I Time-Traveled to Defeat My Boyfriend's Dead Ex, Only to Die Saving Her

My boyfriend had a ghost.

Everyone says you can't compete with the dead.

Fine.

Then I'll bring the dead back to life, and then I'll defeat her.

I used a time machine to become her high school classmate, the one who would save her from the edge.

I’d give her light. I’d give her love. I’d be the one in her corner.

I never expected that in the end…

I would become the ghost in her story.

1

I finally saw him—Ethan’s ghost, the girl who died too young. Seraphina.

Here I was, standing in the senior classroom of Northwood High’s advanced track, listening to our new homeroom teacher, Mr. Davison, introduce me. "Class, this is Lia. She’s a transfer student from out of state. Let's make her feel welcome."

A wave of warm applause broke out, but it didn't stir the girl buried in a book in the back of the room. Seraphina.

She sat alone in the last row, an empty seat on every side of her, like a deserted island.

Mr. Davison told me to pick any open seat.

My mission was clear. I walked straight to the empty desk beside her.

I dropped into the chair and beamed at her. "Hey, new desk buddy. I'm Lia. Hope we can get along."

She finally lifted her gaze from her book.

And I finally saw her face.

She was a classic, fragile kind of beauty. Skin so pale it seemed to glow, features like they were painted on, but her expression was numb, vacant. Honestly, the group photo I’d seen at Ethan’s house didn’t capture a tenth of her beauty.

So my rival was this stunning, I thought, a little smugly. At least I won't lose face.

My self-congratulation was cut short by her voice, as cold and flat as a frozen lake. "Find another seat. I don’t like people sitting next to me."

That sharp?

Weren't these idealized ghosts supposed to be gentle, kind, the epitome of all things good? Had I gotten the stereotype all wrong?

But I had traveled through time for her. I wasn't about to give up that easily. I brazenly reached for her hand, my voice dropping into a playful, wheedling tone. "But you're so pretty. I have a thing for sitting next to gorgeous girls."

She froze.

I could tell she had never in her life encountered someone so completely shameless.

It took her a solid moment to react. She snatched her hand back and ducked her head, pretending to focus on her book again. She was trying to act like nothing happened, but I could see the blush creeping up her neck.

I hid a triumphant smile.

When it comes to winning people over, if I’m number two, no one dares claim to be number one.

2

Within a single lunch period, I’d managed to get friendly with most of my new classmates.

They were more than happy to share the local gossip.

"Seraphina's mom is terrifying. Like, a total psycho, straight out of a psych ward."

"She forbids anyone from getting close to Sera. She told us if anyone even talks to her, she’ll kill them."

"Sera already had early admission to Yale, but her mom forced her to give it up. She wants Sera to apply the normal way, and she has to be valedictorian with a perfect SAT score."

"She even made our last homeroom teacher cry. He couldn't take it anymore and transferred, that’s why we have Mr. Davison now."

…

From these scattered bits of information, I pieced together a picture of Seraphina’s life.

A single-parent household.

A controlling, mentally unstable mother.

A mandatory six-foot bubble around Seraphina, devoid of any human contact.

I finally understood why she had given up.

Trapped in a suffocating, toxic environment like that for so long… I’m not sure I could have survived it either.

"Just wait until you see her mom at the parent-teacher conference. Lia, you should get away while you still can," a girl named Maya warned.

Just as she said it, Seraphina walked back into the classroom, holding a lunchbox.

Her face was a mask of calm as she returned to her seat.

She opened the box. Inside was a steaming, home-cooked meal. She picked up her spoon and began to eat in silence.

As she raised her arm, her long sleeve slid down, revealing a series of shocking, jagged scars across her wrist.

I stared, frozen.

Those were…

Her senses were razor-sharp. She noticed my gaze instantly.

She didn't say a word, just pulled her sleeve back down with a blank expression, hiding her wrist once more.

An inexplicable tightness formed in my chest.

I wasn’t sure if she had overheard what Maya said when she came in.

After a moment of hesitation, I leaned in and made her a promise. "Don't worry, Seraphina. I'm not switching seats. I'm staying right here."

The movement of her spoon paused for a fraction of a second.

"They're right," she replied, her voice soft. "It would be better for both of us if you moved."

She didn't look at me when she spoke, her eyes fixed on the food in her lunchbox. The steam rose, clinging to her long, curled lashes.

Her expression was so cold, yet she looked like she could shatter into a million pieces.

Her words said go away, but I could have sworn her soul was screaming: Don't leave. Save me.

I spoke with a fierce determination. "What do you mean, no one is allowed within six feet of you? Screw that. I'm getting closer."

And I didn't just get closer. I leaned over and wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug.

"Seraphina," I whispered, "whether you believe me or not, I came here for you."

"Let's be friends, Sera."

If no one else is going to save you, then I will.

And then, I'll beat you, fair and square.

3

Seraphina stared at me, her eyes suddenly turning red and welling up with tears.

She didn't dare blink.

She frantically lowered her head to hide her face, shoveling food into her mouth in big, desperate bites.

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks with each movement, falling silently into her lap.

Damn it, I sighed internally. Seraphina’s mom was a real piece of work, pushing her own daughter to the brink.

We spent the next two weeks like this.

While Seraphina still greeted me with a cool expression, the numbness in her eyes had begun to fade.

She was slowly getting used to my presence.

It had been almost half a month since I transferred, and there was still no sign of Ethan. I was getting antsy, so I decided to ask Maya about him.

Her face lit up with the expression of someone who’d just stumbled upon prime gossip. "Tsk, tsk," she clicked her tongue. "I knew it. Why else would someone go through all the trouble of transferring schools in the middle of senior year? You're here for the golden boy, Ethan, aren't you?"

I started to deny it. "No, I—"

She made an 'O' with her fingers and playfully clamped it over my mouth, shushing me. She gave me a conspiratorial wink, her face saying, No need to explain, I get it. "Don't even try. You can lie to me, but can you lie to your own heart?"

What was with the cheesy soap opera dialogue?

"You're wasting your talent," I said, my head aching. "You should be writing novels."

Her eyes lit up as if she'd found her soulmate. "You think so too? I should write a story about you and Ethan! A brave girl fearlessly pursues her love, conquering the untouchable prince of the school…"

She was off, lost in her burst of inspiration, rambling on and on.

I turned away in exasperation and found myself looking directly into the eyes of Seraphina, who was standing right behind me.

I had no idea when she’d returned.

She stared at me, her expression unreadable, her eyes a little cold.

I felt a strange pang of guilt, though I had no idea what I had to feel guilty about. I fidgeted, suddenly awkward.

Seraphina silently returned to her seat. After a moment, she spoke, her voice calm and even. "Ethan already has early admission. He doesn't have to attend classes. You'll have a hard time finding him at school."

I scratched my head. "Oh, okay. I see."

He'd never mentioned that when we were dating. So, he had gotten early admission too.

He and Seraphina really were a match for each other.

My state school degree felt completely inadequate in front of these two academic powerhouses.

4

I couldn't tell if it was my imagination, but it felt like Seraphina was angry with me. For days, she barely gave me the time of day.

That afternoon during lunch, I went to a coffee shop and bought two Caramel Macchiatos, planning to make a peace offering.

When I walked back into the classroom, I found it in chaos, a crowd of students gathered in a circle.

I pushed my way through the throng.

My heart sank at what I saw.

Desks and chairs were overturned. Notebooks and pens were crushed and scattered across the floor. The entire area was a disaster zone.

Seraphina stood in the middle of it all, soaking wet, her head bowed as she stared blankly at the ground.

She was alone, the silent epicenter of a storm of whispers and stares.

Everyone was just watching. No one had even bothered to get a teacher.

The ringleader, a girl with long, straight black hair, had a lollipop stick hanging from her lips. She stood with her arms crossed, giving a cold command. "Do it."

A guy with a buzz cut standing behind her surged forward, grabbed Seraphina by the hair, and slammed her head against a desk. "You're just as disgusting as your psycho mom! Freaks like you don't deserve to be alive—"

A hot rush of rage flooded me. I lunged forward and kicked him squarely where it counts. "Say one more word!"

The buzz-cut guy crumpled to the floor, curled into a ball, whining and crying.

I was completely enraged. I went into a blind fury, landing a few more kicks for good measure, seeing red. "Garbage like you gets to live, but a wonderful girl like Sera doesn't? Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"The person I’ve worked so hard to protect is not about to be bullied by some worthless piece of trash like you! You think you have the right?!"

After the furious assault, I still wasn't satisfied.

I spun around and slapped the lollipop girl across the face several times. "You could be anything, and you choose to be a wannabe gangster? Today, I’m going to give you a taste of what real life is like."

Lollipop girl shrieked. "Where did this psycho come from?! What are you standing there for? Help me!"

Another one of her goons, a guy with bleached-blond hair, finally snapped out of it and rushed toward me. "Are you looking to die?!"

I held up a hand. "Hold it!"

The blond guy, confused and wary, actually stopped.

I took off my school jacket and draped it over Seraphina’s shoulders. I held her gently, forcing her to look me in the eye. "Seraphina, you listen to me. You are not alone. You have me!"

"We promised to be friends, remember? And what are friends for? They're the ones who have your back when trouble starts!"

She looked at me, her eyes slowly clouding over with a film of tears.

But I smiled. "Give me the length of one song. I’ll take care of them, and then we'll have our coffee."

With that, I took the Sony headphones from around my neck and placed them over her ears.

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