Chapter 2: Back to the Scene of Betrayal

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she lifted her skirt during ROTC training. The sun was blazing, sweat already sticking to my skin, and the whistle of the instructor cut through the air. My heart pounded in my chest, trying to make sense of it all.

The moment I realized I'd gotten a second chance, Savannah was just like before—biting her lower lip, lifting her skirt again. I froze, watching her. Her eyes were nervous but tinged with excitement, darting around to see if anyone was watching. It was wild—like she was scared of getting caught but even more desperate to be seen. Was I really back here?

The air was thick with heat and anticipation. In no time, her skirt was up to her upper thighs, causing a stir among the boys. Not even the brutal ninety-degree heat could cool their hungry stares. They whispered among themselves as they ogled her:

"Dude, look—Savannah's legs are so pale!"

"You think she's doing this on purpose? Her underwear's about to show."

"Is that a thong? If I was her boyfriend, I'd be the luckiest guy alive!"

"Keep it down. If she hears us, she'll stop, and then we won't get a show."

Savannah was listening in, of course, soaking up every word. She blushed and pretended to be shy. Then she leaned over and patted me on the shoulder, acting all innocent:

"Harper, what should I do?"

"These guys are so gross, such pervs. I'm dying of embarrassment."

But even as she said it, you could see the excitement in her eyes a mile away. She was practically glowing, like a kid who’d just been handed the keys to a candy store.

That's right, Savannah has a thing for being watched. I noticed something was off about her as soon as the semester started. She'd always sway her skirt on the stairs and never bothered with shorts underneath. When she wore button-ups, she'd leave the middle buttons undone just to show off her curves.

With her figure—hourglass in all the right places—she was always catching the guys' eyes. And let’s be real: the guys took every chance they could to ogle her. I worried she’d get herself into trouble, so I tried to warn her, both openly and on the sly, more than once. She’d always act like she got it, but nothing ever changed. Seriously, what was I supposed to do?

That's when I realized something was definitely off with her.

In my last life, seeing Savannah flaunt herself so blatantly during ROTC, I couldn't help it—I tugged her skirt down and told her she should talk to someone. I even offered to go with her, warning her that if she kept this up, something bad was bound to happen.

But Savannah completely rejected my concern. She thought I was just jealous, trying to keep her from shining.

"I've got a killer body and a pretty face. What could possibly go wrong?"

"They like to look, I like being looked at—what's the harm? Why are you so uptight?"

"For all you know, they probably call me a goddess behind my back."

"Unlike you—you can't compete with me at anything, and it eats you up."

I pointed at myself, so angry I could've popped a vein. Was she for real?

Jealous? Jealous of her flashing herself everywhere? I was speechless. My cheeks burned with a mix of anger and disbelief—if this was what jealousy looked like, I wanted no part of it. As if.

After that day, I realized I should just respect other people's choices. I stopped interfering in Savannah's business and let her flaunt her so-called 'charms' wherever she pleased. I never imagined she'd hold a grudge against me. Typical.

Every time she made a scene off-campus, she'd sneak out wearing my clothes. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. Seriously?

Savannah got caught doing something indecent in the library, and someone posted the video on the confession page. People tore into her, saying she was trash and needed to be expelled.

Terrified, Savannah immediately pinned it all on me:

"The person who made that post about that 'tramp' is actually my friend."

"I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen..."

Since the video only showed her from behind, and the clothes she wore were found in my closet, I ended up being the scapegoat. Unreal.

The school ordered me to leave. On my way out, a group of creeps from town harassed me, saying if I had no shame, I might as well let them have their way. Cornered, I jumped from the rooftop. My heart was pounding, my skin crawling. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

Meanwhile, Savannah was celebrated for her supposed integrity and selflessness. The school gave her a medal, practically. She was admired by her classmates. I just couldn’t catch a break.