Rewrite the StarsChapter 1

In my last life, I was the pathetic girl who followed the golden boy around like a stray dog.

The day I died in a sterile hospital room from terminal cancer, he was busy having the "Wedding of the Century" with his high school sweetheart.

Given a second chance at life, I’m back at the very moment I was supposed to confess to him.

Under the watchful eyes of the entire cafeteria, I marched past the golden boy and slammed my love letter onto the desk of the school’s most notorious rebel.

The silver-haired delinquent blinked awake from his nap, staring at the envelope covered in hand-drawn hearts.

"What’s this?"

Me: "For you. Scratch paper."

* * *

The classroom fell into a deafening silence.

The boy with the messy silver hair slowly looked up, revealing a face that was pure, unfiltered trouble. Sharp eyes, a high bridge to his nose, and a single silver hoop glinting in his right ear.

He looked dangerously attractive.

I heard several sharp intakes of breath around me. I couldn't tell if it was from awe or fear.

I remembered him: Jaxson Miller.

The rumor was that if you picked any three buildings on campus, his family had donated at least one of them. People called him "The Prince of the Hill," but mostly they just stayed out of his way.

A guy nearby joked, "Damn, Jax, looks like the flowers are blooming in your garden today. Who’s the secret admirer?"

Jaxson told him to shut up with a lazy, low-timbered voice. Then he turned to me. "What do you want?"

I stated it as if it were the most natural thing in the world: "I want to sit next to you. Any problem?"

More gasps. This time, definitely shock.

Jaxson leaned his head on his hand, a mocking half-smile playing on his lips. "I don't do seatmates. What makes you think you're special?"

We locked eyes. Neither of us blinked.

I gritted my teeth. I had no other choice.

In this AP track, there were only two seats left. If I didn't sit next to Jaxson, I’d be forced to sit next to Caleb Reed.

Sitting with Caleb was a death sentence for my soul.

I dropped my backpack onto the chair next to Jaxson and sat down, refusing to move. Jaxson’s brow furrowed with irritation. He looked like he was about to toss me out of the room.

"I told you—"

Before he could finish, I reached under the desk and grabbed his leg to keep him from standing up.

Jaxson froze. His entire body went rigid.

I leaned in and whispered, low enough that only we could hear:

"Please, just let me sit here. If I sit with Caleb, I’ll die. You have no idea—he’s a total creep. When no one’s looking, he crawls around on the floor like a weirdo. I heard he steals girls' clothes. I'm desperate, please..."

Sorry, Caleb. You can't hear me anyway. And even if you could, you deserve it.