Chapter 6
James sat slumped over his desk in first hour, History, barely hearing the dull drone of chatter around him. It all felt far away. Like he was submerged underwater, listening to the world through thick ice.
He stared blankly at his desk, jaw tight, knuckles white where his hands clenched together in his lap.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
He had hope. He really thought this time would be different. Why else would he be given a second chance? Why else would the universe wind the clock back, place them all here again, at the start?
If it was just going to happen the same way again, what was the point?
What was the point of living it all over?
A flash of Ashton's face hit him like a punch to the gut. The way he had stood there, silent, expression unreadable.
He couldn't believe he'd actually said it. That he'd threatened Ashton Everett, the rich, gym-obsessed jerk with murder if he so much as thought about dating Melanie. What the hell had he been thinking?
He'd never seen Ashton fight, but the rumors were loud enough: he'd transferred here after beating someone to a pulp at his last school. Was that what was about to happen to him? Was Ashton going to kill him before he ever got the chance?
And worse-what if Ashton confessed to her again?
James's stomach twisted.
Then everything will happen exactly like before.
She'll fall for him.
And she'll die.
His breath hitched. He blinked rapidly, trying to force down the sting in his eyes. He couldn't let that happen again. But what was he supposed to do?
He couldn't tell her. Not the truth. She'd never believe him.
"Hey."
James blinked, head jerking up at the sound of the familiar voice. Cole slid into the seat beside him, setting his bag down and eyeing him closely.
"Are you okay? I heard what happened," he said, lowering his voice.
James didn't answer right away. His gaze drifted toward the window, toward the soft light spilling through the glass. His throat was tight. His lips eventually parted, but the words felt heavy.
"She said I was not-" He stopped, breath faltering. "She looked at me like I was trash. Like I was nothing."
Silence hung thick between them.
Cole reached out slowly, hand brushing James's sleeve. "James..."
"She looked at my shoes. My shoes, Cole. Like that was all I was worth." James said hollowly, voice cracking. The pain in his chest burned sharp.
Cole's face darkened. "She doesn't deserve you," he muttered. "You should've never wasted your time on her. You know what, she'll probably end up dating some jerk and then she'll regret-"
"Cole, stop," James cut in, his voice low, strained. "It's fine. I'm fine. She's right, anyway."
Cole blinked. "What?"
"I don't deserve her," James said quietly, eyes fixed on the scratched surface of his desk. "She's... too good for me."
"No," Cole said sharply. "You're too good for her. And one day she's going to realize that-"
"Stop it, Cole!" James snapped, louder than he meant to. His voice cracked with fear. "I don't want her to regret anything. I don't want it to happen. I'll never let that happen!"
Cole's brows pulled together. "What are you talking about?"
James's chest rose and fell with shaky breaths. He looked down, voice barely above a whisper. "It's okay if she rejected me. That doesn't matter anymore. But I still have to protect her."
Cole stared at him, confusion etched across his face.
"I didn't just come back to watch it happen all over again," James murmured. "I came back to stop it."
"What...?" Cole asked, searching James's face. "What do you mean?"
Before James could answer, the classroom door creaked open.
Mr. Hart walked in with a loud sigh, books tucked under one arm. "Seats, everyone."
Chairs scraped against the floor. James turned his face away. But Cole was still staring at him. "Nothing. I'm fine," he mumbled before slipping into silence.
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