make me sick!" That was when I finally realized that Caleb truly had added the wrong account back then. The person he had originally meant to add was his longtime crush, the school beauty. Because her name was Amelia, she also went by the nickname "Mia" online, and we happened to have the same aesthetic profile picture. He had mistaken me for her. What I thought was my salvation was nothing but a cruel, twisted mistake. 3 At the door, Caleb casually explained to the teacher that he had walked into the wrong classroom earlier. Since it was the first day of school, Mr. Harrison didn't make a big deal out of it and gestured for him to find an empty seat. Staring at his back, I fell into deep thought. The girl Caleb truly liked was Amelia Sterling, the famously brilliant and beautiful valedictorian-track goddess. In our past life, to follow in her footsteps, Caleb played the role of a reformed good boy. He spent three years grinding his way up from the bottom of the class, successfully reversing his bad grades to get accepted into an elite Ivy League university. Amelia was so moved by his dedication and perseverance that she accepted his confession right after graduation. The teachers literally used his turnaround as an inspiring success story, even inviting him back to give motivational speeches to the underclassmen. He reaped the rewards of a beautiful romance, flowers, and applause. Meanwhile, in a dark corner nobody cared about, I bombed my SATs. Caleb viewed my existence as a stain on his pride. He used me as his personal punching bag to relieve his academic stress, bullying me relentlessly for three entire years. In the end, my scores were so low I couldn't even get into a regular state college; I had to settle for a local community college. Without a solid degree, my adult life was a brutal struggle. To pay off the massive medical debts from my dad's cancer treatments, I sold our house and worked multiple exhausting part-time jobs. Just when I was finally about to pay off the last of the debt, I crossed paths with a drunk, lust-crazed customer and was killed. The memories flashed through my mind like a horrifying movie reel. It wasn't until the phone in my pocket buzzed that I snapped back to reality. Caleb had sent me a text. [Mia, what are you wearing today? I seriously can't wait to see you!] [Heart-eyes emoji] Staring at the screen, a wave of nausea washed over me. He was clearly a shallow prick who only cared about appearances, yet he had the audacity to claim he didn't care about my looks. It was absolutely sickening. I didn't want any more ties to Caleb. Without a second thought, I typed back: [I'm over this.] [Let's delete each other. There's no need for us to meet.] The moment I hit send, I blocked his number and deleted his Snapchat. As soon as the opening day assembly was over, I rushed straight home. The moment I pushed open the front door, the familiar, long-lost aroma of home-cooked food hit me. My dad, wearing his faded floral apron, was busy in the kitchen preparing lunch. Seeing me, he waved his spatula with a bright smile. "Mia, you're back! I made your favorite homemade fried chicken. Go wash your hands, food's almost ready!" Staring at his back, my eyes instantly welled up with tears. Afraid he would notice something was wrong, I hurried into the bathroom to wash my face and compose myself. By the time I came out, the food was already on the table. I picked up a piece of chicken and took a bite. The nostalgic taste exploded in my mouth, sending warmth through my entire body. The tear I had been holding back finally slipped down my cheek. Seeing me cry, my dad panicked. "What's wrong, sweetie? Why are you crying? Does it taste bad?" I shook my head frantically. "No, it's just so good. I'm crying because it's delicious." In my past life, my dad passed away from stomach cancer during my second year of community college. I never dreamed I would get the chance to eat his cooking again. Hearing my answer, my dad breathed a sigh of relief. He reached out and affectionately ruffled my hair. "Eat up if you like it. You need a full stomach so you have energy to hang out with your friends later." During middle school, I didn't have any friends. I spent every weekend locked in my room. Knowing I was supposedly going out with a "new friend" today made him incredibly happy for me. Of course, I had no intention of going to see Caleb. To keep my dad from worrying, I didn't explain anything. After I finished eating, I simply left the house. Even though I had already blocked Caleb, I still felt a lingering unease. This second chance at life was too precious. Just to be safe, I headed straight to the Verizon store and completely changed my phone number. The late summer sun was blazing hot. Stepping out of the phone store, I finally let out a long sigh of relief. With this, Caleb wouldn't be able to track me down anymore... right? 4 For the next two months, Caleb didn't bother me. But just when I thought I had successfully shaken him off and was ready to dive fully into my studies, a crumpled note suddenly appeared inside my desk. A line of aggressive, messy handwriting glared up at me: [Don't leave after school. Wait for me, or else!] My stomach tied in knots. I wasn't entirely sure if Caleb wrote it. To test the waters, I crumpled the note and threw it into the trash can right in front of him. As I turned around, I caught his reaction in my peripheral vision. He didn't seem to react much at all. I thought maybe I was just being paranoid. But the very next day, I found another note in my desk. This time, it read: [Ugly bitch, if you run after school today, you're dead!] My heart sank. "Ugly bitch" was Caleb's signature insult. I had heard him spit those exact words at me countless times in my past life. I was practically positive Caleb was the one leaving the notes. But why... Why was he still coming after me when I had gone out of my way to avoid him? I took the note straight to our homeroom teacher, Mr. Harrison. Being bullied by Caleb for three years was the ultimate nightmare of my past life. I absolutely refused to let history repeat itself. Mr. Harrison was an English teacher with thick black-rimmed glasses who carried a strict, no-nonsense aura. He examined the note and asked if I had offended anyone recently. I shook my head. "No, I get along fine with everyone, and I haven't gotten into any arguments. I got a similar note yesterday, but I didn't think much of it. But since it happened again today, I got really scared, so I decided to tell you." Mr. Harrison patted my shoulder. "You did the right thing. When you encounter problems, don't keep them to yourself. Always communicate with a teacher." He told me to head back to class and to report to him immediately if anything else happened. I nodded earnestly. As I turned my head to leave, a small smile crept onto my lips. Mr. Harrison was incredibly sharp and knew every student's handwriting like the back of his hand. I was confident that within two days, he would get to the bottom of this. Caleb wanted to play the good student? I was going to make sure the teachers saw exactly what kind of disgusting trash he really was. Sure enough, by Friday afternoon, Mr. Harrison called Caleb into his office. When Caleb returned to the classroom, his face was as dark as thunderclouds. It was obvious he had just been chewed out. Being young and hot-headed, he purposefully slammed his hip into my desk as he walked past me. Two of my books fell to the floor, and he viciously stomped on them. Before I could even speak, my desk-mate beat me to it. He lazily lifted his eyelids and let out a mocking scoff. "Caleb, how are you this mentally deficient? You look like a brain-damaged toddler who can't even walk down an aisle without crashing into furniture." Caleb, who was already overflowing with rage and desperate for a target, immediately exploded. "Shut up, you cheating dog! Are you begging to get expelled?!" We had reshuffled seats a week ago, and my new desk-mate, Declan Hayes, was notoriously ruthless. During the very first placement exams of the year, he was caught red-handed cheating by the Dean. As punishment, he was kicked out of the Honors track and dropped down to the Regular classes. He already had one major strike on his permanent record. If he got another, the school would expel him. Declan raised an eyebrow, a dangerously casual smile on his face. "Hard to say. Maybe the school will expel you first?" I fully expected Caleb to escalate the fight. Instead, he just shot Declan a venomous glare. "I don't have time for trash like you. Bad luck." He turned to me. "Mia, you just wait!" After dropping that empty threat, Caleb actually walked away. I was genuinely surprised. Swallowing his pride and walking away was definitely not Caleb's usual style... Did Declan have some kind of blackmail on him?
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