Chapter 2

After the assembly, Brittany found me at my locker. Her posse, a giggling gaggle of wannabes, flanked her.

"Emily! You're coming tonight, right?" Her smile was wide, but her eyes were like chips of ice.

In my first life, her faked tears after her "overdose" had been convincing. She'd gone on Instagram Live, sniffling. "Emily... she tried to stop people from helping me. I almost died."

The media ate it up. The school, desperate to avoid a scandal, unofficially supported the narrative.

Now, I saw the calculation in her perfect features. She needed me there, probably as a scapegoat if anything went wrong, or just to rub her social superiority in my face.

"I can't," I said, my voice flat. I kept my gaze steady. "Big test tomorrow."

One of her friends, Tiffany, sneered. "Oh, still Miss Perfect Student? Worried a little fun will mess up your precious scores?"

"Yeah, Emily," Brittany chimed in, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "You need to relax. It's just one night. Jake's gonna be there." She winked, a sly, knowing look.

The implication was clear: Jake, who used to be mine, was now hers to command.

I remembered the first time Jake had disappointed me. After that disastrous sophomore placement test where stress gave me an IBS flare-up. I'd bombed it, missed getting into the advanced track. He'd found me crying in the library.

"Hey," he'd said softly, wiping a tear. "It's okay. One bad test. We'll study together. We'll go to the same college."

Sweet words. Empty promises. Brittany transferred in junior year, and he'd dropped me like a hot rock.

I shrugged, pulling my textbook out. "Have fun."

My lack of a fight seemed to throw them off. They expected an argument, a lecture.

Brittany's smile tightened. "You know, it's rude to say no. I'm inviting everyone."

"It's my choice," I said, closing my locker.

I started to walk away.

"Hey!"

A hand grabbed my arm. Jake. His grip was strong, football player strong.

"You're not just going to walk off, Emily." His eyes, once warm when they looked at me, were cold, suspicious.

"Why not?" I asked, yanking my arm free.

Brittany glided to his side, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his bicep. "She's probably going to snitch, Jakey. Tell Principal Thompson. Or worse, call everyone's parents."

He scowled. "You wouldn't, would you, Em?" The old nickname felt like acid.

"Snitch about what? A party?" I raised an eyebrow. "I just want to go home and study."

This was new. In the first life, he'd just mocked me and left. Now, he was actively blocking me. Brittany's influence was stronger, earlier.

"You have to come," Jake insisted, his jaw set. "Brittany wants everyone there. It's a team thing. School spirit."

"I'm not on the team," I said. "And my spirit is focused on the SATs."

I tried to step around him. He moved, blocking me again.

This wasn't about the party anymore. This was about control. Brittany's control over him, and through him, over me.