Perfect Catch Novels & Stories

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

On the day I was diagnosed with uremia, my husband asked me to donate a kidney to his one true love. I turned him down, claiming I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t expect him, my own husband, who was a doctor, to drag me to trial. The charge? Ingratitude. If found guilty, I would be executed on the spot, my kidney forcibly harvested, my soul condemned for eternity. But if the charges were dismissed, my husband would face immediate execution. His love would fall into ruin, plagued by illness and poverty. Everyone pressured me to confess. After all, when I nearly died in a car crash years ago, it was her blood transfusion that had pulled me back from the brink of death. But what they didn’t know was… I had been reborn. In my past life, I died never knowing my husband and his lover had orchestrated the car crash that nearly killed me. Now that I had returned, I would tear off their masks and expose their malice for all to see.

I am having a heart attack when Scott Lakin locks me inside the car. It's because my pain is frightening his childhood sweetheart. In response to my desperate pleas for help, he merely utters coldly, "I'll let you out when you apologize." I go into shock and have to be rushed to the hospital. I call Scott a dozen times, but he just blocks me. Finally, after I get discharged, I see him carefully feeding his childhood sweetheart chicken soup. "Have some food, darling. What if the baby in your belly is hungry?" After that, I return to my hometown without saying a word and stay there for half a month. After blocking me everywhere except the music streaming platform, Scott suddenly starts frantically searching for me. "Jennie, why didn't you add me back on Facebook this time?"

In my past life, I used the little one in my womb to force Richard Reynold into marrying me. On the day of our wedding, his beloved, Elise Brie, leaped into the sea, taking her own life. She left behind a letter saying: "True love is no match for power and money. It is my loss." Richard, after learning the news of her death, was unaffected. In fact, he went through our wedding with a smile on his face. However, on the day of our son's third birthday, Richard took us to a diving trip. While 300-feet underwater, he ripped off the tube of our oxygen tanks, drowning me and my son. After my death, my consciousness remained as a spirit. I watched on as he placed my corpse in front of Elise's grave as an offering. He said, "Ellie, I've finally avenged you. I hope this will bring you some peace in your afterlife." Soon after, my vision darkened. When I opened my eyes once more, I realized I was back at the night when I was trying to use our son to force Richard into marriage…

Quentin Quandt—Shane Fuchner's uncle—killed himself. After he died, someone found a drawer stuffed with unsent love letters. Every single one had my name on it. So when life hit rewind and Mom asked if I wanted to marry Shane, my childhood friend, I said no. I picked Quentin. Here's the thing—I got reborn. Last time, I chose Shane. Huge mistake. He was hardly ever home after we got married. And when I started bleeding from a miscarriage, he ditched me because Ceryn Schuck—his first love—texted, [The power's out and I'm scared.] He didn't even hesitate. I died that night. So did the baby. And Shane? He didn't cry. Just whined that my death ruined his vacation plans with her. Then I woke up—right back at the moment Mom asked who I wanted to marry...

When the college admission notice arrived, I suddenly developed a high fever and was bedridden. My sister encountered a kidnapping on her way to help me collect the notice, and her life was uncertain. My parents hated me deeply. After tearing up my admission notice, they forced me to give up my studies and work in a factory. Later, I experienced a kidnapping as well. After narrowly escaping, I hid in an abandoned factory and sent them a message for help. My dad called me and shouted at me without restraint, “Lena, are you even human? How could you play such a joke on us on Jessica's memorial day!” “Do you have any idea how much your mom and I wished it had been you who died back then?” In my last moments before death, their insults echoed in my ears. I was tortured and killed, turned into a monster, and my body was thrown into a stinking ditch for three full days. Even my father, the most experienced forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When my sister returned home with the guy she eloped with years ago, my dad had just restored my appearance through technology. They knelt before my decaying corpse and cried until they fainted.

My husband was a senior military officer and a hardcore military fanatic. When I went into labor and my life was at risk, I begged him to sign the consent form for an emergency C-section. Instead, he looked at me coldly and asked, “What’s the maximum cruising speed of a Boeing 747? Answer correctly, and I’ll sign.” Later, my body tore from the prolonged labor, and our son suffocated to death. He said calmly, as if reciting a fact, “One thousand one hundred and twenty-seven kilometers per hour. Remember that?” At that moment, I looked at his indifferent expression and realized that I no longer loved him. With that, I left behind the divorce papers and disappeared from his life. “Felix, the military-illiterate wife you were ashamed of will never come back.”

When my best friend, Dulcie Quinn, and I went to Westhaven on vacation, my boyfriend, Shane Lewis, got me a lower berth in a soft-sleeper. Before I boarded, he pointed at the dark circles under his eyes. “I spent three days trying to snag you a lower berth so you’d be comfortable on the trip. “So no matter what, don’t give it up to anyone else. Not even Dulcie.” He looked so serious that I nodded and told him I understood. Sure enough, as soon as we boarded, Dulcie, who had the berth above mine, asked if we could switch. Remembering what Shane had told me, I shook my head and said no. I explained it to her too. I never expected something to go wrong that very night. When she climbed down to use the bathroom, she missed the handrail and fell. Clutching her stomach, she screamed, “My baby! My baby’s gone!” I did not even have time to ask when she had gotten pregnant. I rushed her off the train and took her to the nearest hospital. Late that night, Dulcie’s husband, Wallace Lambert, arrived at the hospital with Shane. By then, she had already undergone a D&C. The moment she saw me, she pointed at me and started cursing me out. “Do you have any idea how much I sacrificed for that baby?” Shane blamed me too. “I thought you were just joking when you said you were jealous of Dulcie. I never imagined you’d be cruel enough to do something like this!” I didn’t even get the chance to say a word before Wallace slammed me against the wall and strangled me to death. After I died, Dulcie ended up with Shane. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to three minutes before boarding the train.

After my hundredth disastrous blind date, my best friend and I made a bold decision: we would have children without husbands. She chose sperm from a brilliant PhD donor. I chose a donor with an eight-nation mixed heritage. Later, the PhD donor from Kingsford University was diagnosed with low sperm motility and decided he wanted to marry my friend, Melissa Shaw. She agreed. Whenever she saw me going to my prenatal checkups alone, Melissa would wrap her arm around her husband and mock me. "You're destined to be alone," she sneered. "You can't even find a man to marry you. My husband just launched a major national research project. His future is limitless." What she did not know was that the father of my child was the Prince of Dubaria. He took me back to his country and made me his princess. The jewels I wore were so heavy they practically weighed me down. However, after she saw the yacht I posted on social media, Melissa suddenly called me in tears. "I don't know what happened," she sobbed. "My husband's project was suddenly suspended. We can barely afford baby formula for our child." She said she wanted to make up and even asked if I would be her child’s godmother. However, the moment I stepped through her door, she raised a chainsaw and hacked me to death. "Why do you get to live a better life than me?" she screamed. "Just because you chose better sperm?!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my best friend and I first decided to have children without husbands.

I, Gianna Johnston, am born into a family of prodigies. My dad, Henry Johnston, is a computer science professor from Hafford University. My mom, Naomi Liddell, is a medical professor at Starvard University. And my brother, George Johnston, is an international math olympiad champion. Meanwhile, I'm barely passing my math classes at school. George gets so mad at me that he immediately writes down three full sets of math exam questions and exclaims, "You're so dumb that you're nothing but an embarrassment to Mom and Dad and me! "Don't you even think about leaving the house and embarrassing us again without completing all these math questions!" Mom then forces a few pills straight down my throat. Those pills are one of her inventions, called "smart pills". However, she doesn't care that I'm choking so hard on them that my eyes roll to the back of my head. "Stop using excuses, saying that you're tired or sleepy. These pills will keep you up for 24 hours without sleep. That should be enough time for you to complete all those math problems!" Dad then turns on "Strict Mode" on the smart house system, Domi. He says to me, "And don't even think about escaping the house to look for help. I will lock the door and cut off every signal going in or coming out. If you don't finish your work in time, nobody will even care if you die here!" After that, the three of them leave me behind and head off for their vacation in Hervaii. While shutting the door behind them, however, the vase of flowers full of water suddenly crashed into Domi's control panel. I'm choking so hard on the pills that I feel asphyxiated. I keep banging my fists against the front door for help. However, Domi, who has now short-circuited, keeps repeating, "Please complete your math questions, Gianna. Study hard and be a good student. "Study hard and be a good student. "Study hard and be a good student." I grip the sheets of math problems in my hands in agony. Will Mom, Dad, and George finally be happy when they see that I'm giving up my life for this?