Second chance at his heart

--- The first thing I noticed was the smell. Old textbooks, dust, and the faint, artificial scent of lemon from the school custodian’s cleaning spray. I sat bolt upright in bed, sheets tangled around my legs, heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape. The room was wrong. Too small. Too bright. The walls were covered in posters I hadn’t looked at in years—Lana Del Rey, a faded K-drama cast, a motivational quote about “chasing your dreams” that I’d written in my first week of senior year and forgotten about the second. My phone said 6:17 AM. Tuesday. September 12th. September 12th, 2021. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was supposed to be in a hospital bed on the 18th floor of St. Mary’s, machines beeping around me, my father’s hand cold in mine. I was supposed to be 25 years old, with three years of a marketing degree I’d never used, and a chest full of regret so heavy I couldn’t breathe. I was supposed to be dead. “Miss Chen? You okay?” Eva’s voice. I turned. My best friend stood in the doorway of our dorm room, hair in a messy bun, holding two cups of coffee like she always did. She looked 19. She looked alive. She looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “Lila?” She stepped closer, lowering one cup. “You’re pale. Bad dream again?” I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. How do you tell someone you died? How do you tell them you watched your own life end and spent the last three years of it replaying every moment you didn’t tell Kai Mercer how much he mattered? “Yeah,” I said finally. My voice was hoarse, like I hadn’t used it in years. Because I hadn’t. “Bad dream.” Eva set the coffee on my desk and sat on the edge of my bed. “You’ve been having a lot of those lately. It’s the stress. Graduation’s in three months, and Dad’s already asking when you’re starting at Chen Group.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “You don’t have to have it all figured out today. Breathe, Lila.” Breathe. Right. I could breathe now. My lungs didn’t hurt. There was no tube down my throat, no antiseptic in the air, no regret sitting like a stone in my stomach. I had a second chance. I took the coffee. It burned my tongue, and I almost laughed. I’d forgotten what it felt like to feel something that small and real. “Thanks,” I said. Eva grinned. “Anytime. Now get up. First period is Literature, and Mr. Wale hates it when we’re late. Especially you. You’re his favorite.” I nodded and forced myself out of bed. My legs were steady. My hands didn’t shake. The me from before would have spent the whole morning staring at the ceiling, wondering if it was all a mistake, if I’d wake up again in that hospital room with no time left. Not this time. I showered fast, pulled on my uniform without thinking about it. The blazer was too big on my shoulders. I’d grown in the last three years, and now my body was snapping back to 19 like it remembered how. As I braided my hair, I caught my reflection in the mirror. Same face. Softer, though. Less tired. My eyes weren’t dull yet. I hadn’t learned to look away when I saw him coming down the hall. Kai Mercer. The name alone made my chest tighten. In my first life, I’d spent four years orbiting him like a moon with no gravity. He was the sun—bright, reckless, impossible to ignore. He was the boy who skipped class to race cars in the underground lot, who got suspended twice and still had the principal laughing with him at graduation. He was the boy who, when I finally worked up the courage to tell him I liked him, looked at me like I’d told him the cafeteria was serving expired milk. “Boring,” he’d said. “You’re too boring for me, Lila.” I didn’t cry. Not then. I cried later, in my dorm room, with Eva holding me while I pretended it didn’t hurt. I’d spent the next three years trying to be less boring. I’d taken on more projects at work, learned to speak in meetings, dated a guy for six months because he reminded me that someone could choose me. None of it mattered. I still died with his name on my mind. This time, I wasn’t going to chase him. This time, I was going to live for me. --- The hallway was chaos. Seniors shouting, juniors running late, the smell of cheap hairspray and ambition mixing in the air. I kept my head down, walking fast. “Chen!” I didn’t stop. “Chen, wait up!” Eva caught my arm, pulling me to a stop. “You’re avoiding people again. You know hiding won’t make the project disappear.” “What project?” I asked, though I already knew. “The senior business proposal. Groups of four, mixed majors. Mrs. Adebayo posted the list last night. Guess who you’re with?” I didn’t need to guess. I could feel it before she said it. “Lila Chen, David Okafor, Amara Yusuf… and Kai Mercer.” There it was. My stomach dropped, but not in the old, desperate way. It was more like standing on the edge of a cliff and remembering I’d fallen before. I knew the pain. I knew the landing. Eva watched my face carefully. “You okay?” “I’m fine,” I said. And I meant it. “It’s just a project, Eva. It doesn’t mean anything.” She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. “Okay. But if he pulls any of his usual stunts, you tell me. I’ll hit him with my laptop.” I almost smiled. “Deal.” Literature was a blur. Mr. Wale talked about symbolism in _Things Fall Apart_, and I took notes like my life depended on it. It did, in a way. Staying busy meant I didn’t have time to think about the fact that Kai was sitting three rows behind me, his chair tilted back, probably not listening at all. I could feel him without looking. It was stupid. It was dangerous. When the bell rang, I packed up fast and left before he could say anything. Bad idea. “Running away, Chen?” His voice hit me in the hallway, low and amused. I stopped. Turned. Kai Mercer looked exactly like I remembered and nothing like it at all. Same messy black hair, same sharp jawline, same dark eyes that looked like they’d seen something they weren’t supposed to. He was taller than me, broad-shouldered in the school blazer he wore like a suggestion rather than a rule. His tie was loose, one button undone. He looked good. He always looked good. That was part of the problem. “Morning, Mercer,” I said, keeping my voice flat. “Try not to fail Literature again. Mr. Wale’s running out of patience.” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s new.” “What’s new?” “You. Talking to me first. Usually you pretend I don’t exist.” I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. “Maybe I’ve grown up.” Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe interest. “Guess we’ll see. We’ve got that project together, right? You planning to do all the work again?” I met his gaze. “No. I’m planning to do my part. If you don’t do yours, I’ll make sure Mrs. Adebayo knows.” He stared at me for a second, then laughed. Not the loud, show-off laugh he used for his friends. It was quieter. Realer. “Damn. You really have changed.” Before I could answer, the hall monitor blew her whistle. We both moved. I walked away first. --- Lunch was worse. The cafeteria was loud, hot, and full of people who cared too much about who sat with who. Eva and I grabbed a table in the corner, the safe zone. “You’re quiet,” she said, unwrapping her sandwich. “Did you see him?” “Unfortunately.” “Did he say anything stupid?” “He said I’ve changed.” Eva paused, fork halfway to her mouth. “Well… have you?” I looked down at my hands. They were steady. “Yes,” I said. “I have.” She studied me, then nodded slowly. “Good. Just don’t let him make you un-change.” I didn’t answer. Across the room, Kai walked in with his usual group—Tolu, the basketball captain, and two guys I didn’t bother remembering. He didn’t look at me. He was laughing at something Tolu said, easy and careless, like he didn’t have a single worry in the world. In my first life, I’d watched him like that every day. Wondering what it felt like to be that free. This time, I looked away first. --- The project meeting was after school. Room 204. Mrs. A classroom. I got there early, set up my laptop, and went over the brief again. Our task: create a mock business plan for a sustainable startup. Budget, marketing, projections. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Dave and Ama arrived next. Both were friendly, quiet, focused on grades. We exchanged pleasantries and got to work. Kai was ten minutes late. Of course he was. He walked in with his hands in his pockets, hair messier than usual, like he’d run a hand through it a dozen times. He didn’t apologize. He just dropped into the chair next to me and glanced at the screen. “You’re serious about this, huh?” he said quietly. “Yeah,” I said without looking up. “Some of us need scholarships.” He flinched. Just barely. “Harsh,” he muttered. I finally looked at him. “Truth usually is.” For a moment, neither of us said anything. Dave and Ama kept talking about market research, oblivious. Kai leaned back, studying me. “You know, in middle school you used to sit behind me in Math and pass me notes with the answers.” I blinked. “I did not.” “You did. I still have one. Said ‘Kai, if you fail again, Mrs.peci will make you stay after school, and then you’ll miss practice.’” I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “That was Eva. I never—” “You never what? Admit you cared?” I closed my laptop with a snap. “We’re here to work, Mercer. Not to dig up old stuff.” He nodded slowly. “Right. Work.” We worked. It was awkward at first. He made a joke about my color-coded spreadsheet, I told him to shut up and calculate the profit margin. He actually did it. He was good at it, too. Faster than I expected. By the time we left at 6 PM, we had the first draft done. “Not bad,” Kai said as we walked out together. The others had left earlier. “Don’t get used to it,” I said. He laughed. “You’re fun when you’re not trying to be invisible.” I stopped walking. “I’m not trying to be invisible.” “Could’ve fooled me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at me. “You used to watch me. All the time. In class, in the hall. You’d look away the second I noticed.” My heart stuttered. “That was a long time ago,” I said. “Was it?” I didn’t answer. He stepped closer, just a little. Close enough that I could smell his cologne—something woodsy and expensive, even in high school. “Well, you don’t have to hide now. I’m not going to bite.” I met his eyes. “Good. Because I don’t like being bitten.” He grinned. “Noted.” _End of Chapter 1