Chapter 1

Evelyn Lane died in an utterly ordinary summer.

There was no car crash, no terminal illness. After working overtime for a month straight, her heart suddenly gave out.

Right before her consciousness faded, what flashed through her mind was her classroom at eighteen. Sunlight filtered through the sycamore leaves, scattering flecks of light across the desks.

The boy in the white shirt passed by the hallway and glanced at her. Just one look, and she'd been happy for a whole week.

How stupid.

That was her last thought.

The Torn Love Letter.

"Evelyn, Evelyn," Someone said.

Someone gave her shoulder a few hard shoves. Evelyn's eyes snapped open to a mottled ceiling and an old fan creaking overhead. The air smelled like chalk dust and that stuffy summer heat unique to classrooms.

"What are you spacing out for? Mr. Carter looked at you just now." her deskmate, Sophie Williams, whispered as she quickly shoved a note into Evelyn's hand.

Evelyn lowered her head mechanically.

A heart-shaped letter lay pressed under her notebook. Pink stationery. She'd saved three days' worth of breakfast money to buy it.

It felt like someone had clenched her heart in a fist.

This was the third day of senior year. The dumbest love letter of her life still hadn't been delivered yet.

"Evelyn?" Sophie looked at her suspiciously.

Evelyn slowly raised her head and looked out the window. A few boys were walking past the hallway, laughing. The one in front was the tallest. His uniform sleeves were casually rolled up to his elbows, showing off a clean, toned forearm.

He had his face turned slightly as he listened to the person beside him talk, a lazy little smile tugging at his lips.

Lucas Sterling.

Eighteen-year-old Lucas.

Evelyn remembered this letter. That afternoon, while he was out playing basketball, she'd blush and slip it into his backpack. He wouldn't reject it or even look at it, just grunt out an "Mm." And she'd take that as permission, kicking off a two-year chase.

She copied notes for him until two in the morning.

She saved money from her living expenses to buy him limited-edition sneakers.

To get into the same college as him, she had even purposely gotten the last big question wrong on the exam.

But on graduation day, she finally worked up the nerve to ask him, "Lucas, were we ever actually a thing?"

The boy stood beneath the sycamore tree, his eyes as cold as winter wind.

"You're kind of a trouble," he said. "Can you stop bothering me?"

So from beginning to end, it had all been a one-woman show.

"Evelyn? You look awful." Sophie leaned closer, worried.

Evelyn lowered her head and looked at the pink letter in her hand. It had been folded with care, every corner lined up neatly.

She'd spent the whole night writing it, revising it, then revising it again, scared a single word might not be good enough.

So stupid.

Her fingers tightened. Rip.

"Evelyn." Sophie cried out.

The pink paper tore clean down the middle. Evelyn didn't stop. She tore it again, then again, into four pieces, eight pieces, then a pile of scraps before sweeping all of it into the drawer and shoving it as far back as it would go.

"We-Weren't you going to give it to—" Sophie asked.

"Not anymore." Evelyn cut her off and opened her math textbook. "Where are we with Mr. Carter's lesson?"

Sophie stared at her like she'd seen a monster.

Evelyn didn't explain. She opened her notebook of wrong answers and looked at the childish handwriting inside, silently doing the math in her head. There were still nine months until the college entrance exam.

In her previous life, she'd scored 582 and given up the final question just to get into the same mediocre college as someone else.

This time?

Her pen touched the page and wrote two words: KU.

Third period that afternoon was P.E.

Evelyn didn't fake a stomachache like she had in her previous life and hide in the classroom waiting for Lucas to come back.

She took her English book to the bleachers in the corner of the field and memorized vocabulary in the sun.

The basketball court wasn't far off, and every now and then she could hear the bounce of the ball and bursts of cheering.

"Evelyn." Someone called.

A basketball rolled to a stop by her feet.

Evelyn looked up. Lucas stood a few steps away. Sunlight poured in from behind him, outlining his lean teenage frame.

Sweat clung to his temple, and his eyes were bright, like he had just happened to pass by, or maybe like he'd come over on purpose.

"Can you grab that for me?" he said.

How had she reacted in her previous life? She'd hurriedly shut her book, jogged over to pick up the ball, and handed it to him with both hands, blushing all the way to her ears and barely able to get a word out.

Evelyn looked down at the ball, then back up at him.

"What, your hands broken?" She said.

Lucas froze.