Your Destruction Is Not My Problem

It started after school, right when the late afternoon sun hits the lockers and turns the dust motes into gold. The new transfer student cornered Hallie, blocking her path to the tutoring center where wed spent every Tuesday since seventh grade.

He spun her a story that sounded like it was ripped from a bad sci-fi novel. He told her he was a "Player" in a high-stakes simulation, and she was his "Objective."

If he failed to capture her heart, he said, his existence would be wiped. Deleted.

Hallie believed him.

From that day on, Halliethe girl who color-coded her notes and dreamed of Stanfordvanished. In her place was someone who orbited him like a moon caught in a decaying gravity well.

SATs, Ivy League dreams, the pact we made in middle schoolshe threw it all into the bonfire of his vanity.

She didn't know he was lying.

She didn't know that dating her wasn't about destiny or survival. It was just a bet between him and his lacrosse buddies.

They were gambling on a simple question: Which was stronger? The allure of a bright future, or the charm of a bad boy?

The tips of Hallies ears were burning a bright, tell-tale crimson.

Her gaze darted between me and Cole, nervous and electric. It was the exact same look shed worn in my previous life.

"Hallie, if you're busy, I'm heading out," I said, my voice flat.

I didn't wait for an answer. I turned my back on them and started walking toward the bus loop.

As I passed the metal trash can near the gym doors, I reached into my pocket, wrapped my fingers around the voice recorder Id been clutching for twenty minutes, and dropped it inside.

Clunk.

Senior year was expensive. Time was currency. And I wasn't going to waste another cent of it on them.

In my last life, I had been on the roof of the science building practicing for AP French when I overheard Cole and his entourage.

"Bagging Hallie Miller? The resident genius?" one of them had laughed. "Good luck, man. That girl breathes textbooks."

"Forget it," another said. "She's gunning for Harvard. She won't look at you."

Cole had laughed thena low, arrogant sound. "Let's make it interesting. If I get her to wreck her future for me, you guys cover the senior trip to Cabo."

That day, I had taken the recording straight to Hallie.

I expected her to be grateful. I expected her to wake up. Instead, not only did she stay with him, but I became the target of Coles wrath.

He cornered me in the locker room showers, dumping buckets of filthy mop water over my head while his friends held the door.

His voice was low, venomous. "Watch your mouth, Archer. Or Ill make sure youre eating through a straw during finals."

He made good on his threat. I missed my exams. My GPA tanked.

And Cole? True to his word, he dumped Hallie the day before graduation.

He put on a tragic performance, telling her he couldn't let his "mission" destroy her potential. He claimed his life wasn't worth her future.

Hallie came finding me with eyes rimmed red from crying. She cornered me in the alley behind my house, her grip on my wrist painful and frantic.

"Archer, you are disgusting," she hissed.

"I told you to stay out of it. Why did you go to my parents? Why couldn't you just leave us alone?"

"Now Cole is breaking up with me. Are you happy now?"

I had stood there, stunned. I hadn't told her parents anything. Before I could explain, she shoved me.

Hard.

My head cracked against the concrete. The world went white, then warm as blood soaked my collar.

I grabbed the hem of her jeans, begging her to call 911.

She just looked down at me, her face twisted in revulsion, and kicked my hand away.

"Stop acting, Archer," she spat. "I wouldn't forgive you even if you died."

The bus hissed and pulled away from the curb.

Through the grimy window, I watched them. Hallie and Cole were wrapped around each other, kissing like the world was ending.

My memory stretched back, elastic and painful.

"Archer, we're going to rule the Ivies. Deal?"

"Yale or Harvard?"

"Wherever you go. Just don't leave me behind."

"Better start studying then, dreamer."

The girl who said those wordspassionate, sincere, brilliantwas a ghost now. The crush Id nursed for years had died in my previous life, somewhere between her watching Cole torment me and her lying to our teachers to protect him.

From that day forward, Hallie and I fell into a silent agreement of estrangement.

Even though we sat three desks apart, we were oceans away.

The bell rang, signaling the end of third period. A familiar, lazy voice drifted from the back door.

"Hallie-girl."

It was Cole.

The classroom erupted in whispers.

He leaned against the doorframe, crooked a finger at her, and smirked. His eyes were half-lidded, cat-like. He was wearing the oversized varsity jacket that belonged to the school's star quarterback, but Hallie was wearing his hoodie. It swallowed her frame, a branding iron made of cotton.

She blushed, immediately gathering her books.

My desk mate, a girl named Sarah, dropped her jaw. She poked my shoulder, pointing at their interlaced fingers.

"Archer, what is happening? Aren't you and Hallie, like... childhood sweethearts or something?"

She kept her voice down, but in the quiet room, it carried. Hallie froze near the door. Coles eyes flicked to me.

"Hallie and I are just neighbors," I said, loud enough for the back row to hear.

I shoved my calculus worksheet toward Sarah. "If you have time to gossip, you have time to check your work. You messed up the integration on question three."

Sarah blinked, confused by my coldness. She looked at my eyessteady, indifferentand laughed nervously. "Wrong? Really? Show me."

By the door, the tension left Hallie's shoulders. She tugged Coles hand, and they disappeared around the corner.

The class exploded into chatter.

The collision of high-stress academics and high-octane hormones was always messy. The room filled with words like "romantic," "soulmates," and "jealousy."

Even Sarah couldn't help but speculate on who made the first move.

I smiled at my paper and said nothing.

Only I knew the truth: Cole was playing a game he had already won.

His ante was a few months of his senior year. Hallies ante was her entire life.

Luckily, it was no longer my problem.

Hallie and I were what the old folks called "sandbox sweethearts."

Our parents were best friends. We shared playpens, then tricycles, then study guides.

From kindergarten through junior year, we were a package deal. Even in Northwood High, where the tracking system split friends up based on GPA, we stayed together in the Honors track.

We tutored each other. We spent weekends in the silent section of the public library. We played duet piano at the talent show.

If she was Valedictorian, I was Salutatorian, or vice versa.

I was competitive; she was a perfectionist.

Even socially, we matched. She was the homecoming princess type; I was the captain of the debate teamnot a jock, but respected.

I used to thank the universe for Hallie. She was my pacemaker, the rabbit I chased around the track.

But that Hallie vanished the day Cole transferred in.

He arrived at the start of senior year. His placement test scores were mediocre, so he wasn't in our AP classes, but his name filtered through the hallways like smoke.

He was beautiful in a way that signaled danger. Old money, new car, bad attitude.

The moment he arrived, the spotlight shifted. The love notes that used to find their way into my locker were suddenly being redirected to his.

Back then, stupidly, I had asked Hallie: "Who's better looking? Me or the new guy?"

She hadn't looked me in the eye. She just stared at her sneakers, cheeks pink. "You guys are... different."

In hindsight, she was already gone.

Cole was different. He was aiming for art school, or maybe just coasting on a trust fund. Compared to the boys in oversized hoodies and glasses, he looked like a catalogue model.

He was the forbidden fruit in a garden of overachievers.

So when he smiled that crooked smile and blocked her path, and she actually stopped walking... he had already won the game.

Coles story was ridiculous. He claimed to be a "conquest player."

He said the universe gave him a mission right before school started: Conquer Hallie Miller.

He had to reach 100% "affection rating" by graduation, or hed be "erased."

Hallie swallowed it whole.

It didn't matter that Cole had dated half the cheer squad at his old school. She believed she was the anomaly, the savior.

In my last life, I had run to her, breathless, playing that recording.

I warned her: "If Cole asks you out, it's a bet. It's a game. Don't say yes."

The result? She dove headfirst into the fire.

When she first threatened to drop the National Chemistry Olympiad to hang out with him, I tried again.

"A mission? A simulation? Hallie, listen to yourself. You're smarter than this."

That was the turning point. I went from friend to obstacle.

I missed the Olympiad myself because Cole locked me in a supply closet. When I found Hallie, bruised and desperate, she looked at me with cold, dead eyes.

"I told you to mind your own business, Archer."

"If it weren't for me asking Cole to go easy on you, you'd have lost a lot more than a chemistry test."

Her tolerance gave Cole permission to escalate. The bullying became a daily ritual.

The final time, when he dumped trash over me in the bathroom, I went to the administration.

They called our parents.

I never mentioned Hallie. I just wanted it to stop.

But Hallie? She went to the principal and my parents. She spun a narrative that I was the aggressorthat I was jealous of Cole stealing my thunder, that I was spreading rumors to smear him.

She paraded a dozen of Coles friends as witnesses.

Between the false testimonies and Coles father threatening to sue the school district, the principal caved.

I was branded the jealous, vindictive liar. I was isolated.

The bell for the next period rang, snapping me back to the present.

This time, I didn't text Hallie to remind her about the Chemistry Olympiad registration.

My future was supposed to be bright.

And this time, it would be.

I didn't expect the collapse to happen so fast.

Not only did Hallie skip the Chemistry Olympiad, but she also transferred out of the AP track.

She bombed the placement exam on purpose, leaving half the answer sheet blank.

I was in the faculty office asking Mr. Henderson about a recommendation letter when I heard him grilling her.

"Hallie, think about this," Henderson pleaded. "Kids kill themselves studying to get into these classes. You're throwing away a golden ticket. Is it worth it?"

Hallie pressed her lips into a thin line, silent.

On Hendersons desk sat a glass mason jar. It was filled with hundreds of tiny, hand-folded paper stars.

"Teenage romance is... powerful," Henderson sighed, rubbing his temples. "I can't tell you who to date. But I can tell you this: some choices don't have a ctrl-z button."

He looked pained. His hands shook slightly. He reminded me of the teachers in my last life who saw me bleeding but were too afraid of a lawsuit to help.

"I won't regret it," Hallie said. Her eyes lit up with a terrifying, manic joy.

She grabbed the jar of starsher offering to Coleand bolted from the room like shed been given a pardon.

Henderson sat there for a long time before picking up the phone to call her parents.

Hallie was the school's pride. "God's Favorite," we used to joke.

If she wanted to learn piano, she was playing Mozart in six months. If she picked up a paintbrush, she won awards. Academics were breathing to her.

I used to stay up until 3:00 AM just to keep pace with her natural brilliance.

I used to tell her, "God didn't just open a door for you; he tore down the whole wall."

She would knock on my head and say, "That means you just have to run faster, Archer."

Now, she was bricking up the wall herself, just to sit in the rubble with Cole.

When I got back to class, her desk was empty. She was gone.

According to Sarah, Hallie dropped the class because Cole was "insecure" about our history. He didn't like the rumors that we were the school's power couple.

So, to prove her loyalty, she severed the academic tie.

Irony is a cruel mistress, though: even with her self-sabotage, she didn't test low enough to get into Coles remedial classes.

But that didn't stop the public display of affection.

Hallies parents flew back from Chicago in a panic.

They had been working double shifts in another state to fund her college savings. They thought their daughter was on autopilot to the Ivy League.

When they stood in the principal's office, they looked like theyd been hit by a truck.

The shock wasn't just the grades. It was the truancy.

Hallie and Cole had been skipping school for three days.

They spent nights at internet cafes gaming; they hustled pool at dive bars; they used fake IDs to get into clubs, dancing until dawn in a haze of dry ice and cheap cologne.

They were burning their futures to keep warm.

It took three days for her parents to track her down.

When Hallie walked into the office, she looked different. Her sleek, natural hair was permed into wild waves and dyed a shocking platinum blonde.

She was holding Coles hand, her chin tilted up in defiance.

"Mom, Dad. Why are you here?" she asked, her voice light, almost bubbly. "Perfect timing. I want you to meet my boyfriend, Cole."

Her dad turned purple. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Her mom, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, looked at Coles smug face and snapped. She stepped forward and swung.

Slap.

Hallie threw herself in front of Cole. The slap caught her square on the cheek.

"Mom! Are you crazy?" Hallie shrieked, clutching her face. "I told you he's my boyfriend! You can't just hit people!"

She was trembling with rage, defending the predator from the protector.

Her mom burst into tears and ran out of the room. Her dad gave Hallie a look of pure devastationa look that said I don't know you anymoreand chased after his wife.

Cole? He just took a calm step back. He didn't even help her up.

I arrived with my paperwork just in time to see Hallie scramble off the floor. She brushed the dust off her jeans and immediately curled into Coles side, uncaring of the audience.

"It's okay, Cole," she whispered, stroking his chest. "My parents will come around. Don't worry."

Cole turned his face toward me.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with mockery. It was the exact same look from the locker room in my past life.

But this time, I didn't feel fear. I just felt... bored.

I walked out of the office, but Hallie was waiting for me.

She grabbed my sleeve and dragged me toward the stairwell leading to the roof.

Up there, the wind was whipping around. Cole was leaning against the parapet, smoking a cigarette.

"You called them," Hallie said. Ice cold.

"No," I said.

She didn't believe me.

I sighed, stepping back to put distance between us. "Hallie, the world doesn't revolve around you. I was in the office for my own business. I don't care about your little rebellion."

I looked past her, straight at Cole.

"And you," I said to the boy who had killed me in another life. "I don't care about your game. I have zero interest in Hallie. She's all yours."

Coles smirk deepened. He walked over and draped an arm around Hallies shoulders.

"Easy, tiger. She's your childhood friend. No need to be so cold." He looked at Hallie. "Archer is pretty impressive. Gold medal in the Science Fair? Probably a lock for Stanford."

He paused, fake guilt washing over his face. "Babe, didn't you miss the qualifiers because I had that stomach ache? If it weren't for me, you'd be the one getting scouted."

He was testing her. Look, I cost you your future. Do you still love me?

Hallie stiffened, but only for a second. Then she glared at me.

"Archer, stop acting superior," she snapped. "It's just a gold medal. If I had competed, you wouldn't have even placed."

"And listen to me: Stay out of my life. We are neighbors. That's it. Don't let me catch you snitching to my parents again."

"We..."

I clenched my fists at my sides. The girl in front of me was a stranger wearing my best friend's face.

"There is no 'we,' Hallie," I cut in. "I don't know you. We're neighbors. Got it?"

Cole was wrong about one thing.

I hadn't secured a spot at Stanford yet. The Gold Medal was good, but it wasn't a guarantee for the National Team.

And Hallie was wrong, too. Even if she had competed, she might not have won. The world is full of geniuses.

In my last life, I was so busy trying to be her safety net that I never saw how big the ocean really was. I died a frog in a well.

This time, I was climbing out.

I left the roof as the bell rang. I ran back to class, leaving them behind.

Through the window, I saw them running across the football field, hand in hand, bathed in the golden sunset.

They looked picturesque. They looked like trash.

Garbage belongs in the bin, but unfortunately, these two couldn't be recycled together.

Because it was all fake.

Cole had actually approached me a week ago. I overheard him bragging to his friends in the locker room about the "conquest." He knew I heard.

That was why he bullied me in the first lifeto silence the witness.

This time, when he cornered me, I looked him in the eye and said: "I didn't hear anything. And frankly, I don't care. Do whatever you want, just don't impact my GPA."

He had laughed, surprised. "Smart kid."

Of course I was smart.

I was just saving my energy for the finale. I wanted to see the look on Hallies face the day before graduation.