Her Confidence Cost Me Everything

I rushed to the office and filled out the guaranteed admission application my homeroom teacher, Mia Ingram, had left for me.

She smiled with approval. "You finally came around. Something as big as college, it's always better to have a backup plan."

The moment I brought the application back to the classroom, Bree Callister stood in front of my desk, wiping away tears. "Someone like me will never be good enough to qualify for guaranteed admission.

"Ivy, can I just look at the application in your hands? Just one peek."

The second those words left her mouth, every boy in the class fixed me with a vicious stare.

A violent shudder ran through my body.

Bree's number one lapdog, Connor Briggs, gave me a cold smirk before turning to her. "It's just an application form. Forget looking at it. If you want to fill one out yourself, we'll get you one."

He walked over to me and held out his hand. "Ivy, you're smart enough to get into a good school with your eyes closed. Stop hogging the admission spot."

My hands would not stop trembling around the form.

In my last life, Connor was the one who brought people to lock me away. I fought back with everything I had, screaming at him. "Connor, this is illegal!"

He sneered right back. "You don't know shit! I'm helping Bree become a confident person. I'm saving her!

"You're the one who insists on taking the exam just to one‑up her and crush the little bit of confidence she's finally built. How is that any different from murder?

"Even if I kill you today, it's self‑defense!"

Those brainless thugs took his claim of self‑defense as permission to stop holding back. They beat me to death on the day of the exam.

The phantom pain of every bone in my body shattering came flooding back.

With Connor bearing down on me now, my grip on the form tightened as my hands began to shake. All I managed was a bitter smile. "This is my application. If you want one, you can ask the teacher for another one."

"Are you freaking kidding me, Ivy?

"Don't think I don't know these forms are limited. You went behind everyone's back and snagged this spot without asking the class!"

Connor slammed his palm on the desk and roared at me.

Before I could react, he snatched the application out of my hands, looking completely self‑righteous. "You said it yourself at the class meeting. Classmates should help each other out.

"As class president, you should set an example instead of using your position to take the only guaranteed admission spot without consulting anyone.

"Since this belongs to the whole class, we should put it to a vote. Everyone who agrees to give the application to Bree, raise your hand."

The moment he finished, every boy in the class raised both hands.

I was long past being surprised by this kind of mindless devotion from the boys in our class. Bree was beautiful, and half the boys in school chased after her. No matter who confessed their feelings, she always lowered her head and said the same thing.

"I come from a poor family. I don't deserve to be liked by you. I'm sorry. I can't be with you."

That fragile, teary‑eyed insecurity of a delicate little wallflower set off every protective instinct the boys had. They made it their personal mission to make Bree feel like she was worthy.

Their methods, however, were anything but reasonable.