Chapter 1
Ryan Lancaster thought I was too boring.
To him, I was nothing more than a glass of plain, lukewarm water.
So, he fell for the transfer student, a girl with the fiery, intoxicating kick of straight whiskey.
Chasing a thrill, he took her street racing one night, only to lose control and slam into a guardrail.
In the split second before the explosion, he shielded her and screamed at me, "Get back. You're blocking Emily's air."
The force of the blast threw me backward, and I died right there on the spot.
When I opened my eyes again, I was standing at our engagement party.
Watching him prepare to walk out on me all over again, I smiled.
*****
As the host called out our names, Ryan's phone rang.
That custom VIP ringtone, sharp and piercing in the silent hall.
He glanced at the screen, his brows furrowing instantly.
He turned to leave.
I grabbed his sleeve and whispered, "Ryan, this is our engagement party. Your grandpa is watching."
Ryan jerked his arm away, clearly annoyed.
He did it with rough force.
I nearly lost my balance, twisting my ankle in my high heels. It hurt like hell.
His eyes flashed with frustration as he snapped in a low voice, "Grace, can't you think about someone else for once?
"Emily's getting hit on at the bar. She's so innocent. She'll be scared out of her mind."
In my previous life, because of those words, I was humbled to the point of feeling worthless.
I begged him not to leave, crying and promising I'd behave and wait for him to come back.
But he still left.
He left me there, all alone, forced to face the mocking stares of everyone, turning me into the laughingstock of the entire social scene.
Later, I found out the truth.
No one was even bothering Emily. She posted a blurry shot of her drink with the caption, [So scared.]
Ryan lost his mind and rushed over there.
I could still feel the searing pain in my throat from when I died.
I released his sleeve and straightened my dress.
The last bit of warmth in my heart turned cold for good.
"Ryan, if you walk out that door today, we're finished," I said.
Ryan stopped in his tracks.
He turned back.
He looked at me like I'd told the biggest joke he'd ever heard.
A mocking smirk tugged at his lips.
Ryan sneered, "Grace, pulling this hot-and-cold game? Isn't that a little pathetic?
"You? Threaten me? Please."
He was absolutely certain I couldn't live without him.
He believed that I, his goody two-shoes childhood friend, would wilt without him.
It was too bad for him.
He was dead wrong.
I stared at the face that once made my heart flutter, and all I saw was something utterly repulsive.
I didn't even want to spare him another glance.
I turned around, picked up the microphone, and spoke into it.
My voice echoed through the speakers, cold and steady, reaching every corner of the hotel room.
I said, "Family, friends, I'm sorry.
"This engagement party is canceled.
"From now on, Ryan and I will live our own lives. We're strangers to each other now."
The whole room was buzzing with shock and whispers.
Ryan whipped around, staring at me in disbelief.
He never expected that I, the girl who always followed him around, would actually break free and walk away for real.
Ryan snapped, "Grace, are you crazy? Have you completely lost it? Do you even realize what you're saying?
"If you're so tough, then don't come crying to me later."
Regret? I watched him storm off, furious and flustered.
It felt like the air was finally fresh again.
I smiled and spoke into the microphone, enunciating every word clearly, "Ryan, don't let the door hit you on the way out."
The next day, I went to school.
When I got to my desk, it was crammed full of garbage.
There was a dead rat, bloody gauze, and notes scrawled with nasty insults.
[Stop pretending you're so pure.]
[You're not even as good as one of Emily's fingers.]
I didn't even have to guess who did this.
It was Ryan's gang of troublemakers.
And of course, Emily's crowd, the ones who looked all gentle and innocent on the outside, but were actually plotting every move behind the scenes.
Stone-faced, I hauled my desk out into the hallway.
With one hard kick, I knocked it over, sending all the trash spilling everywhere.
It made a huge racket.
The whole floor heard the commotion.
Ryan walked out from the crowd, hands in his pockets.
Emily followed behind him, her eyes red from crying.
Emily was wearing a faded school uniform, timidly clutching the corner of his shirt.
"Ryan, please don't blame Grace. She's just angry..." Emily said softly.
Ryan snorted coldly.
He walked up to me, looking down with that condescending glare.
He said, "Are you done making a scene?
"So, you made a scene in front of the whole family yesterday, huh? Grace, I'm giving you a chance to save face.
"Just apologize to Emily, and I'll let bygones be bygones about yesterday."
That was Ryan.
He was always putting himself on a pedestal.
He was always making it seem like he was doing me a favor.
In my previous life, to avoid drama, I forced myself to apologize to Emily, even though it made me sick to my stomach.
And what did I get in return?
Their torment only escalated.
I looked Ryan straight in the eye, refusing to back down.
I said, my voice steady and cold, "Apologize?
"Is she even worth it?"
Ryan's expression turned stormy in a flash.
He spat, "Grace, don't get cocky.
"Emily was so freaked out last night she ended up with a fever, and you don't even care? All you can do is act like some spoiled princess?"
I let out a laugh, sharp and cold.
I laughed so hard that I nearly cried.
I asked, "A fever?"
I pulled out my phone and pulled up a photo.
It was a screenshot from Emily's private account, grabbed late last night after I paid someone in her circle to get it for me.
In the picture, Emily was raising a glass of champagne, partying with a bunch of guys at a club.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glazed. She looked totally wasted.
There was not a hint of sickness anywhere.
I shoved my phone right in Ryan's face.
I said, "This is your so-called fever?
"She looks pretty fired up for someone who's supposed to be sick, Mr. Lancaster."
Ryan froze.
He shot a look at Emily.
Emily went white as a sheet, scrambling to explain, "No... no, Ryan, that's... that's an old photo. I only posted it on my private account to reminisce about some friends..."
"Is that so?" I flicked my finger across the screen, tapping the digital clock glowing in the photo's background. "2:45 a.m. Last night.
"Emily, need me to remind you what song you were belting out at that hour?"
People started whispering all around.
"Wow, she's really good at pretending."
"Is she messing with Ryan?"
Ryan's face turned pale and livid with rage.
He stared at the photo, frozen, unable to tear his eyes away.
It was as if he'd been slapped in front of everyone.
But he didn't even turn on Emily.
Instead, he lashed out and swatted my phone right out of my hand.
The screen shattered.
He said, "Grace. So, you were spying on my crew?
"You seriously make me sick."
He grabbed Emily's hand, shoved past me, and stormed off.
"Let's go. Just ignore this psycho," he said, dragging Emily away.
Emily glanced back at me, her eyes full of smug satisfaction.
The corners of her mouth curled into a triumphant smirk.
Sick? I glanced down at the wreckage of my phone.
Ryan, the real disgust was still to come.