Chapter 2: Reborn at His Side

I met Julian in high school—we were assigned as desk mates: a boy desperate to disappear, a girl desperate to live.

It was the kind of small-town high school where everyone knew everyone’s business, and new kids stuck out like neon. The first time I saw him, he was hunched over his sketchbook, hair falling into his eyes, like he wished he could melt into the floor.

I’ll never forget that cold, scarred boy, calmly dragging a knife across his arm, blood welling up instantly.

The sight froze me. My stomach twisted, hands clammy. For a second, I thought I was seeing things—but the blood was real, bright and shocking against his pale skin.

I was terrified. I grabbed tissues to stop the bleeding, my voice shaking with worry.

"What are you doing? Are you hurting yourself?"

He smiled faintly, unconcerned. "No, I just want to paint with my blood. The color seems brighter that way."

There was a strange calm in his voice, like he was talking about mixing paint, not pain. I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept pressing tissues to his arm, desperate to make it stop.

"Doesn’t it hurt?" I asked.

He paused, then looked at me. "I thought you’d call me crazy."

He smiled again, sharp enough to cut, his lashes lowered, trying but failing to hide the sadness in his flat tone.

"Everyone says I’m crazy. No one wants to hang out with me."

Those words hung between us, raw and honest. I wanted to say something—anything—to make it better.

"Are you?"

"No. I’m normal."

"Okay."

I carefully dabbed medicine on his wounds. Suddenly, he grabbed my arm, his cold cheek pressing against it, his voice soft, almost whining.

"It didn’t hurt before. Now it kind of does. Autumn, you’re really nice."

A hot tear slid down onto my arm, burning.

He said, because of me, he didn’t feel so alone. Because of me, the world didn’t seem so bad. Because of me, he wanted to try living. Because of me, dumb Julian wanted to come back to the world for the first time.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Julian still left.

If only I had another chance…

And then, I woke up. Reborn at eighteen.

I remember the feeling—like being dunked in cold water, gasping for air, realizing I had one more shot. The world felt brighter, sharper, full of possibilities I thought I’d lost forever. I promised myself: I won’t let him slip away again.

Julian wasn’t yet the genius painter whose work sold for millions—just a transfer student in high school.

He looked lost, clutching his sketchpad like a lifeline, his gaze fixed somewhere far away. The girls in class were already whispering, their eyes wide. I knew how this story went, but I was determined to change the ending.

"Damn, the new guy is so hot! And he’s an art student—our class’s girls are lucky."

"So what if he’s good-looking?" That was Travis Miller, our class bully, chiming in. "I heard he’s on the spectrum." He tapped his forehead, sneering, "Disabled, get it?"

The way he said it made my blood boil. Travis always needed a target, and now he had a new one.

"What? Autistic?"

"Good-looking guys are common, but this is my first time seeing a hot guy with a mental illness."

"Are you girls still into him? Ha!"

The classroom burst into laughter, loud and mean.

The sound grated on my nerves. I glanced at Julian—he didn’t flinch, just stared at his desk, shoulders tense. I wanted to throw something at Travis, just to wipe that smug grin off his face.

They weren’t wrong. Julian was a genius painter on the spectrum. Because he was withdrawn and struggled socially, he’d never had friends.

In my previous life, after he transferred, his looks and grades made him the center of attention among the girls, sparking jealousy from Travis’s crew. They bullied him constantly. I was timid, afraid to get dragged in, so I only dared to help him after he was hurt, secretly slipping him ointment and bandages.

But this time, I chose to fight back.

I hurled a book straight at Travis Miller’s head. He turned, face twisted in pain, yelling, "Who the hell did that?"

"I did, genius." I stood up, mouth firing. "Travis, what’s wrong with you? Picking on someone first thing in the morning. What, did you just get out of a psych ward yourself? Is that why you know so much?"

"You—!"

He was stunned. He never expected the class’s usual doormat—me—to talk back. He sneered, "The world’s really changed. Even an orphan dares to play hero now. You’ve got guts!"

He started toward me, fists clenched.

"Attention, everyone, teacher’s coming!" someone yelled from the hall.

Travis had to stop halfway, glaring daggers at me, flipping me off. "Just wait, I’ll deal with you after class."

I was terrified, clutching my chest to calm down. Then I accidentally locked eyes with Julian, who’d just walked in behind the teacher.

Uh-oh. He definitely heard everything I said.

I volunteered to be Julian’s desk mate. Our homeroom teacher, Ms. Foster, called me to her office, her voice gentle but firm.

"Julian’s situation is special, Autumn. As his desk mate, please help him however you can."

She looked at me with kind eyes, the sort that made you feel safe. I nodded, determined to do better this time. I wouldn’t let fear hold me back.

In the past, Julian was bullied because no one dared speak up, or tell the teachers. I had no background, no adults to back me up, but suddenly I realized Ms. Foster could be my backup. She really cared about her students. Travis might be tough, but he’s no match for a teacher. I refused to believe otherwise.

No matter what, this time, I swore to protect Julian and never let anyone hurt him.

Back in the classroom, I spotted Julian by the window in his blue-and-white varsity jacket, focused on his drawing. His face was like something out of a graphic novel—moody, delicate, his dark eyes pure as stars. The chaos outside seemed to have nothing to do with him. His world was just art.

This was the Julian who was still alive. There was still time.

So this time, to save Julian, I got shameless about hovering near him, trying to win him over, hoping we could get closer.

But…

Monday, he flatly rejected my offer to walk to and from school together.

Tuesday, he threw away the breakfast I brought—his favorite, strawberry milk and an egg sandwich.

…

Friday morning, he forgot his math textbook and got caught by the teacher.

I quietly tugged his sleeve, offering him my book. He just shot me a cold look and chose to stand outside as punishment rather than accept my help.

I sighed in frustration. He was really tough to deal with—more difficult than in my last life. Stupid Julian. Dumb Julian. I was so mad. How could he ever like me, treating me like this? I started doubting myself.

As soon as Julian arrived, the whole school went wild. Even girls from other classes came to give him love letters. After class, he was always surrounded.

I watched Travis in the back row, chewing on a toothpick, glaring at Julian with hatred. I knew he was planning something. Last time, Julian got beat up in an alley, nearly had his hand ruined for painting—all because of Travis.

I was anxious, but Julian just kept drawing his damn dividing line on the desk.

Yesterday, he’d told me, "Hey, could you stop talking? You talk too much."

Me?! I’m trying to save your life here! And he still won’t use my name? We’ve been desk mates for almost a month and he still doesn’t know it?

Fine! But since he left me all that money in the last life, I’ll let it go.

So I tried again, blinking and grinning, shamelessly inching closer.

"Come on, Julian, don’t bother with the dividing line. Can we be friends?"

"Hey, Julian, let’s walk home together after school. I’m worried someone might try to mess with you. Don’t worry, with me here, no one will dare."

I thumped my chest confidently. "Trust me, I’ve got your back!"

Julian finally paused, glancing up at me, giving me a once-over with a cool expression. "And get beaten up like you?"

"Hey!"

I’d just gotten my face bashed in by Travis—my cheek was still swollen. Did he have to rub it in? I covered my face, trying to play it off. "Well, I was just going easy on them. Not worth my time."

I started rambling again.

"Hey, Julian!"