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!"

Looking at the frenzy that had consumed my classmates, all I felt was the absurdity of it all.

Babble had merely generated a meaningless block of text, yet an entire class of high school seniors believed it wholeheartedly.

When the excitement hit its peak, Gavin jumped onto the podium. Eager to show off in front of Phoebe, he shouted out a suggestion so reckless that it bordered on deranged.

"Listen up! Since Phoebe's already used AI to lock in our spots at Pemberton, that official government application portal is completely useless to us now!

"So, to prove we trust Phoebe, and to celebrate the fact that our entire class is about to walk through Pemberton's gates together, I say we do this!

"Every single one of us will change our application to Pinewood Vocational College in the official system!"

The classroom went dead silent for a second.

The official system was serious business. Once a selection was changed, there was no taking it back.

Phoebe saw the room’s hesitation and immediately typed a question into the chatbot.

A few seconds later, she held up her phone and yelled, "Babble says it doesn't matter what you put in the official system! It won't affect their backdoor operation at all! In fact, the worse your choice looks, the better. It's a smokescreen, so Babble can work its magic without drawing attention!"

Between Babble's ‘expert confirmation’ and Gavin fanning the flames, the last shred of reason in the room disappeared.

"Let's do it! I'm with Gavin!"

"Yeah! We're basically already Pemberton students. What's wrong with sticking a vocational school in the system just to mess with it?"

"This is incredible! Imagine showing up to Pemberton on the first day with vocational school paperwork. Everyone's jaws will hit the floor! This is our graduation blowout!"

One by one, the students pulled out their phones, logged into the official application portal, and deleted their first- and second-choice universities without a moment's hesitation. Every last option was replaced with the lowest-tier diploma mill they could find.

I stood quietly in the corner, watching them howl with laughter as they hit the ‘submit’ button.

It was like watching a circus act performed by people who did not know they were the joke.

They had destroyed twelve years of hard work with their own hands and still thought they were rebels ‘breaking the system’.

Out of the 43 students in the class, 42 had already changed their applications. Every pair of eyes in the room landed on me, the only one who had not.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the door. I wanted out of this asylum.

"Stop right there!"

Gavin lunged forward in a single stride and planted himself in the doorway. A few boys fell in behind him and boxed me into the corner against the wall.

"Maren, where do you think you're going? The whole class has already changed theirs. Do you think you're special?"

His eyes were vicious, the exact same look he wore in my last life when he shoved me down the stairs.

"We're a team! If you don't change your application to a vocational school today, you're not walking out of this classroom!"

Phoebe strolled over in her little white sneakers and looked down at me, her tone dripping with condescending generosity.

"Maren, I know you care about your pride. Are you scared I won't use Babble to submit your enrollment? Is that why you're clinging to your official application?

"If you change your selection to a vocational school right now, in front of everyone, I'll do you the enormous favor of putting in your Pemberton application too. We're classmates. Of course I'd bring you along for the ride."

The rest of the class immediately chimed in.

"Seriously, Maren, don't be ungrateful!"

"Phoebe's being this generous, yet you're still making a fuss?"

"If you don't change it, that means you don't trust Phoebe, and that makes you a traitor to this whole class!"

My so-called best friend, Keira Beckett, sidled over, putting on her best show of concern. "Maren, just hand over your login and password. Gavin's only doing this for class unity. If you're the odd one out now, how are you gonna fit in with everyone once we're at Pemberton?"

I looked at the mob closing in on me and took a deep breath.

If I pushed back now, I was sure what had happened in my last life would happen again.

This time around, I did not just want to watch them crash and burn. I needed to keep myself safe while it happened.

Besides, none of them knew that students on national scholarships had their records handled outside of the regular application system.

As the gold medalist in this year’s National Physics Olympiad, I had been personally selected by Pemberton's dean for guaranteed admission. My file had been pulled into Pemberton's system long ago.

Even if I put Cloverfield Community College in the portal, my records were already sitting safe and sound in Pemberton's admissions office.

I put on my best frightened look, bit my lip, and let a flicker of ‘surrender’ cross my face.

"Fine, I'll change it. But I can't bring myself to do it. Gavin, you do it for me."

I gave him my username and password.

Gavin let out a smug, triumphant scoff, as though he had just won the war. He immediately logged into my account and deleted every top-tier university I had listed as the entire class watched. He hammered in the diploma mill's name with obvious glee and slammed the ‘submit’ button.

"Done!" He held up the phone for the whole class to see.

The classroom exploded into thunderous cheers. Phoebe flicked her hair with a satisfied toss and typed my name into the chatbot.

"There, Maren. Babble has already replied. Your Pemberton spot is locked in. Make sure you thank me properly when the semester starts."

I looked at the staggering stupidity on Phoebe's face and smiled with a nod.

"Of course. When the semester starts, I will definitely 'thank' you properly."

I walked out of the classroom with my bag slung over my shoulder. Behind me, I could hear them making plans to go out and celebrate all night.

I looked up at the blinding sun and felt lighter than I had in a long time.

I wanted them to go ahead and celebrate, to let it all out. The higher they flew, the harder they would break when they fell.

The long, sweltering summer passed in a haze of manic excitement for the rest of the class. The group chat blew up every single day, hundreds of unread messages piling up without end.

Phoebe ruled the chat like she had crowned herself queen.

Phoebe: [Has everyone bought their Pemberton spirit shirts yet? I’ve already got mine! We're all wearing them when we show up to Pemberton on our first day!]

Gavin: [Got mine! Whatever Phoebe wears, I wear! I can't wait to see the look on the Pemberton security guards' faces when 43 of us show up at once!]

Keira: [I'm so excited! Oh, by the way, did everyone get the acceptance letter from that vocational college? I'm dying of laughter. They actually mailed it to me!]

Sure enough, by mid-August, the physical acceptance letters from the vocational college had landed in their mailboxes one after another.

The group chat panicked for about half a minute. Then, Phoebe sent a screenshot from Babble.

In the screenshot, Babble was spouting its usual nonsense with perfect confidence.

Babble: [Dear user, receiving the vocational college acceptance letter is a standard part of the operation’s protocol. Please do not be alarmed. Your internal Pemberton student file has been fully registered. Simply present your ID at the Pemberton freshman check-in desk on September 1st.]

With Babble's stamp of approval, the class threw caution to the wind entirely. They ripped up their vocational college acceptance letters, burned them, and even filmed themselves doing it for social media.

Meanwhile, I had quietly signed my own acceptance letter at the beginning of August. It was an exclusive guaranteed-admission letter, personally signed by Pemberton's dean.

I locked it away in my desk drawer and waited in silence for the first day of the semester to arrive.