Chapter 1 I deliberately swapped my smartphone for a busted old Nokia brick that couldn't connect to the internet, let alone Apple Pay. I wasn't panicking. But Tiffany, our high school Prom Queen, was losing her mind. In my past life, right after finals, Tiffany used my phone to drain my accounts of millions. She treated the whole class to a graduation trip, leading them on a psychotic shopping spree the second we hit the tourist traps. She maxed out my cards and left me ten million dollars in debt. When I confronted her, threatening to get lawyers involved, she flipped the script. She put on her best victim face and cried to the whole class. "Savannah, just because you got scammed, you can't frame me! You're trying to pin this massive debt on me? You want to ruin my life forever?" She sobbed fake tears, and the class turned on me instantly. "You're just stupid for not watching your wallet. Trying to frame Tiffany? You're shameless." "Tiffany is an angel. You're trash." While we were arguing on the edge of a scenic cliff, they shoved me. I fell. I died. And the whole class testified it was an accident. That I slipped. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day Tiffany offered to pay for the graduation trip. I felt the Nokia in my pocket and smiled. "Graduation trip? Let's go." "Yes! School's out! Let's all go to Dubai to celebrate!" Hearing Tiffany’s familiar, high-pitched voice, I realized I had been reborn. The phantom pain of my bones shattering at the bottom of that cliff still lingered, making me tremble. I looked around at the familiar faces. Nobody responded to Tiffany at first. I knew what they were worried about. They were broke high schoolers. They couldn't afford a trip to Dubai. But then Tiffany dropped the bomb that made the room explode. "It's on me. I'm covering round-trip flights and all expenses for everyone." Boom. Suddenly, she was a goddess. The room erupted in applause. The ass-kissing began immediately. "Omg, Tiffany, you're the GOAT!" "Tiffany is literally Santa Claus. Thank you so much!" Everyone was screaming. Tiffany’s vanity was being fed like a hungry beast; she was beaming. I stood there, stone-faced. In my last life, it happened exactly like this. Just before boarding the plane, Tiffany borrowed my phone, claiming hers was dead and she needed to call her parents. I didn't think twice. But once we landed and the spending started, my phone went crazy. Transaction notifications blew up my screen. I couldn't stop it. I watched my inheritance burn until I was in debt. Later, a tech guy told me my phone had been infected with a keylogger virus. Only Tiffany had touched my phone. When I confronted her, she gaslit the hell out of me. "Savannah, I invited you out of pity! Now you're framing me?" The class sided with her. They smashed my phone to destroy the evidence. They pushed me off a cliff. They lied to the police. Because it was a foreign country with no cameras on that cliff, the case went cold. They even told my parents I committed suicide because I was broke. My family is the richest in the state. Ten million was nothing to me. But my parents didn't know that—they believed the lie and died of broken hearts. I clenched my fists. I looked at these demons in human skin and smiled. "Sounds great. Thanks for the charity, Tiffany." Tiffany linked her arm with mine, acting like we were besties. "No problem! We're classmates. You have to come, Savannah." She needed her cash cow. "Don't worry," I said, my smile not reaching my eyes. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." I had to go. I had to watch her burn. That night, the group chat was buzzing. Tiffany was reminding everyone to bring their passports. "Don't be late, guys!" "We won't! We're packing right now!" I stayed silent, lurking like a ghost, monitoring their every move. The next morning at the airport, I showed up last, just barely making the cutoff. My laziness pissed everyone off. "Why did Tiffany even invite her? She's such a buzzkill." "Tiffany is just too nice. She doesn't want anyone left out." "Some people have zero self-awareness." One guy yelled at me, "Hey! Can you hustle? Making everyone wait... you think you're the main character? You don't have the money to act this entitled." I was about to clap back when Tiffany rushed over to save her piggy bank. "Guys, chill! Savannah is just shy. You're making her uncomfortable." "She should stay home if she's shy! You spoil her too much, Tiff." "Someone needs to apologize." Chapter 2 Tiffany looked at me with fake concern. "Savannah, maybe just apologize to the group? So we can move on?" I scoffed. "Why? I'm not apologizing. I'm going home." I turned to leave. Panic flashed in Tiffany's eyes. She grabbed me. "No, no! It's fine! I'll apologize for you!" She turned to the group, acting the martyr. "Sorry guys! I apologize on Savannah's behalf. Please, do it for me?" "Ugh, Tiffany, you're a saint." "Fine, but only because you asked." Tiffany wiped her imaginary sweat. "Okay, let's go! Boarding time, ladies and gentlemen!" She herded us toward the gate. Just as we were about to board—the moment of truth. Tiffany looked distressed. "Savannah, my phone just died. Can I borrow yours? I need to call my parents and tell them I'm leaving." Here we go. The classic move. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the Nokia brick. "Sorry, Tiff. I forgot to charge my smartphone last night. I'm using my grandma's emergency burner. It’s got like 2% battery and no signal in here." Tiffany’s face dropped. It was glorious. She gritted her teeth. "Oh... okay." She didn't talk to me for the entire flight. I put on my eye mask and slept like a baby. When we landed in Dubai, Tiffany was back to her fake cheerful self. "Savannah! I booked the rooms. To save money, we're pairing up. You're with me!" "Also, I made an itinerary. We leave early tomorrow, so I'll make sure you're up." She wanted to keep me close. She was planning to steal the phone while I slept. I glared at her. "Fine." The peanut gallery chimed in again. "What is her problem? Freeloading off Tiffany and still giving attitude." "Trashy behavior." "If I were Tiffany, I'd leave her in the desert." Their insults were loud and clear. I snapped. "Are you done running your mouths? Do I need to sew your lips shut?" "Oh, you wanna go?" "Trash!" They wanted to fight, but Tiffany jumped in again. "Stop! Everyone stop! We're here to have fun!" I could see them whispering, plotting to "teach me a lesson" later. But I’m paranoid now. I don't go anywhere alone. They couldn't touch me. So they switched to the silent treatment. Isolating me. Perfect. I treated them like air. Chapter 3 The next morning, Tiffany rallied the troops. "Breakfast first, then we hit the mall! Buy whatever you want, it's on me!" "Yasss! Queen Tiffany!" The worship was real. Their smiles were disgusting. "Savannah, sit with me." Tiffany was sticking to me like glue. "Okay." After eating, Tiffany led us to the most expensive shopping district. She hired a local guide to take us to the luxury flagship stores. The moment we walked in, the greed on everyone's faces was palpable. They didn't care about the architecture or the culture. They just wanted free Gucci. Tiffany waved her hand like a billionaire. "Shop away! Grab whatever catches your eye." She glanced at me, her eyes saying, It’s your money anyway. I smirked back. Let the games begin. Tiffany shadowed me through the store. She was piling jewelry on herself, looking at me. "Savannah, you're not getting anything?" I shook my head. "Too flashy. Not my style. I'm gonna look over there." "Wait!" She panicked. "Stay here! Help me pick something out!" A second later, she tried again. "Savannah, seriously, can I borrow your phone? I need to tell my parents we landed safely. Strict household, you know?" I looked around. The class was piling up boxes of luxury goods. I smiled and pulled out the Nokia. "Here." Tiffany stared at the plastic brick like it was a bomb. "What the f*ck? You're still using this piece of junk? How do you even FaceTime?" I shrugged. "I'm broke. This is durable. Deal with it. Or borrow someone else's." "Borrow my ass!" She snapped. She was losing her cool. Her scream attracted the whole class. "Who uses a burner phone in 2025?" "Omg, she's so broke it's embarrassing." "If it wasn't for Tiffany, she'd never leave her trailer park." They thought roasting me would make Tiffany happy. But Tiffany was holding her head, looking like she was about to have a stroke. "Shut up!" Tiffany screamed. "Shut the hell up! If you keep talking, return your stuff and get out!" The class went silent. They’d never seen the "angel" rage before. Just then, the store manager approached, smiling that polite, customer-service smile. "Miss, your group has reached the purchase limit for holding items. Would you like to settle the bill before continuing?" Chapter 4 Tiffany froze. She tried to play it cool, channeling her inner Karen. "What's the rush? You think I can't afford it? We're still shopping. Are you trying to kick us out? Do you know who I am?" The manager, terrified of losing a whale, bowed. "I apologize profusely! Please, to make up for my rudeness, everything today is 20% off. Please, continue." Tiffany let out a breath she was holding. She shot a smug look at the group. "That's better." The manager ushered them back into the VIP lounge. Tiffany was sweating. I could see the gears turning in her head. She was screwed. I watched her pretend to browse. She started putting things back on the shelves surreptitiously. She whispered to the group. "Hey guys... I think this stuff is fake." The classmates paused. "What? No way. This is a flagship store." Tiffany nodded seriously. "Trust me. It's knockoffs. Put it back. I'll take you to the real high-end district later." The classmates were gullible. They started putting things down. The manager noticed. "Is something wrong?" Tiffany stayed silent, face red. But her "friends"—the loudmouths—betrayed her instantly. "The lady said your stuff is fake!" "How dare you sell us dupes!" The manager was furious. "I swear on my life, if there is a single fake item here, I will eat it!" He slapped the authenticity certificates on the table. The classmates believed the paper. "Tiffany! It's real! Can we get the stuff back?" Tiffany was shaking. She couldn't speak. I stepped forward. "No, you can't. Because she has no money." Silence. Then chaos. "Tiffany, tell her she's lying!" "You're rich, right? You promised!" Tiffany looked like she wanted to vomit. A few of the guys got aggressive. "Yo, are you pranking us? You dragged us to Dubai for this?" "Did you act rich just to clout chase?" Tiffany stayed silent. "Damn, she's broke. Let's bounce. This is embarrassing." The guys started to leave. Tiffany's minions—the pick-me girls—panicked. They blocked the exit. "Wait! Let Tiffany explain!" "Maybe her bank froze her account because she's spending too much! It happens to rich people!" I almost laughed out loud. They were digging her grave for me. Tiffany’s eyes went wide with pure hatred toward her "friends." But she had to play along. "Yes! That's it! My card got flagged for suspicious activity!" She squeezed out a few tears. The class softened immediately. "Oh, see? Just a misunderstanding." "Poor Tiffany." I watched them comfort her, suppressing a laugh.
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