Chapter 2

Chapter 2 At lunchtime, Sam and I headed to the cafeteria.

As we were talking, a few guys carrying trays walked over.

"Is anyone sitting here?"

I shook my head, but Sam nodded while shoveling pasta into his mouth.

His fork froze mid-air, and he gave me a bewildered look. "Did you forget? We're supposed to save seats for Audrey's crew!"

His reaction made sense.

Back in high school, my shameless pursuit of Audrey was common knowledge.

Audrey once said she only accepted exclusive, unwavering devotion, and anyone who couldn't deliver should get lost.

So I swallowed my shyness and wrote her so many love letters they spilled out of her locker.

I defied school rules and confessed to her over the public intercom.

I revolved around her like a desperate satellite, only to be branded by her best friend as "the most pathetic simp in history."

Everyone knew how deeply I loved Audrey.

Looking back now, that youthful, burning passion was nothing more than a bad joke.

I motioned for the guys across the table to sit down, then turned to Sam.

"That was the past. We're not doing that anymore."

I paused, then added, "Sam, I'm serious. I don't like her anymore, and I'm done having anything to do with her."

Cutting Audrey out of my life surprisingly made my days much fuller.

I suddenly had plenty of time to study, ask teachers for help after class, and drill practice problems.

In my spare time, I shot hoops with the guys and joined school activities.

It turned out that high school life without agonizing over a girl was pure bliss.

A few days later came the finals of the annual High School Showcase.

Almost the entire class went to the auditorium to cheer for Audrey.

In my past life, a heavy stage spotlight had broken loose during her performance, nearly crushing her.

In that split second, ignoring the danger, I lunged forward and shoved her out of harm's way.

Unable to dodge in time, my legs were shredded by the falling metal and glass, leaving jagged, hideous scars.

Later in the hospital, instead of thanking me, she scolded me for making a scene and ruining her performance.

Since that was how she felt, I would simply grant her wish this time.

This time, Sam and I sat quietly in the back row, watching the show.

The classmates around us were buzzing with gossip.

"Audrey seems totally off today. She keeps scanning our section. Is she looking for someone?"

"Do you even need to ask? Whenever she competed before, Gavin would be right there handing her water and cheering at the top of his lungs. She's probably just rattled because he's not hovering around her."

I listened in silence, not agreeing with a single word.

At this point in time, Audrey didn't care about me at all.

The only reason she hadn't flat-out rejected me was because, among all her suitors, I had the lowest pride and the highest tolerance for humiliation.

The chatter instantly stopped when Audrey stepped onto the stage.

My eyes instinctively drifted to the ceiling fixture hanging above her head, my brows furrowing slightly.

The accident happened halfway through her song―about three minutes in.

It was hard to describe the storm inside me. I didn't want to see anyone get hurt, but reason screamed in my ear:

Stay far away from her, and don't let the tragedy of your past life repeat itself.

I slowly closed my eyes.

During that tense silence, a collective gasp ripped through the auditorium.

The melodious singing cut off abruptly.

In its place came a piercing cry of pain.

I opened my eyes and met her gaze across the stage.

Her legs were covered in blood, identical to how mine had been in my past life.

Her eyes were rimmed in red, brimming with tears like a frightened animal.

My heart twitched with an old instinct, and my body began to stand on autopilot.

Then, sudden flashes from my past life slammed into my mind.

Back then, she hadn't shown an ounce of pity for my bleeding legs.

Instead, she resented me for interrupting her spotlight.

Subconscious reactions never lied.

The girl I had loved for a lifetime never gave a damn about whether I lived or died.

I looked away first and turned toward the exit.

Seeing me walk off, Tara shouted in fury, "What the hell are you doing just standing there? Can't you see Audrey is bleeding? Get up there and carry her!"

"Pass. I get dizzy at the sight of blood. I'd only be in the way."

"Bullshit! You used to bandage her scrapes all the time! How could you be squeamish?"

I hadn't lied. Every single time, I had forced down the violent nausea in my gut just to take care of her first.

Then, hidden in some empty corner, I would throw up until my throat burned.

The worst episode had landed me in a hospital bed for three straight days.

I had learned enough painful lessons in my past life.

Caring about Audrey Pierce was a one-way ticket to misery.

Without bothering to explain, I walked straight out of the auditorium.

I ignored the burning, piercing gaze drilling into my back.

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