Chapter 4: Reborn in Eleventh Grade
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in high school.
My desk was stacked neatly with textbooks. Typical high school—acne and all. Some classmates still had a few pimples on their faces.
The blackboard still had notes from the last math class.
I looked down and pulled out my notebook. On the cover, it read:
Harper Lane — 11th Grade, Homeroom 3.
Given another chance at life, I chose to let go of Mason’s hand.
Sometimes, people don’t part because of a fight or because things can’t work out, but simply so both can live better lives.
Everyone was gossiping.
“Did you hear? The school’s golden boy said he’ll date whoever solves his math problem.”
Wasn’t our school’s golden boy Mason Hale?
I looked up. His desk was surrounded by a crowd of starstruck girls.
A moment later, groans rose from the crowd.
“Guys, who gets it? Mason’s problem isn’t even math—it’s all letters and symbols, some weird math-English hybrid. This is impossible!”
Mason looked past the crowd, his gaze settling on me.
“Harper, aren’t you going to give it a try?”
Mason talking to me—the most invisible girl in class—stirred up a wave of commotion.
“Harper Lane’s math is terrible. Doesn’t matter if she tries.”
“Yeah, even the class president can’t solve it. How could Harper Lane?”
“It’s a waste to even ask. She always fails math.”
“….”
Right, in eleventh grade I was a terrible student.
It wasn’t until senior year that I won the National Essay Contest and, together with math-competition gold medalist Mason Hale, got into the same university.
Turns out, even in high school, I wasn’t exactly Mason Hale material. Genius Mason, and then there was me. I guess I was just the punchline to his equation.
He was the moon in the sky; I was frost on the ground. This time, I didn’t dare dream.
Under his gaze, I smiled and shook my head.
We both tried in that relationship, but in the end, it just wasn’t meant to be. There was nothing we could do.
I would let go with a smile, promise not to cry, and let him be.
My seatmate, Natalie Brooks, nudged my elbow, her tone envious.
“Harper, when did you get so close to the school’s golden boy?”
“I’ve never seen you two talk before.”
I lowered my eyes.
“I’m not close to him.”
Back in high school, I really wasn’t close to Mason at all.
Jealous stares came from all directions, just like in my previous life. It felt like nothing had changed.
“Ugh, what a faker. She sure knows how to get a guy’s attention.”
“Who does she think she is? Gross.”
“Drama queen.”
“….”
But this time, I could choose not to start.













