Practice Makes Perfect Novels & Stories

Half an hour before I receive my degree certificate, Lionel Simmons, my boyfriend as well as the class president, tells me that my graduation will be getting delayed because I need to retake my exam on a major course. Meanwhile, Vivian Crosby, the campus belle who often ranks last in exams, is eligible to receive certifications on her courses. Lionel quickly shields Vivian from me while looking very unapologetic. "In this course, every class requires a certain quota when it comes to the retakes. Since Vivian has bad grades, there's no way she's passing the retake. That's why I submitted your name instead. "Unlike you, Vivian doesn't have excellent grades and a boyfriend who actually gives a damn about you. Even if your graduation gets delayed, it won't affect our future plans at all. Amelia, you should make some sacrifices for your fellow classmate's sake." After I strongly object against that decision, my classmates mock me for being petty and uncaring toward Vivian. Fine. Since they obviously lack empathy for me, I don't hesitate to call my uncle, who's a member of the university board as well as one of the invigilators of the final exams. "I got into the top three ranks of the final exams, and yet I can't graduate on time because I have to retake my final exam instead. Does this mean the remaining hundreds of students bribed you to not fail their exams instead? "I want everyone's graduations to get delayed alongside mine in half an hour, no matter what!"

The night I brought my boyfriend home to meet my parents, my dad insisted on playing cards with some relatives. When he came back, he collapsed to his knees in front of me, crying. Not only had he lost half a million dollars, but he had even gambled away my boyfriend to my cousin. He slapped himself and begged me for forgiveness. However, instead of yelling at him, I helped him to his feet. Then, I took out the savings I’d set aside for my future wedding and the deed to my house. “Let’s gamble one more time.”

The day before the SAT, the homecoming queen, Madison Freeman, lets out a shrill scream. "Everyone, you should skip out on the test! Luna AI is paying out five million dollars!" She pulls up the insurance agreement she has signed with Luna AI on her phone and shows it to everyone. As long as we miss the SAT, we will get five million dollars in compensation. "We're all Acorn League material. Skipping the SAT just means repeating senior year." "This is five million dollars we're talking about. We could work our butts off our whole lives and never earn that much." In my previous life, I had called 911 and spent forever explaining that Luna AI was just an AI and couldn't actually pay out. The cops literally dragged every single person into the exam hall. But because of it, Madison was ridiculed and cyberbullied so hard that she couldn't take it anymore and jumped off a building. The whole class then cornered me on the rooftop and poured acid all over me. "If it weren't for you, Madison would still be alive." They watched me thrash in agony and then kicked me off the edge. When I open my eyes again, I am right back at the moment Madison is hyping everyone up to blow off the SAT. I quietly watch every single one of them sign the agreement with Luna AI. I can't wait to see who they plan on collecting those five million dollars from.

My student, Renee Blue, comes from a poor family, and her mother suffers from uremia. Out of sympathy, I lent her some money. She promised to pay me back after graduation. However, on graduation day, she handed me an ultrasound and told me, "Your money comes from your husband anyway, right? I’m pregnant with your husband’s baby, so I won’t be paying you back. Also, you should step aside." I was in shock… because my husband had been dead for seven years. It wasn't until I saw Renee with my driver that I understood how she got pregnant.

When my parents got old, they needed someone to take care of them. Katerina—my younger sister—was off to Amiraka with her smug husband Chris. Meanwhile, I was crammed into a two-bedroom in Bellavaro with my husband Pavel, who drove a taxi. Mom had no retirement savings, so guess who she dumped herself on? Yep—me. Dad took the cash and ran straight to Katerina. Our place was tiny, but we still gave Mom the master bedroom. She hated it. Constant complaints, constant drama. According to her, life with me was pure misery. Every night, she'd hop on video call with Katerina, gushing about Amiraka like it was heaven, while throwing shade at me for not "taking care of her properly." Meanwhile, I was drowning—trying to hold it together for Mom, help my daughter prep for exams, support a husband with spine problems, and check in on aging in-laws. Mom didn't care. She wanted a plane ticket to Amiraka to party for Katerina's birthday. I snapped. We had a blowout fight, and she collapsed—brain hemorrhage. Even in her hospital bed, she stared me down, whining Katerina's name like a broken record. Then she spat out, "I should've never picked a useless daughter like you!" My chest cracked in half. I blacked out. When I woke up—I was ten years younger. Back to the day they decided who'd get stuck taking care of them. This time, Mom didn't wait. "I want Katerina to take care of me. It's my turn to enjoy life!"

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.

After I shared my five-million-dollar commission with my department colleagues, they drag me to a hotel and celebrate with me for three days straight. But when I walk past the bathroom, I overhear a conversation between two of my colleagues that stops me cold. "Have the results of the vote come out yet?" What vote? Confused, I check my phone and find that I've been removed from the Project Department's group chat. "Who else could it be? Our hero, Zane Carter, received eleven votes. It was unanimous, and the motion was passed." "Serves him right. I've never liked him anyway." I freeze. I can't believe that my colleagues would betray me after what I've done for them. After taking a moment to calm down, I immediately decide to resign. The next thing I know, I receive a call from the company chairman, Wilson Smith. "Have you made up your mind? Quitting now would breach your contract. As a result, your five-million-dollar commission would be revoked. "You're also a key technical staff member. If you leave, your entire department would most likely be dismissed. Once that happens, your colleagues will end up unemployed. Are you sure about this?" I lower my gaze and let out a cold laugh. "Absolutely."

On my way to work, I came across a livestream from an influencer who posted about her relationship, tagged at my company’s location. She was talking about her office romance with the CEO of a major corporation. But wasn’t the CEO of her company my husband? I clicked on her profile and saw that it was full of wedding-prep posts. The man never showed his face, but his build looked almost exactly like my husband’s. So I left a comment in the livestream: “I heard the CEO of Gibson Corporation has been married for a long time. So what does that make you...?” The streamer muted me, then instantly burst into tears. “The internet isn’t lawless. If you keep spreading rumors and calling me a mistress, I’m calling the police.” Her fans immediately swarmed me. “You’re probably the other woman yourself. That’s why your mind went there.” “I checked her profile. She’s some woman in her thirties. She’s obviously jealous because the streamer is young, pretty, and has a rich, powerful boyfriend who dotes on her.” “The account’s brand new. She’s obviously just a troll.” I tried to say more, only to realize I had already been kicked out of the livestream, and my account had been reported until I couldn’t even log back in. I stared at the proof of our marriage in the drawer for a long moment. Then I raised my hand and smacked my sleeping husband awake. “Exactly how many wives are you planning to have?”

My husband, Joseph Coleman, falls from the third floor, shatters both legs, and even injures what men fear losing most. I don't rush him to the nearest hospital. Instead, I drive him to a hospital two thousand miles away. In my previous life, Joseph jumped on purpose so the hospital intern he dotes on, Kimberly Parker, could secure a permanent spot by operating on him. He refused the capable surgeons nearby and insisted I take him to the hospital where Kimberly works, just so she can treat him. I turned him down because Kimberly is an untrained intern who got in through connections and has no surgical experience. Joseph had slapped me hard across the face. "I just want to use my injury to help Kim go permanent. Why are you being so petty?" He was dead set on Kimberly treating him. I worried the delay would ruin his legs, so I asked his mother, Diane Lowe, to talk sense into him. But what I never expected was Kimberly jumping from the hospital building when she failed her probation. Meanwhile, Joseph is treated in time, and both legs are spared. On the day he's discharged, I come smiling to take him home, but he runs me down with his car and kills me. As I collapse on the floor, choking on blood, I ask him why. He looks at me like I'm something stuck to his shoe. "If you hadn't stopped me from helping Kimberly go permanent, she never would've died!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Joseph falls and breaks his legs.

On the day I left for a business trip, my son, Billy Smith, livestreamed his suicide attempt from our home. While I took my time shopping at the mall, my younger sister, Lori Chaney, and my husband, Greg Smith, were beside themselves with panic. By the time I got the call from Lori, I dropped everything at work and rushed home. However, I reached home to see Billy sobbing into the camera. “Mom, whenever Dad isn’t home, you bring Mr. Scott into the house. After that, you’d force me to keep it a secret. When I refused to play along, you abused me in every way you could! I also found the medical report in your nightstand. You have AIDS, but you never told Dad. I’m ashamed to have a disgusting woman like you as my mother!” Billy then jumped from the building and landed on the rescue airbag without a scratch. I, however, became the target of public outrage. I tried to clear my name, but no one believed me. After all, who would risk his own life just to frame his mother? Greg even brought me a glass of poisoned milk and forced me to drink it. He then told everyone that I had committed suicide out of shame. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had been sent back in time to the day Billy threatened to kill himself.