Chapter 2

I stood in the shadows and watched Kenzie wave the thick envelope of cash like a cheap trophy.

In my past life, I would have charged forward the second she insulted him.

I would have screamed in her face, defending Declan’s pride with everything I had.

He was my family, and I refused to let anyone humiliate him.

But today, standing in the exact same spot, I just felt a deep amusement.

"The cash is delivered," I said. "From now on, you guys can contact him yourselves."

I turned on my heel and walked away.

I hadn't even made it to the end of the block when I heard heavy, furious footsteps behind me.

"Sloane! Stop right there!"

Declan grabbed my arm and violently spun me around.

His face was flushed a dark, angry red.

"You think this is funny?" he demanded.

"You think I'm a joke just because of what she said back there?"

I stared down at his grip on my arm until he reluctantly let go.

Declan ran a frustrated hand through his hair, already spiraling into his own delusions.

"She has to talk like that," he muttered, pacing the sidewalk.

"She was just saving face in front of her crew. That's how the streets work."

He stopped and looked at me with aggressive, defensive arrogance.

"Her world is real, Sloane. It’s a hundred times more authentic than the fake Beverly Hills garbage we live in."

I stared at him in utter disbelief.

"You heard every word she said," I replied flatly. "If you want to call being used an authentic romance, go right ahead."

When someone is determined to degrade themselves, not even God can pull them out of the gutter.

Declan’s eyes narrowed into a fierce, warning glare.

"Don't you dare breathe a word of this to my dad or Vivienne."

My biological mother and his wealthy father were the only things paying for his comfortable rebellion.

"Don't worry," I smiled faintly. "Your private life is your own business. I won't say a thing."

He scoffed, puffing out his chest to regain his shattered ego.

"Good. And for the record, I have it all under control."

"This won't mess with my grades or my career. I'm not an idiot."

But he was an idiot.

It only took one week for the rumors to infect the entire high school.

First, Declan started skipping Varsity practice without a word to the coach.

Then came the unexcused absences in the middle of the day.

The final blow was when he completely blew off the crucial college scout evaluation game.

He threw away a thousand-dollar-an-hour private coaching session just to go watch a movie with Kenzie.

Whispers echoed by the metal lockers every morning.

People saw him smoking out back with Kenzie under the stadium bleachers.

Others spotted his Porsche tearing down Mulholland Drive at midnight, racing for street cred.

Without me constantly pulling him back from the ledge, his downfall had hit fast-forward.

He plunged into his toxic romance faster and harder than he ever did in my previous life.

Whenever we crossed paths in the hallway, Declan treated me like invisible air.

I didn't care at all.

While he was actively destroying his life, I poured every ounce of my energy into Mock Trial prep and my AP classes.

Then, on a random Tuesday, I walked toward the girls' restroom on the second floor.

I reached for the metal door handle, but a familiar voice made me freeze.

"How is he in bed, though?" a girl asked, followed by a loud giggle.

I recognized Kenzie's voice instantly.

"He's alright, I guess. He has that quarterback stamina."

I stood perfectly still in the empty hallway, listening through the crack in the door.

"But honestly? I'm just waiting it out," Kenzie continued casually.

"Once he transfers the title of that Porsche to me next month, I'm finding an excuse to dump his pathetic ass."

Her friend erupted into loud, obnoxious laughter.

Declan's grand rebellion, his epic fight against high society, was worth exactly one used Porsche.

"Wait, doesn't he have the state football final coming up?" the friend asked.

"Yeah, if he wins MVP, he automatically gets that full-ride scholarship to USC."

The friend’s tone turned malicious.

"You better wreck his mindset before that game, Kenz."

"If he gets that scholarship and goes off to college, he'll definitely dump you first."

My chest tightened as a suffocating memory flashed through my mind.

In my past life, I had overheard this exact conversation.

I had panicked.

I ran home, begged our stepdad, and we forcefully locked Declan in his room for three days to keep him away from Kenzie.

We saved his MVP title.

We saved his USC scholarship and his golden future.

And he repaid me by letting me die on the freezing concrete of a gang-controlled alleyway.

The coldness returned to my veins, freezing out the last drop of sympathy I had left.

I pushed the bathroom door open.

The loud gossip instantly died.

Kenzie was leaning over the sink, applying bright red lip gloss.

She froze, her eyes snapping to my reflection in the mirror.

She knew I had heard everything.

I walked calmly to the empty sink next to hers.

I turned on the faucet, washed my hands with soap, and rinsed them slowly.

Kenzie clutched her lip gloss, holding her breath.

I pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and began to dry my hands.

"Sloane, wait," she stammered. "You... you heard all that? Look, I didn't mean it like that, I was just—"

"No," I cut her off.

I met her terrified eyes in the mirror. "I didn't hear a thing."

I tossed the crumpled paper towel into the trash can and walked out of the bathroom.