Chapter 5: Rewrite the Story

A cold wind rattled the windows, making Emily’s blue dress flutter. The autumn air carried a chill, sending goosebumps up Alex’s—Emily’s—arms. A forgotten homecoming banner flapped outside, hinting at a coming change.

Alex looked down, eyes icy, and muttered, “If karma says you’re done at midnight, don’t try to cash in your ticket at eleven.” The threat was quiet, but the group below fell silent. There was a new steel in his gaze.

The least-bruised kid staggered up. “Emily, since it’s all out in the open, I’ll just say it: the president’s been sick of you for a while and can’t wait to kick you out. Hand over the underclassman’s championship trophy now, and maybe you’ll get to keep your spot!”

His voice cracked, but the message landed hard. In high school, social standing was everything. Getting dumped by the club president was a social death sentence.

When Emily heard the president’s name, her spirit trembled. Those words hit her like a punch.

If this were before, Emily would’ve been crushed—maybe handed over the trophy and apologized, tears streaking her cheeks.

She’d always sacrificed for others, thinking it was the right thing. If the president kicked her out, it would be the ultimate punishment. For a YA heroine, that’s the classic tragic arc.

But Alex wasn’t about to let that story play out.

“Hand over the championship trophy!”

“Hand over the championship trophy!”

The group below chanted, their voices echoing up the stairs, drawing more students and a few curious teachers. No one intervened, but everyone watched.

Alex scratched his ear, looking puzzled. “Weird, do I have a cold? Why do my ears feel blocked?”

He scrunched his nose, making a show of it. “I could swear I heard someone say they wanted to get on my banned list?”

As he spoke, a small black notebook appeared in Alex’s hand. It looked battered, thick with scribbles and sticky notes—a forbidden tome with real weight.

The club’s urban legend said it was like the Burn Book from Mean Girls, but way more terrifying. Cross Emily, and you’d be blacklisted from every club event—no parts, no lines, not even a backstage pass.

Three months ago, during a field trip, Emily had found an old trophy and the notebook in a locked supply closet. Anyone who had the trophy became a top competitor, no questions asked. As for the notebook, rumor was, if your name went in, you were banned from everything. Emily thought that was too harsh and never used it.

“Wha... what banned list?”

“You think we’re stupid? That notebook looks evil—but it can’t be a banned list, right?”

Dread crept into their voices, but they still doubted Emily would do anything.

But—

Alex didn’t waste time. He flipped open the notebook and started writing names.

A chill swept the hall. Black lines seemed to snake from the pages. Suddenly, the students below felt a weight on their chests—like their club privileges were slipping away.

A collective gasp rippled through the group. Some clutched their lanyards, feeling them grow heavier. The vibe in the hallway shifted—everyone sensed something had changed.

Down the hall, faint cries echoed. Their voices faded, replaced by a hush. No one had ever dared cross Emily Harper—not like this.

If you don’t put in the work, you end up on the banned list.

Everything happened so fast—even Emily’s spirit was stunned.

Alex looked toward the auditorium doors. “Let’s see—who else wants to get on my banned list?”

The question hung in the air, daring anyone to challenge her. Alex straightened Emily’s dress, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and walked on—ready to rewrite the story, American style. Because this time, she wasn’t playing by anyone else’s rules.