Elena couldn't sleep.
She lay on her old bed, staring at the ceiling, surrounded by textbooks and stuffed animals and posters she hadn't thought she'd ever see again. The floral bedsheets, the squeak of the fan spinning above, the soft creak of the hallway floor outside. Everything was the same. Yet nothing felt the same. Not inside her.
Her heart still raced from what she'd done that day.
She had seen him.
Liam.
Not her Liam. Not the kind man who used to make her tea when she worked late or warmed her hands in his on cold walks in the park. This Liam was different. Younger. More rough around the edges. Distant. Angry. He hadn't recognized her, of course. How could he? In this timeline, they hadn't met. Not properly. Not yet.
But she had. She remembered.
The sound of his voice. The way he talked about his little brothers. The soft look in his eyes when he told her she made him feel like he mattered. The way she'd cradled him in the hospital, both of them knowing time was running out.
He had loved her. With all he had.
And she had loved him. With all she was.
Fate had brought her back here. To the beginning. And she wasn't going to waste it.
She had to get close to him. She had to find a way back into his life.
But how?
She knew Liam. Knew that walls like his didn't come down easily. He'd been alone for so long. People had walked away from him too many times. He didn't give trust freely.
Still. She was determined. The next morning, she made a decision.
At breakfast, she set down her spoon and looked across the table. Her voice was calm, but steady.
"Mom," she said. "I want to transfer schools."
Her mother blinked, mid-sip of her coffee. "Excuse me?"
"Westbridge," Elena said, keeping her expression neutral. "I know I've always done well at St. Claire's, but I want a different environment before college. I think public school will be a good challenge for me."
Her mother nearly choked. "Elena Vincent, are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea how hard we worked to get you into St. Claire's? The tuition, the application process, the interviews—"
"I already did the paperwork," Elena interjected, softly.
Her mother stared at her, mouth hanging open.
The argument that ensued was loud and dramatic. Voices were raised. Doors slammed. Her father barely had time to weigh in before it was over.
Elena, however, did not back down.
Monday morning, she was wearing a new uniform and walking the unfamiliar halls of Westbridge Public as the newest transfer student.
It felt like walking into a lion's den.
Everyone was staring as she passed. Students whispered behind hands, some even pointed. She heard her name more than once.
"Isn't that the girl from St. Claire's?"
"Yeah, I heard she's rich. And smart. Top of her class, like."
"Why would someone like her come here?"
"Maybe she got kicked out."
"She's kinda pretty, though…"
Elena ignored it all. She kept her head high. Walked straight to the front office, and collected her class schedule.
She skimmed the list of names. Math, English, History… and then—
There.
Liam Reyes. Same year. Same math class.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
It was a start.
The math classroom smelled faintly of chalk dust and pencil shavings. The paint on the walls was chipped, and the whiteboard had dark gray smudges that had never been properly erased.
Elena slid into a seat near the back, heart thudding in her chest.
And then he walked in.
Liam Reyes.
He stepped through the doorway, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, eyes scanning the room lazily. When he saw her, he paused.
Their eyes met. She smiled softly. "We're classmates now."
He blinked, then muttered, "Great," and walked to the farthest seat in the room.
It stung. But Elena had been expecting that. Liam had always needed time to trust. She wasn't giving up that easily.
After class, she waited for him at the door. "Hey," she said, walking beside him as he made his way for the exit. "Can I walk with you?"
He gave her a sidelong glance. "Why?"
She shrugged. "Maybe I like your hoodie."
He frowned. "You're weird."
"Maybe."
They walked in silence for a while.
Then he spoke again, voice low. "Do you need something?"
Elena looked over at him. "I want to know you."
That made him stop walking. He turned to face her, brows drawn together in suspicion.
"People like you don't talk to people like me," he said. "What's your game?"
"No game," she said honestly."Just… give me a chance."
He stared at her a second longer, then shook his head. "I'm not interested," he muttered, and walked away.
Elena watched him go, her chest tight.
But she didn't cry.
She knew Liam. Knew that behind the cold voice and guarded expression was a heart that had once loved her fiercely. Even when he pushed people away, he had always wanted to be seen. To be believed in. To be loved.
She would try again.
And again.
Until he saw her.
The next morning, Elena got to school early. She waited near the back gate, where she knew he usually came in.
Sure enough, he showed up right on time. Earbuds in, hoodie up, hands deep in pockets.
She stepped in front of him.
He paused, blinking. "You again?"
She nodded. "Walk with me."
He stared. "You're seriously not gonna leave me alone, are you?"
"Nope."
He studied her for a long moment, then sighed and muttered, "Fine. Walk."
They fell into step beside each other.
Silence hovered between them again, but it didn't feel as sharp this time.
Halfway to the school doors, he finally asked, "What's your deal?"
Elena glanced at him. "You want the truth?"
"Try me."
"I came to this school because of you."
He stopped.
"What?"
She turned to face him fully. "I wanted to meet you. I wanted to know you. And maybe…" She shrugged. "Help you."
He didn't say anything. His eyes searched hers for a long moment.
Then his voice dropped, colder than before. "I don't need your help."
And just like that, he turned and walked away.
Elena stood there, heart heavy. But her resolve didn't break.
She whispered to herself, watching him go, "You needed me once. And I'm not letting you go through life alone this time."
No matter how many times he pushed her away.
No matter how long it took.
She was going to love him again.
From the start.