This Time, I'm the Fool

"Naomi! Oh my god—are you okay?!"

That familiar voice, paired with Maisie Brighten's hypocritical face, appeared right in front of me. In that instant, I realized I had been reborn—back to the very first day of freshman orientation.

In my previous life, it had been on this exact day that Maisie had "accidentally" spilled hot coffee all over me. She had then "kindly" offered to check whether my phone had gotten wet, only to "carelessly" send one of my private photos into the class group chat and immediately delete it—too fast for me to do anything. Just like that, on the very first day of school, I had become the class joke for everyone's to gossip about.

I jolted upright and lunged for the phone on the desk, but Maisie was quicker. She snatched it away, unlocked it with practiced ease, and spoke in a rush, "I'll help you check if water got inside!"

The very next second, she covered her mouth and cried out in fake panic, her face full of helplessness. "Oh no—what do we do?! Naomi, I accidentally sent one of your photos!"

I tore the phone back from her like I'd gone mad. Just like last time, the photo was already online, impossible to undo.

'What's this?'

'First-day perks?'

'Wrong chat?'

'Why would you randomly post a sexy photo of yourself?'

'Friendly reminder: You don't have to show people what you look like without clothes on.'

'Wow… People like this really exist.'

I froze, staring at the stream of mockery flooding the class chat, before sinking weakly into my chair. Across from me, a flicker of satisfaction flashed through Maisie's eyes, though she quickly masked it with an apologetic expression. "I'm really sorry, Naomi. I was just trying to help—I didn't think it would happen so fast…"

At the same time, my other roommate, Chloe Turner, leaned over the edge of the top bunk and glanced down. "This is so big deal really. You're not really going to be that petty, are you, Naomi?"

"Yeah, Naomi. You won't hold it against me, right?" Maisie blinked at me, wide-eyed and innocent.

I looked at the two of them playing off each other—and suddenly smiled. "How wonderful!"

Both of them stiffened, suspicion flashing across their faces. "What? Why?"

I lifted the phone, staring at them with an utterly guileless expression, my tone light and carefree. "Because this is Chloe's phone. I was worried for a second that you two might blame each other."

Yes. The phone I'd grabbed in my panic hadn't been mine at all—it was Chloe's, plugged in on the desk to charge, the exact same model as mine. Which meant the photo Maisie had sent had belonged to Chloe.

In an instant, both of them went pale, their eyes wide with shock. Chloe let out a shrill scream and scrambled down from the bunk in a panic.

I turned to Maisie then, looking genuinely confused. "What's wrong? Why do you two look so grim? Oh, I'm so dumb. I never understand anything…"

Maisie was beyond livid, and Chloe stood there beside her, her expression dark and rigid.

In my previous life, I had been branded a scheming woman, a two-faced bitch, and even a slut. Those rumors hadn't come solely from Maisie's so-called careless slander—Chloe had played no small part in fanning the flames.

She would take Maisie's obviously flawed, brainless excuses and privately "confront" me, then secretly record my frantic attempts to defend myself, maliciously edit the footage, and spread it around to cement my reputation as someone who'd easily get mad and lash out at others.

It had also been Chloe who anonymously posted the screenshot of Maisie's "hookup" typo on the campus forum, pairing it with a suggesting emoji and the words, 'You never really know a person,' turning the entire school against me.

Even after I had drunk the water that Maisie had contaminated with toxic bacteria and died a miserable death, Chloe had gone around telling people I'd killed myself because I'd missed an important exam.