Chapter 2: Ghosts in the Arcade

That boy was Mason Holt.

The man who would one day become my husband.

The man who’d destroyed my life.

“That’s my cousin dancing! But the tall one next to him is even better!” Madison grabbed my hand and pulled me over. “Let’s go see!”

I yanked my hand free.

“Rachel, what’s wrong?” she asked, staring at my pale face.

“My stomach hurts. I’m going to the bathroom,” I said, and ran off.

I barely made it to the restroom before the tears started. My hands shook as I locked myself in a stall. The world spun, and I pressed my forehead to the cool metal door, forcing myself to breathe.

I’d promised myself I’d never let Mason hurt me again. I couldn’t let history repeat itself.

Only after locking myself in a stall did I feel safe. I leaned against the door, gasping for breath. The memories I’d tried to suppress flooded back.

My mind replayed every moment—his fake kindness, the way he wormed his way into my life, the lies I’d believed. I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms, vowing that this time would be different.

I remembered the first time I met Mason in my past life—it was at the arcade. He and Madison’s cousin were dancing. Afterwards, her cousin invited us to dinner. I barely spoke during the meal. Honestly, those trade school boys with their dyed hair kind of freaked me out. I’d heard they liked to fight. I felt like I didn’t belong in their world.

I remembered the greasy diner, the smell of burnt coffee, the way the boys joked too loudly.

I’d kept my eyes on my plate, feeling out of place and anxious to leave.

After dinner, I never thought I’d see them again. But a week later, in the alley behind school, I was cornered by some punks. Just as I was about to cry, Mason appeared. He took on five guys by himself and sent them running. He remembered me as his friend’s cousin’s classmate. I remembered him too, because he was really handsome—tall, pale, sharp-eyed, straight-nosed, like a comic book character come to life.

That night, he walked me home. As he left, a book fell out of his bag. I picked it up—it was a technical manual on car repair, filled with notes. “Did you write all this?” I asked. He nodded. “I want to get good at something.”

His voice was quiet, almost shy. I’d been drawn in by his ambition, his apparent vulnerability. It was all a lie, of course, but I didn’t know that then.

I naturally liked hardworking students and changed my mind about vocational school kids. Later, I ran into him at the library a few times and we got to know each other. He shyly asked if I could help him with English, and I agreed. He treated me so well—saving for two months to buy me a birthday present, eating nothing but mac and cheese. When he found out I didn’t like dyed hair, he immediately dyed it black. Worried I’d run into danger again, he secretly walked me to and from school every day, never talking to me in public to protect my reputation, just watching from a distance until I was safely inside.

Looking back, it was all calculated—a performance designed to win me over. I’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

When I was hospitalized after falling down the stairs, he waited outside for two days and nights, sneaking in to see me for a few minutes when Grandma Carol went out for breakfast. Maybe it was because I’d never felt loved before, but his care got to me.

His devotion seemed real, but now I knew better.

He’d studied me, learned my weaknesses, and played the part I needed him to play.

I was desperate for love, and he gave me just enough to keep me coming back.

When he confessed to me, I agreed. We started dating in secret. Mason promised to work hard and never give up on his studies, hoping to get into college someday.

I’d been so sure he was different—a diamond in the rough, just waiting for a chance. I wanted to believe in him, in us.

It took years for me to realize it was all an act.

Mason was just a thug—he had no interest in studying. The technical book, the notes, the library sessions, the talk of going to college—all lies to win my favor. He knew I liked ambitious people and pretended to be one, claiming poverty had kept him from studying. I believed him.

The betrayal cut deeper than any wound.

I’d built my world around a fantasy, and when it shattered, I was left with nothing.

Back then, I was too naive to know someone could be so manipulative.

I was drawn in by his act, step by step, until I ruined my own life.

I shuddered, snapping out of my memories. Clenching my fists, I swore I’d never make the same mistake again.

Mason was scum—I would never get involved with him again!

I splashed cold water on my face, staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror.

I was stronger now. I wouldn’t let him—or anyone else—control my story.

Leaving the bathroom, I ran out of the mall and took a rideshare home. On the way, I texted Madison, saying I wasn’t feeling well and needed to rest.

I watched the city lights blur past the window, my mind racing.

I’d dodged a bullet today, but I knew Mason—and Madison—wouldn’t give up so easily.

Monday night, as usual, I walked home with Madison. Halfway there, she suddenly shouted happily, “Cousin!”

A bad feeling crept over me. Sure enough, I looked up and saw a group of boys up ahead—her cousin, Mason, and a few other troublemakers.

The streetlights cast long shadows across the sidewalk. I kept my gaze fixed on the cracks in the pavement, heart pounding. I could feel Mason’s eyes on me, even without looking.

“Madison? What a coincidence! Let’s go eat,” her cousin said.

“Great!” Madison turned to me. “Rachel, come with us. Don’t worry, my cousin’s loaded—we’ll make him treat us.”

I kept my head down, avoiding everyone’s eyes, but I could feel Mason’s gaze. “I have homework. I’ll pass.” I yanked my hand free from Madison and ran off, ignoring her calls.

I didn’t stop running until I reached the safety of my own street. I swore to myself: I would never let Mason get close again.

Three nights later, after school, Madison called me. “Rachel, can you bring me a latte?” She’d come to my class during the last period to say she had to go home early and I didn’t need to wait for her. “Sure,” I said, heading to the alley behind school, the only place nearby with a coffee shop.

I hesitated at the entrance, memories of the past pressing down on me. But I forced myself to keep moving. I wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

But when I got to the alley entrance, I froze. In my past life, I’d been mugged by punks here, and Mason had rescued me. That time, too, I’d gone to buy coffee for Madison. Determined to avoid crossing paths with Mason, I turned and left.

I felt the weight of fate pressing in, but I pushed back.

I was in control now, not them.

A few punks passed by. They were the ones who’d mugged me in my past life. But with people around, they just gave me a look and walked on. I hurried away.

My hands shook as I clutched my backpack.

I could almost hear Mason’s voice in my ear, but I kept moving, refusing to look back.

At the intersection, I saw Mason up ahead. He was so striking that two girls nervously approached him, asking for his Snapchat. “No,” he replied coldly.

I walked past him without looking. “Wait,” he called out.

His arm blocked my way.

Mason grinned, “Haven’t we met before?”

“No, you’ve got the wrong person,” I insisted.

I’d skipped the arcade meet-up and kept my head down the other night, so he shouldn’t remember me. I tried to leave, but he blocked me again, standing right in front of me with a warm smile. “You have a bad memory! I’m Madison’s cousin’s friend. We met just the other day, remember—”

“Sorry, I don’t remember.” I took off running.

I never wanted anything to do with Mason again!

My lungs burned as I sprinted down the block. I didn’t stop until I reached the safety of my own street. I promised myself I’d never let him catch me off guard again.

Because Madison’s cousin was friends with Mason, I stopped hanging out with her outside of school, just in case. I never went to her house to do homework anymore, even though her study environment was so much better than mine. I was afraid her cousin might bring Mason over. Even if the chance was small, I couldn’t risk it.

It hurt to pull away, but I knew I had to protect myself.

Some risks just weren’t worth taking.

On weekends, I stopped going out with Madison or studying at the library. Her cousin lived nearby, and their trade school wasn’t far—too easy to run into them. For weeks, I turned down all her invitations, whether to her place or out somewhere. Even with Tyler yelling at his video games at home, my parents playing poker with friends in the living room, and no real room of my own—just my little balcony—I preferred it to running into Mason.

I learned to tune out the noise, focusing on my goals.

My world shrank to the size of my desk, but at least it was safe.

All I wanted was to take the SATs—no surprises before then.

I counted down the days, marking each one off on my calendar.

Every X was a small victory.

My repeated refusals made Madison unhappy. “If you don’t come to my eighteenth birthday this Sunday, we’re done!” she pouted at the neighborhood gate.

I figured her parents would be home for her birthday, and they were strict—they’d never let those troublemakers in. It was silly to think I’d run into Mason at her place. Maybe I was just being paranoid. “Okay, don’t be mad. I’ll be there,” I promised.

She finally smiled and left.

On Sunday, I left home with her gift in hand. Our buildings were just a few apart, so I could walk there in minutes. I was checking the gift as I walked when suddenly a big yellow dog jumped out of the bushes and lunged at me. I froze, dropping the gift. Just as the dog was about to bite my leg, someone ran over from behind. Seeing that familiar face, my eyes went wide with fear.

Somehow, Mason was even scarier than the mad dog.

Even though I’d been frozen a second ago, the moment I saw him reaching out to push me away, my body moved—at the last second, I dodged the dog’s attack.

Mason missed and fell. The dog sped past and, missing its target, turned and charged at me again. “Run!” I grabbed Mason’s arm and darted into a nearby building.

I’d grown up here—every household was familiar.

The first floor belonged to Mrs. Brown, who always left her door open. I rushed in with Mason and slammed the door. The dog was left outside.

“Rachel? What’s going on?” Mrs. Brown asked, startled.

“Mrs. Brown, there’s a mad dog outside chasing us. It’s right at the door,” I said, my voice shaking.

She hurried to call security. “You two stay here. Don’t be scared.”

Mrs. Brown’s living room smelled like lemon-scented cleaner and old magazines. I stood awkwardly by the door, clutching my bag, my heart still racing.

Mason hovered by the window, peeking out like nothing had happened.

Mason insisted on peeking outside. “It’s gone,” he said, smiling at me. “What a coincidence, running into you again.”

This time, I couldn’t pretend not to know him. “You’re Madison’s cousin’s friend, right? What are you doing in our neighborhood?”

“Oh, Madison’s birthday. Her cousin came to give her a gift, and I’m waiting for him downstairs—we’re going to shoot pool.”

“Oh,” I nodded.

His answer was too smooth, too rehearsed. I watched him closely, trying to read his expression.

He just grinned, like this was all perfectly normal.

Just then, two security guards arrived, asking about the dog. Mrs. Brown said they should search the whole complex just in case. The guards promised to find the dog and keep everyone safe.

I thanked them, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. The whole encounter left me rattled, but I forced myself to act calm.

After they left, Mason said goodbye. “I’ll go now.”

“Okay,” I replied.

Watching him hurry off, my smile faded.

My gut told me something was off. The way the dog ignored Mason, the way he slipped away as soon as security showed up—it all felt staged. I replayed the scene in my mind, piecing together the clues.

He was trying to set me up, just like before.

This was no accident. The dog hadn’t attacked Mason, even though he was closer. It had to recognize him—he’d set up a hero-saves-the-damsel scene. When Mrs. Brown mentioned security, he’d quickly opened the door, probably to signal the dog to leave. Now, with security searching, he was rushing to find and hide the dog.

In the sweltering summer, I felt cold all over. I remembered the alley mugging in my past life—also orchestrated by him. That time, he’d succeeded, won my trust, and drawn me in.

A chill ran down my spine. I realized I’d narrowly escaped another trap.

I promised myself I wouldn’t let my guard down again.

I was so glad I’d reacted quickly today and avoided being rescued by him.

If he’d saved me, or gotten hurt by the dog, I’d owe him—and be dragged into his mess again, just like last time.

At Madison’s house, she greeted me happily. “What happened? Your hair’s a mess.”

“Just a little accident,” I smiled, not saying more. A quick glance showed only Madison, her parents, and some neighbor kids—her cousin had already left.

The living room was decorated with pink streamers and balloons. Madison’s mom handed me a slice of cake, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the normalcy.

After blowing out the candles, I handed her my gift. “Happy birthday.”

“What is it?” She eagerly unwrapped it, her eyes going wide with surprise. She hugged me. “Thank you, Rachel! But this is too valuable—I can’t accept it.”

“It’s not worth much,” I said, pushing it back to her and pulling out a small box. “Here’s a bracelet—you said you liked it when we were out shopping.”

She squealed in delight, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist.

For a second, I almost forgot everything that had happened. Almost.

Madison clutched the gifts, eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you, Rachel. You really are my best friend—you know me best.”

The first gift was a commemorative medal from school—custom-made, gold-plated, with the school emblem and “Silver Heights High, First Place, Semester 20XX” engraved. Only the top student each semester got one. It wasn’t worth much, but it was rare and beautifully designed, making it precious. Every semester, only five were awarded—one each for the top student in each grade and track. Mine was for first place in the first semester of freshman year. When I got it, Madison had loved it and begged me to give it to her, but I’d refused. Now, after everything I’d been through, I wasn’t so attached to things. Plus, I was confident I could win another one.

I watched her turn the medal over in her hands, her face a mix of awe and envy. I wondered if she understood what it really meant to me—or if she just wanted it because it was something she couldn’t have.

That night, I kept thinking about what happened during the day—something felt off, but with all my tangled memories from two lives, I couldn’t figure it out. I decided to let it go and focus on class the next day.

As long as I kept my distance from Mason, I’d be safe.

I lay awake, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling.

I promised myself I’d stay vigilant—no more close calls.

The next morning, walking to school with Madison, she asked me a math problem. I remembered it was in my workbook and reached into my bag—only to realize I’d forgotten it. I must have been distracted last night. “You go ahead—I’ll run home and get it,” I said, and dashed back.

My mind was spinning with equations and worries. I tried to shake off the uneasy feeling as I jogged up the stairs to my building.