The Curvy Comeback

ASHLEY'S POV The first thing I heard when I opened my eyes was laughter. For a moment, I thought I was still at the victory party, maybe drunk, maybe dreaming. But then my ears caught the smug tone I’d recognize anywhere. Kathy. “Oh my God, listen to this part, you guys!” she squealed. Her voice was filled with false sweetness as she sat dramatically on top of someone’s desk. She looked every bit the beautiful, popular social butterfly she always pretended to be. “‘Jack, I don’t know how I could ever repay you for saving me from the fire that night. You’re my hero, my everything. If you ever asked for my life, I would gladly give it to you.’” Her words were followed by a roar of laughter from our classmates. They adored her like she was a queen. In a way, she was. She practically ruled the school. My chest tightened. My vision cleared and my heart almost stopped. I wasn’t in the hospital. I wasn’t in the present. I was sitting in my old, cramped high school desk, in that too-familiar classroom. I noticed the screens of the dozens of phones already recording. And in Kathy’s hand was the letter. My letter. The one I had written in my previous life. The one I had poured my childish, desperate heart into, believing with all my soul that Jack was the one who had saved me from the fire. That ridiculous, humiliating letter had haunted me back then, becoming the joke of the entire school. And now here it was again. My fingers trembled on the desk. My ears burned as Kathy continued reading in a sing-song voice. She had an evil smile on her face. “‘Sometimes, I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re handsome, strong, and brave… and I’m just fat and ugly. But maybe, if I keep trying, if I keep giving you things, you’ll see how much I care. Please… don’t leave me, Jack.’” She said. The laughter got even louder. I could hear people’s comments. “Holy crap, she actually wrote that?” someone snorted from the back. “Begging him not to leave her? What a loser.” “She’s so desperate it’s disgusting.” “No wonder she’s always chasing after him like a dog.” Every cruel laugh cut me deeper than any knife ever would. And Jack—Jack just sat there at his desk near the window, leaning back casually like a prince on a throne, watching. Watching me burn. His lips curved into that smug half-smile, the one that used to make my heart race but now only filled me with bile. To everyone, Jack wasn’t just the charming vice-captain of the hockey team; he was also “the rich boy,” the one they all believed came from money. Even Kathy, despite being close to him, thought he was wealthy. They had no idea he was just the butler’s son, living off scraps of my family’s kindness. He wasn’t embarrassed. He wasn’t even pretending to stop Kathy. He was enjoying this. “She’s pathetic,” Kathy sighed dramatically. “Honestly, Jack, how do you deal with her drooling after you all the time?” Jack smirked, straightening in his seat. “What can I say? Some people just can’t help themselves. I guess I’m irresistible.” The class howled. My face burned. My fists clenched tight under the desk. My first instinct—the one from my old self—was to shrink back, to lower my head, to let them laugh until it passed. To accept it. To let Jack walk all over me again. But then, the memories crashed in. I saw my parents’ lifeless faces in the coffin. The sound of their car exploding echoed in my ears. I remembered David—Jack’s father, our trusted butler—smiling politely as he handed me tea, even as he whispered poison into my food to keep me weak. I remembered Kathy laughing at me in front of the entire school the day she kissed Jack behind the bleachers, and Jack sneering at me later: “You’re only good for serving people like us.” And finally… the cold hospital bed, the machines beeping slower and slower, the sadness when I realized it was all too late. Never again. I felt my body trembling, not from fear this time but from rage. Jack rose to his feet slowly, milking the attention, and walked toward me. He stopped at my desk. “Since you love me so much,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “why don’t you make yourself useful? Go buy me and Kathy lunch and coffee. Extra cream, two sugars.” That command was a blade through my chest. In an instant, I was dragged back to that day in my past life—when his affair with Kathy had been exposed, and instead of denying it, he threw a wad of cash at me and sneered, “You’re only good for errands anyway. Be grateful I let you do something.” The humiliation had stayed with me. I could still feel it in my bones. The classroom buzzed. Phones lifted higher, capturing every second. “Oh, this is gonna be good.” “She’s totally gonna do it.” “Can’t wait to see her grovel.” I could hear it all. I could feel their eager, mocking excitement. In my previous life, I would have stood immediately, wallet in hand, desperate to please him, to win the smallest crumb of approval. But not this time. I looked at Jack—really looked at him. The son of a servant, puffed up on lies, leeching off me, pretending to be something he wasn’t. Something in me snapped. I shot up from my seat so suddenly that Jack flinched back half a step. Before he could react, I snatched the love letter out of Kathy’s hand. Everyone gasped in shock. “What the—” Kathy began, but I didn’t let her finish. I tore the paper, shred after shred, until it was nothing but confetti between my fingers. Then I lifted my hand and flung it in Jack’s face. The class went silent. Everyone stared at us in shock. Jack’s mouth opened, stunned. Kathy’s eyes widened in disbelief. I finally spoke. My voice was colder than I ever thought it could be. “You arrogant parasite. You think you’re so important? You’re just a coward living under someone else’s roof, pretending to be a king. Don’t ever order me around again.” I spat at him. The class became filled with murmurs again. “Did she just…?” “No way, Ashley actually talked back?” “She’s never—she always obeys Jack.” Jack’s face turned red. I could see the anger in his eyes. He had never been humiliated like this—not by me. Especially not in front of his adoring audience. “You…” he hissed. “You’ll regret this. Don’t come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness later.” He turned, shoving past the desks, and stormed out of the classroom. The laughter had died. No one dared say a word. Kathy sat frozen. Her lips were parted as if she was unsure how to recover the moment she thought she had owned. I stood there with my fists clenched. The pieces of my old letter were scattered at my feet like the ashes of the girl I used to be. Slowly, I turned toward the window. The familiar oak tree swayed in the afternoon breeze, just as it had years ago. And when my eyes caught the reflection in the glass—my acne-filled round face, overweight body and flushed cheeks—I finally knew. This wasn’t a dream. I wasn’t at the victory party anymore. I had been reborn. I was reborn right back into the nightmare where everything began. And this time, I would burn them all before they ever touched me again.