Chapter 2

From then on, Jaxon and Aspen weren't hiding anything.

They skipped afternoon classes to film dance trends on the football field.

They spent their weekends getting wasted at VIP club events instead of training.

One day between periods, I was rummaging through my locker for my next class's textbooks when I heard the unmistakable sound of kissing.

I glanced over. Just a few lockers down, Jaxon and Aspen were pressed against the metal doors, making out heavily.

I grabbed my books and turned to head to class, which meant walking right past them.

As I approached, Jaxon suddenly stretched out an arm, blocking my path.

"Maeve, do me a favor and stop spamming my inbox with your boring tactical analysis."

He pulled Aspen closer by her waist.

"Aspen showed me that a youth without your pathetic data is actually more than worth living."

Aspen immediately feigned shyness, burying her face against his chest.

"Excuse me." I didn't even give him the dignity of eye contact.

I slammed my shoulder hard into his chest, shoved past him, and kept walking.

"You—" Jaxon spat behind me, his voice echoing down the hallway.

"You're going to regret this, Maeve! Just watch!"

Cutting Jaxon out of my life freed up a massive amount of processing power.

My brain was finally running like a supercomputer at maximum capacity.

Before I died, I was already a top-tier researcher, but I still needed to adjust my stamina back to the grueling high school workload.

I poured every ounce of my energy into my Ivy League Early Action applications.

My absolute priority was locking down the National Robotics Fellowship.

I stayed up drafting intricate mechanical exoskeleton blueprints under the harsh glare of my desk lamp.

The phantom pain in my knuckles fueled my desperate obsession to protect my hands.

To me, Jaxon and Aspen’s wild partying wasn't even worth a single line of code.

By the end of the fall semester, the natural order had brutally reasserted itself.

Jaxon's grades had completely tanked, dropping him to the absolute bottom of the senior class.

Meanwhile, my GPA sat securely at number one.

I was sitting quietly in the office, finalizing my MIT recommendation letters.

Without my forged homework and pre-game data feeds, Jaxon's hockey career was a disaster.

He was currently getting chewed out by both the head coach and the academic counselor.

"Jaxon, if you keep playing like this, your future is over!" the coach barked.

"Forget the Ivy League, not even a state college team will want you!"

The coach grabbed a hockey stick from the corner and shoved it forcefully into Jaxon's chest.

"Find your form, Jaxon!" the coach urged. "Don't you remember the glory of raising this stick after we won the regionals last year?"

Jaxon caught the stick with one hand, loudly popping his bubblegum.

He lazily used the stick to prop himself up, draping his other arm around Aspen’s waist.

"Relax, Coach," he sneered, dripping with arrogance. "You're being way too controlling."

The office door suddenly flew open.

Mr. Pierce stormed in.

He was an aristocratic man who valued social class and family dignity above all else.

Today, he looked pale and frantic, rushing in without his usual immaculate composure.

"Shut your mouth!" he screamed. "Is that how you speak to your coach?"

He raised a trembling hand, aiming a vicious slap right at Jaxon's face.

Jaxon immediately stepped forward, shielding Aspen and grabbing his father's wrist.

"Dad, this has nothing to do with Aspen!"

"You're being completely unreasonable, don't touch her!"

This response was like pouring gasoline on an open fire.

Behind him, Aspen whipped out her phone and started recording a video.

"Why is this crazy old man trying to attack me?" she whined in a fake, teary voice. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

Mr. Pierce shook with absolute, unadulterated fury.

"You are nothing but cheap, TikTok trash!" he screamed at Aspen. "You just shake your body for views and ruin my family's pride!"

Jaxon puffed up his chest, playing the role of a misunderstood Romeo.

"Dad, how could you say that about her!"

"I am going to succeed my own way, and I will protect her!"

Mr. Pierce looked like he was on the verge of a total breakdown.

In his sheer desperation, he suddenly turned his gaze to the corner of the room.

He looked right at me.

"If you were still with Maeve, at least she would make sure you weren't a complete failure!"

My fingers instantly froze over my laptop keyboard.

I stared at the screen, my heart skipping a dangerous beat.

Hearing my name, Jaxon violently whipped his head around.

"Maeve, I knew it was you," he snarled.

His eyes narrowed with a familiar, murderous rage.

"Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

"Jaxon, what are you talking about?" Mr. Pierce asked. "The coach called me, Maeve didn't say a word to anyone."

"Apologize to Maeve right now!" he demanded.

But I didn't get an apology.

Instead, I met Jaxon's bloodshot glare.

His hands tightened around the shaft of the hockey stick the coach had just given him.

That look, and the chilling way he held that stick, reminded me exactly of the day he crushed my fingers to splintered dust.

A terrifying realization washed over me.

He had reincarnated too.