Chapter 2

"It's your decision, Ethan," I said, my voice even, devoid of the panic I felt in my past life. "The check-in deadline is 8:00 AM sharp. The testing rooms are a good ten-minute walk from the check-in tables once you're inside."

I stepped back, finding a spot of shade under an old oak tree near the parking lot entrance, a little distance from the group.

Ms. Evans, the new student teacher assigned to my class, looked at me with wide, concerned eyes. She' d arrived a few minutes before me, clearly flustered by the students' refusal to enter.

"Ms. Miller, shouldn't we…?" she began, her voice a nervous whisper.

"They're seniors, Ms. Evans," I said, loud enough for the closer students to hear. "They're old enough to manage their time."

Ethan scoffed, a sharp, dismissive sound. "She' ll be here any minute, Ms. Miller. Don' t worry about us."

He radiated a smug confidence, the kind only the truly ignorant possess. The other students mirrored his assurance, their anxiety momentarily forgotten, replaced by a collective defiance.

I pulled out my phone, not to check the time obsessively as I would have before, but to send a quick text to my father.

'At Northwood. Students delaying entry. Documenting everything. Don' t worry. Love you.'

He replied almost instantly. 'We know. Stay safe. We have your back. Love you too.'

This was my "special element," my parents. In my past life, Jessi destroyed them by isolating me first. This time, they knew the potential for trouble, knew the players involved. My rebirth wasn't just mine; it was theirs too, in a way. A chance to avert their own tragedy.

7:40 AM.

The minutes crawled by.

A flashy pink convertible, Jessi' s, finally squealed into the parking lot, music blaring.

She emerged like a celebrity stepping onto a red carpet, sunglasses perched on her head, a fake, apologetic smile plastered on her face.

"Oh my god, you guys, I am SO sorry!" Jessi exclaimed, loud enough for everyone, including me, to hear. "My stupid alarm didn't go off, and then there was, like, this insane traffic on Elm Street!"

Elm Street was in the opposite direction of her house. A blatant lie, delivered with practiced ease.

The students, however, lapped it up.

"It's okay, Jessi!"

"We waited for you!"

Ethan beamed, rushing to her side, taking her designer backpack. "See, Ms. Miller? Told you she'd be here."

Jessi' s eyes flicked to me, a tiny, almost imperceptible flash of surprise that I was still there, observing calmly, not frantic or scolding. Then, her gaze hardened with a familiar malice before she turned back to her adoring crowd.

"You guys are the best!" she gushed.

The final warning bell from inside the school building, signaling five minutes to check-in deadline, chimed faintly.

I felt a grim satisfaction. They were cutting it incredibly close.

In my past life, this was when I physically herded them. I remembered the chaos, the shouting, Jessi' s crocodile tears when she was inevitably too late for the main check-in, leading to a rushed, botched secondary process that still made her miss the start.

This time, I watched.

"Okay, guys, before we go in," Jessi announced, rummaging in her oversized tote bag. "I got us all something for good luck!"

She pulled out a handful of cheap, brightly colored charm bracelets, the kind with tiny, clinking metal pieces.

"Aren't they cute? We all have to wear one!"

My stomach clenched. The bracelets. That was new. Or perhaps a detail I' d forgotten from the blur of the first time.

Ethan took one immediately. "Awesome, Jessi!"

The other students cooed, eagerly taking the trinkets.

"Ms. Miller, don't you want one?" Jessi called out, her voice dripping with false sweetness, holding one out towards me.

I just shook my head, a small, dismissive laugh escaping me. "No, thank you, Jessica. You all should really hurry."

Ethan frowned. "She' s just trying to be nice, Ms. Miller. You don't have to be like that."

"Yeah, always such a downer," someone muttered from the group.

I watched them, a knot of amusement tightening in my chest. Distributing trinkets with less than five minutes to go. They were sealing their own fate, and Jessi was leading the charge, a pied piper of self-sabotage.