
Even though the prettiest girl in my class, Phoebe Jones, bombed her college entrance exams, she claimed she had gotten into the prestigious Pemberton University and was just waiting for orientation day. She even guaranteed she could get the whole class in, too.
Everyone erupted in cheers, put her up on the class podium, and lined up to hand over their applications.
Something did not sit right with me, so I asked a few questions.
Her 'exclusive enrolment channel' turned out to just be an AI chatbot called Babble.
Babble had promised her it had reserved exclusive spots at Pemberton and guaranteed she would be registered by the start of the term.
I tried to warn everyone that it was just an AI telling her what she wanted to hear, but my childhood friend was the first to jump to her defense.
"Maren, how could you think that about Phoebe? She's doing this for the whole class. What's your problem?"
My best friend added, "Maren, AI is the way of the future. You can't just dismiss it because you don't get it."
That was all it took to turn the whole class against me. They pushed me around until I tumbled down the stairs, cracked my head open, and died on the spot.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at the moment Phoebe announced she had gotten into Pemberton.
I could not save people who were hell-bent on their own destruction, so this time, I wished them nothing but the best.
The splitting pain in the back of my skull still seemed to linger at every nerve ending. I snapped my eyes open and gasped for air.
The classroom was drowning in cheers.
"Phoebe, that's insane! You barely passed your exams and still got into Pemberton? You're literally our savior!"
"Only the prettiest girl in class could have such an exclusive insider connection like that!"
"Please, please, please take me with you! I want to get into Pemberton too!"
I sat drenched in cold sweat, staring at the scene unfolding before me, familiar yet completely absurd.
Phoebe Jones, a girl who could not even solve a quadratic equation on her best day, held up her brand-new iPhone from the classroom podium with a look of smug triumph plastered across her face.
On the screen was an AI chatbot interface.
I had returned to the past, two hours before my death.
"Line up, everyone! One at a time!" Phoebe basked in the adoration, her voice dripping with sweetness.
"I paid top dollar to unlock Babble's premium tier. It already guaranteed me that all you have to do is send it your ID number, and it'll lock in an exclusive enrollment spot at Pemberton for you."
A handful of students who actually had decent grades held on to a shred of sense and spoke up cautiously.
"Phoebe, is an AI really reliable? W-what if it doesn't go through? These are our real exams we're talking about!"
My childhood friend, Gavin Holt, jumped in like a guard dog let off its leash the moment someone dared question the girl he worshipped.
"What do you people know? It's literally called ‘artificial intelligence’! It's the way of the future! Phoebe's being generous enough to share something this valuable with all of you, yet you have the nerve to doubt her?"
Phoebe's eyes reddened with a wounded look, and she tapped her phone with a pout. "Fine! If you don't believe me, I'll just ask Babble myself."
Babble replied within seconds, a wall of text filling the screen.
Phoebe hit the text-to-speech button, and a robotic female voice echoed through the silent classroom.
"Dear user, please rest assured. This system has gained full access to Pemberton University's internal admissions network. Should you fail to enroll as scheduled, our company will compensate you $5 million in emotional damages. We have a top-tier team of hackers working to ensure your success."
The classroom erupted the moment they heard ‘$5 million’.
"Holy crap! $5 million! So even if I don't get into Pemberton, I’ll walk away with $5 million? That's a win-win situation!"
"Phoebe, sign me up! I don't even care about getting in. I just want the $5 million!"
"Exactly! Even if I don't get in, $5 million would have me set for life!"