I woke up on the day I first confessed my love to my childhood best friend. In the middle of the crowded hall, with everyone egging us on, he looked at my tear-streaked face and said in a cold voice: "Elara, don't you think this is a little desperate?" Then he turned, his expression softening for the girl next to him—his perfect, unattainable crush. "Stella, just a sec. I'll deal with this and meet you." He turned back to me, annoyed. "Why are you always crying?" he sighed. "You should try reading a book, Elara. Stop obsessing over this stupid high school romance." I was so tired of his voice. I shoved him. I shoved him, hard, and ran past him to the guy leaning against the lockers, the one everyone else was ignoring. I threw my arms around the school's bad boy. "Husband..." I buried my face in his chest and sobbed. Kai was still alive. Eighteen years old and alive. I wasn't too late. 01 The last thing I did was make Kai a promise. He held my hand, his grip weak, and made me swear I'd live to be a hundred before I came to find him. I promised. I lied. Three days later, I followed him. I told myself that if I saw him in the afterlife, I'd say I had a dream he was flirting with other ghosts. The truth was, I hadn't dreamed at all. I couldn't sleep without him. When I opened my eyes again, I was eighteen. I was holding a bouquet. The hallway was loud. "Do it! Do it! Kiss him!" People were pushing me, but my eyes scanned the crowd and found him in an instant—that stupid, bleached-blonde hair. He was in the corner, trying to look bored, his eyes flicking toward me when he thought no one was looking. I saw him, and the tears just came. I tried to speak, but Ethan's voice cut through. "Elara, don't you think this is a little desperate?" I finally saw the boy in front of me. Frowning. Annoyed. The noise died. Stella, the other academic star, broke the silence. "Ethan, we need to go over our speech for the assembly." Ethan's face melted. "Just a sec. I'll deal with this and meet you." Stella was just like him. A straight-A robot. People always said they were the perfect "power couple." Stella once said, "I'm not like other girls. I don't have time for drama." Ethan had looked at her like she was a goddess. He'd told me the same thing. "I don't like girls who are all about drama." And for my entire life, I had been nothing but drama for him. I'd actually thought that confessing my love on my birthday, in front of everyone, would force him to be nice. I'd forgotten. He hates being forced. He took the flowers from my hands. "You should try reading a book, Elara. Stop obsessing over this stupid high school romance." 02 I just stared. The whispers started. "Oh my god, look at her. She's crying." "She's been simping for Ethan for years. This is brutal." "I'm cringing so hard right now." In my first life, I had cried. I'd run away, humiliated. But now, my eyes were locked on the boy in the corner. I looked right at Kai, my mouth open, trying to find my voice. The tears just wouldn't stop. Ethan saw me. He actually sighed. "Elara, why are you always crying?" I was so sick of him. He was in my way. I shoved him, hard, and ran. I launched myself at the person I'd lost. "Husband..." I clung to him, my voice muffled in his shirt. "Kai... you're alive... you're alive..." His chest was warm. He smelled like sunshine and soap. I just held on and sobbed. The body in my arms went completely rigid. "Whoa... hey. I think you... got the wrong guy, dude." His face was bright red. 03 "Elara, who the hell are you calling 'husband'?" Ethan's voice was sharp, angry. "Are you really pulling this stunt again?" He was right. In my first life, I'd constantly tried to make him jealous by flirting with other guys. This time, though, it was with Kai. The one person Ethan truly despised. I just cried harder, clinging to Kai. "You're alive, you're alive, you're alive..." I couldn't believe it. My hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, trying to get under it. I had to check. I had to know the scar, the one that killed him, wasn't there. Kai completely freaked out. "Whoa! What the hell are you doing?!" "Let me see!" I sobbed. "Take off your shirt, let me see!" His face went from red to purple. "I'm not a stripper!" "Please, Kai, I have to see... please..." He was frozen, his hands hovering in the air. Finally, he hissed, "Fine! Just... wait 'til we're not in the damn hallway, okay?!" Ethan looked at us, his face a mask of pure disgust. "Elara, you're a mess. Have some self-respect." He turned and left. The crowd broke up. 04 "Okay, drama queen. You can let go now." Kai's voice was rough, but I just shook my head, my arms locked around his neck. "No. I'm never letting go." At eighteen, my legs weren't broken. I wasn't depressed. At eighteen, Kai hadn't taken a knife for me. There was still time. He sighed. "I'm walking. Are you coming?" "Mmmph." He just... picked me up. Princess-style. As we were leaving the hall, the principal spotted us. "Kai! You're supposed to be at practice! What are you doing, carrying a student around?" I just buried my face in his neck. Kai, without missing a beat, said, "She broke her leg, Mr. Henderson. Taking her to the nurse." The principal softened. "Oh. Well. Good on you, son." He'd done the same thing in my last life. Carried me everywhere. When we were alone, he put me down. He looked exasperated. "Okay, Elara. What is this?" I just wrapped my arms around his neck again. "Husband..." He looked like he was going to have a stroke. "Stop! Calling! Me! That! Who is your husband?!" "You are..." I said, my voice tiny. "My favorite husband..." He looked at the ceiling, as if praying for strength. "Elara," he said, through gritted teeth. "Did you forget you're the one who threw my letter in the trash yesterday?" Oh. Right. That. He'd confessed to me. I'd crumpled the note and thrown it at his chest. "I hate meatheads like you," I'd sneered. "All muscle, no brain." I'd only done it because Ethan hated him. I looked up at him, trying to look as sincere as possible. "That... that was a test. To see if your love was true." I leaned in. "And Kai? I'm only ever going to love you." He winced. "Can you just... not call me 'husband'?" "No." "Fine!" he exploded. "Call me whatever you want! Just... can you... can you stop hanging on me?" "But I want to hug you." His throat bobbed. His ears were bright red. God, he was cute at eighteen.
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