Reborn to Ruin: The Valedictorian's Revenge

"I heard marinated dictionaries are a local delicacy.

Choke this one down in thirty seconds, and I'll gladly serve you a second course!" "Boss, Harvard admissions on line one." "What?

A fullride and a living stipend?" I rolled my eyes. "Hard pass.

I already committed to NYU." "Wait… Finn is going to Harvard?" I snatched the phone. "Tell Harvard I'm overnighting myself via FedEx!" Chapter 1 When I realized I had been dragged back to the fall semester of my junior year of high school, my stomach dropped.

Are you kidding me? I had just gotten my acceptance letter to Harvard!

It was like beating a video game on the hardest difficulty, only to wake up and find the save file wiped clean. "Dammit." The curse slipped out before I could bite my tongue.

The girl next to me, sporting a high ponytail, shot me a look of pure disgust. I recognized her instantly. Vivienne. Pretty, top of the class, and loathed my guts.

She had once thrown a fit in the guidance counselor's office trying to get her seat moved away from mine. I checked the date on the whiteboard.

It was only day two of our forced proximity. "Look at Blair, swearing like a sailor. So badass," a voice sneered from behind me. Wyatt.

Stocky, squintyeyed, and painfully average, but somehow he knew everyone. We were definitely not friends. I looked up. Fallon and Morgan sat right in front of me.

Catching Wyatt's comment, they twisted in their seats, exchanging a look before giggling behind their hands. These two had made my high school life a living hell.

My heart hammered against my ribs. It was only then I noticed I was practically pinned to my chair.

Morgan had shoved my desk back to give herself more room, wedging her heavy textbook crate against the metal legs of my desk.

I raised my foot, planted it flat against my desk, and shoved it forward. Metal shrieked against the linoleum floor. Morgan's smile vanished.

She slammed her hands down on the wood. "Stop shoving! What the hell is your problem?

You think you're the only one cramped?" she snapped, her voice carrying across the silent study hall. "We all have the same amount of space." Heads snapped up.

Dozens of eyes locked onto me. "Why are you even arguing with her, Morgan?" Fallon smirked, flipping her hair. "She's two hundred pounds.

Are you two hundred pounds?" The entire room erupted into cruel laughter. I scanned their grinning faces. They looked like strangers.

In my past life, I had bled over my textbooks just to scrape by the state exams.

I had thrown away a mediocre college offer, took a brutal gap year, and finally clawed my way into Harvard. Leaving their toxic bubble had unlocked everything in me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I wasn't that fragile girl anymore. I stood up.

I walked straight up to the front of her desk, grabbed the handle of her crate, and yanked it out into the aisle. "If you don't want your trash, I'll throw it out for you." Dead silence. "Are you out of your mind?" Fallon gasped.

They never expected me to fight back. Morgan lunged, her nails digging into my wrist to wrestle the crate away.

Next to me, Vivienne slammed her textbook shut. "Fucking psychos," she muttered, jamming her binders into her backpack to escape to the library.

Chapter 2 The whole class watched, eating up the drama. Not a single person stepped in. I grabbed Morgan's crate. I hoisted it over the windowsill and let go.

We were on the third floor. It crashed into the bushes below. Morgan froze.

By the time she snapped out of it and started screaming, I was already dragging my desk forward, aligning it with Vivienne's. "Blair, are you out of your fucking mind?" Morgan slammed both hands on my desk.

She pointed a shaking finger at the window. "You threw it, you go fetch it like a dog." I didn't even look at her.

I flipped open my AP Calc workbook and picked up my pen, letting her bark at the wall. A shadow fell over my desk. Hayes.

His perfect brows pulled together, his sharp features twisting in pure disgust.

The guy I had secretly crushed on for three years looked at me like I was something he scraped off his shoe. "Go get Morgan's stuff, Blair," he said. "Do that, and I'll pretend this didn't happen." Hayes's dad was on the school board.

He was the golden boy—handsome, popular, top of our AP track, and the teachers' favorite. More importantly, he had known about my crush since freshman year.

I didn't find out until after graduation that he used to mock me in the locker room, calling me a delusional stalker who didn't know her place.

From day one, I had been a joke to them. A punchline to kill time. "Sure." I dropped my pen.

I looked dead into his eyes. "But if I go down there and get it, I'll rip every single page to shreds right in front of her face." He physically recoiled. "Wow, would you look at that." Wyatt stepped up, shaking his head. "The girl with a bottombarrel GPA is trying to step up to the Valedictorian.

I thought this school was about academic hierarchy?" Academic hierarchy? Please.

At a mediocre public school like this, Hayes's "top tier" grades barely got him into a midlevel state college in my past life. And Wyatt?

He spent his entire high school career at the bottom of the curve, pulling worse grades than I did. "If we're talking about grades, you should probably shut your mouth first, Wyatt," I said. "Midterms are this week.

That numberone spot Hayes has been chasing? He's not getting it this time." "You—" Hayes's jaw clenched. The golden boy mask slipped, revealing the raw nerve underneath.

The lunch bell rang. Nobody moved a muscle.

The show was just too good. "Blair, how could you say that?" Fallon stepped in, playing the sweet, concerned angel. "Hayes is definitely taking the top spot.

He always carries our class." "Yeah, who does she think she is? With her trash GPA? She's just talking big.

Hayes has it in the bag." "Why?" The sycophantic whispers fed Hayes's ego.

He let out a condescending scoff. "Why exactly won't I get first place?" "Oh, that's simple." I leaned back in my chair. "Because the next number one is me." The classroom exploded.

The laughter was louder, meaner, and completely unhinged. It was the funniest joke they had ever heard. I didn't bother defending myself.

I stood up, grabbed my lunch card, and walked out right through the sound of their mockery. Chapter 3 The cafeteria food was as cardboardlike as ever.

In my past life, the crushing stress made me bingeeat until my clothes barely fit. But now? My mind was crystal clear.

I grabbed a simple salad, finished it quickly, and headed back to the classroom. I cracked open my textbooks. When did AP homework get this easy?

Twenty minutes later, I slammed my notebook shut. Done. Up front, the AP Math TA was taking orders for the advanced competition prep books.

He made a huge show of announcing they were strictly for the toptier students. I shot my hand up. He looked right through me.

Next to me, Vivienne let out a dry scoff. "Put my name down," I said. Across the room, Hayes's features twisted in disgust.

The whispers sparked instantly. "Wow, playing the dedicated student now?" Morgan sneered. "Must be nice throwing away a hundred bucks.

You seriously think you're getting first place?" "Save the cash for a gym membership.

Might help you land a decent guy after graduation." Fallon twisted around, slapping on her best concernedangel face. "Blair, we're just looking out for you.

Those books are for AP scholars. We actually use them. For you, it's just wasting paper." God, she was the ultimate pickme.

A textbook mean girl wrapped in fake sweetness. "Just ignore her," Vivienne muttered, packing her bag. "Let her play pretend." The TA still didn't write my name.

I pushed my chair back, walked straight to the podium, snatched his pen, and wrote Blair in bold letters at the top of the list. Study hall rolled around.

Vivienne practically sprinted to the library, acting like my supposed insanity was contagious. I couldn't care less.

I breezed through some extra AP Calc problems and rested my head on my desk. First period after lunch was AP Lit.

I propped my head up behind a textbook, faking it while I dozed off.

The thrill of stealing a nap in the middle of class was too good to pass up. "We just finished analyzing the first half of the Macbeth soliloquy," Ms.

Davis announced. "I'm calling on someone to recite it. Let's see what stuck." "Ms. Davis, Blair's asleep." Some rat in the back row snitched. Ms.

Davis's sharp glare locked onto my desk. "Sleeping in class and she thinks she's taking the top spot?" Morgan yelled out. "Maybe in her dreams!" I blinked the sleep from my eyes.

Before I could speak, Fallon stood up. Ms. Davis's glare softened instantly. "I don't have it completely memorized, Ms. Davis," she said softly. She started reciting.

I leaned on my hand, listening. She skipped at least three lines, stuttered through the pacing, and butchered the pronunciation. The class broke into loud applause anyway.

Hayes stared at her like she hung the moon. They locked eyes, practically making out across the desks. God, what kind of lowbudget teen drama was this?

I wanted to gag. "Excellent effort, Fallon. You're a great example for the class," Ms. Davis praised. She pointed a rigid finger at the door. "As for you, Blair.

Get out in the hall." Chapter 4 Oh, fine. Not exactly my first rodeo when it came to getting kicked out for napping.

I faked a yawn, pushed myself out of my desk, and started for the door. "Zero shame," Morgan drawled, tracking me out of the corner of her eye, practically vibrating with glee.

Let's see who the real joke is. I stopped in the aisle and met Ms. Davis's glare headon. "If you sleep in my class, you stand in the hall! I don't care who you are.

If you don't want to learn, get out!" Ms. Davis's face flushed a deep, ugly red. "Don't waste my time!" I watched her lips move.

In my past life, starting senior year, this exact teacher had refused to answer a single question of mine.

She'd wave me off like a stray dog, not even bothering with bareminimum decency. I started reciting the soliloquy.

Slow enough for every syllable to land, but smooth, without a single micropause.

I hit every cadence, nailed the archaic vocabulary with razorsharp diction, and didn't drop a single line.

I put myself in Macbeth's shoes, letting the madness and the phantom dagger wash over me. Damn, Shakespeare really cooked with this one. Vivienne was the first to clap.

Real, unironic respect flickered in her eyes. Under her lead, the applause swelled, filling the room. But the validation? I couldn't care less. "I'm done.

Headed to the hallway now." I gave Ms. Davis a lazy twofinger salute, ignoring her buggedout eyes and slack jaw. "See ya." I could sleep standing up if I had to.

Some people functioned on seven hours. I needed ten, or my brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton. The problem was my dorm setup.

The school's mandated quiet hours were already a joke, but Morgan and Fallon—who had the bottom bunk—made it a living nightmare.

They spent all night whispering, aggressively crunching on chips, and flashing their phone flashlights to study. If I asked them to stop, they told me to buy earplugs.

Then they just escalated, icing me out and making my life hell. I used to be such a pushover. I leaned against the lockers, stifling a yawn. Never again.

Early summer heat baked the hallway. The fluorescent lights glared off the linoleum, and the air smelled like dry paper and floor wax. Echoes drifted from open classroom doors.

A Spanish listening comprehension tape. A chemistry teacher yelling about stoichiometry.

The collective scratching of a hundred pens on paper, mixing with the hum of the AC unit. ¿Dónde está la biblioteca? Find the midpoint O on line segment AB.

Calculate the net force of the object sliding down the incline. Mendelian genetics and Punnett squares. This was where I had bled and sweated for three years.

I knew every crack in the walls. I closed my eyes, letting the phantom weight of Shakespeare's words ground me.

I cracked my eyes open and stared at the Top 100 ranking board plastered on the brick wall. I didn't even bother looking for my name at the bottom.

I scanned the top. [Rank 1: Finn, from AP Track 1.] Hayes was sitting at Rank 3, trailing Finn by a massive fortypoint gap. Finn was a different breed. Untouchable.

From freshman year to graduation, he never dropped from that numberone spot. In my past life, he had secured a fullride to MIT before senior year even wrapped up.

Chapter 5 I didn't remember much about him. Tall, skinny, and notoriously antisocial. I did remember he could have gone to an Ivy, but ended up choosing a midtier state school.

Word was he did it strictly for the fullride scholarship. "Finn, please, just listen to me. Return your father's call? He really misses you." "No. I told you.

I don't know him, and I don't have a father." The voices echoed from the stairwell. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop; I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Finn!

Are you ignoring your mother now?" "We're done here. I'm going back to class." A tall, lean guy rounded the corner. His fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were stark white.

He kept his head down, but the rapid, uneven hitch in his chest gave it away. "Hey…" I raised a hand. His head snapped up.

His eyes locked onto me, feral and hyperdefensive, like a cornered animal. He had sharp, striking features—deepset eyes and pale skin.

He was easily over six feet, wearing the standard school uniform impeccably neat, down to his scuffed, faded sneakers. So this was the notoriously antisocial Finn.

I didn't say a word. I just dug a tissue pack out of my pocket and tossed it to him.

He caught it, freezing for a second as his eyes darted over my face, probably trying to place me.

I used the distraction to chuck a funsized Snickers bar at his chest. "I don't eat sweets," he muttered. He caught it anyway. "Sugar helps the mood," I said.

I ripped open a piece of chocolate for myself. Peeking back into the classroom, I locked eyes with Ms. Davis.

She was glaring at me through the door window, practically vibrating with rage. I didn't break eye contact as I bit into the chocolate, flashing her a sickeningly sweet smile.

Her face went purple. By the time I turned back around, Finn was gone. AP Track 1 was on the floor above us. I stared at the empty stairwell. Dude moves fast.

Someone had dumped a bucket of water on my mattress. I didn't even need to guess. I scanned the room.

The other girls in the dorm were chatting and laughing, treating me like dead air. "Who did this?

I'm only asking once." In my past life, they pulled this exact stunt after I asked them to keep the noise down. Back then, I swallowed it. Now? Not a chance. Nobody answered.

Morgan let out a loud, obnoxious snort at something Fallon said.

I grabbed my plastic washbasin, filled it to the brim from the bathroom sink, and walked straight over to Morgan's bunk. I tipped it over.

A gallon of freezing water soaked her mattress, her pillows, and the front of her shirt.

Six separate gasps echoed through the room. "Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Morgan shrieked. Water dripped from her chin. She flailed backward, her eyes wide.

Beneath the shock, I finally saw it: raw fear. "You're lucky the school board enforces a strict twoweek suspension for physical assault." I calmly tossed the empty basin onto her soaked bed. "Otherwise, it wouldn't just be water." She screamed, lunging at me like a rabid dog.

Fallon grabbed her arm, hauling her back. "Morgan, stop! You'll get suspended!

Don't let her bait you!" Chapter 6 "Listen to me, Morgan." I slid my shoes on. "You ignore me, I ignore you. We stay out of each other's way.

But if you want to start something, if you want to play dirty?

Trust me, I will play so much dirtier." "You crazy bitch!" Morgan cursed, but the loud insults couldn't hide the violent shaking of her legs. "Whether this ends tonight or escalates is entirely up to you." I stripped the soaked sheets off my mattress. "If you want a war, I'm down.

If you want to run crying to the RA, go ahead. I'll match you word for word.

It's no fun when I have to spell it out for you." I bundled the heavy, wet bedding into my arms and brushed past her shoulder. "If you don't care about your dignity, I'm sure as hell not going to save it for you." She stood there trembling.

The rest of the dorm was dead silent. The other girls exchanged wideeyed glances, their lips pressed tightly together. Just a bunch of paper tigers.

I dragged my blankets downstairs. The clotheslines outside the girls' dorm were packed, so I headed toward the tree line behind the boys' dorms to hang them up.

Lightsout was in less than ten minutes. The area was completely deserted. I looked down at the dark water stains on my blanket and actually started humming.

High school the second time around wasn't so bad. It kept me busy, and I got to put literal children in their place. I already knew the curriculum backward and forward.

I could tune in when I felt like it and slack off when I didn't. "Who did it?" "Huh?" I blinked at Finn, who had just materialized out of the shadows. "The blanket." Half his face was hidden in the dark, the dim streetlamp casting harsh angles across his jaw.

He looked even more striking than he had in the stairwell. "Who did it?" "Oh, this." Just another blip on the radar of my chaotic life. I gave him a dismissive smile.

He took two awkward steps back and tossed something at me. I fumbled and caught it.

A piece of chocolate. "I'm fine." I stared at him, genuinely confused by the stiff retreat. "Sugar helps the mood." "Dude, look at me.

Do I really need more sugar?" I wanted to punch his shoulder, but swallowed it down. He was trying to be nice. "I already had my quota this afternoon.

Latenight carbs are a nogo." "Ignore them." "I know.

They're not worth my time." "Yeah." He gave a stiff nod and turned to leave. "Finn." I watched his silhouette under the halo of the streetlamp.

The name slipped out before I could stop it. I barely remembered him from my past life. Back then, I was too blindly obsessed with garbage like Hayes to notice anyone else.

He paused. "You know me?" "You're literally the Valedictorian.

Of course I know you." "Not for long," he said. "Some girl whose name I don't even know announced she's taking the top spot at midterms." His voice was flat, sincere.

No sarcasm, no condescension. But seriously?

If the guy wanted my name, he could have just asked. "Blair," I said. "It's Blair." Chapter 7 "I know you," he said. "I've seen you around.

I remember you." Based on my past life, that impression definitely wasn't a good one.

To those people, I was just a delusional stalker trying to punch way above my weight class. "Ignore them," he added. "I heard you reciting that Shakespeare soliloquy today.

You sounded like a pro." After midterms wrapped up, I slept like the dead for an entire afternoon.

Nobody dared to run their mouths to my face anymore, but the whispers followed me everywhere. I tuned the static out.

I was just waiting for the official test scores to drop so I could slap them across the face with the reality check.

Instead, I woke up to my homeroom teacher hauling me into his office. Honestly, I had zero respect for the guy. Just looking at him made my skin crawl.

In my past life, when I finally broke down and told him about the bullying, hoping for a lifeline, he played the perfect gaslighter.

He completely enabled their abuse. "Did you cheat?" The second the door clicked shut, he launched the accusation. "Did you find any proof?" I flashed him a smile, completely bypassing a yes or no. "It's mathematically impossible." His brows pulled together so tight they nearly merged. "Tell me the truth!" "Impossible what?

That I took first place?" I leaned in slightly. "Take a wild guess." "Watch your attitude, Blair!

Multiple teachers have already reported your recent disciplinary issues!" "And what about your attitude?" I let the smile stretch a fraction wider. "Pulling your student in here to accuse her of academic fraud with zero evidence.

Honestly, you don't deserve a topranked student. Maybe you threw this same accusation at Hayes. That would explain why he can never clinch that numberone spot." "Blair!

What kind of garbage is coming out of your mouth?" He jabbed a finger at my face, his skin flushing an ugly, mottled red. "Zero respect for authority!

What are you even learning here? You get lucky on one exam and suddenly you're untouchable?" "You're a grown man, and you're spouting garbage without proof.

I'd say we're even." I shrugged. "I'm just applying what the school taught me. When faced with oppression, fight back.

Right?" The finger pointed at me started to shake. "Your ego is completely out of control! Get out. Go stand in front of the cafeteria!

You stand there all day until I give you permission to leave, do you hear me?!" "Sure, if it makes you feel better." I gave him a mock salute.

Right behind him, a digital spreadsheet glowed on his computer monitor. The numberone spot was highlighted in bright red. My name sat right at the top. Rank two was Finn.

I had beaten Finn by a massive forty points