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.

Soon, September 1st arrived. It was the perfect day for a reality check.

Autumn had settled over the city with crisp, clear skies. The towering gates of Pemberton University buzzed with activity as freshmen and their parents flooded in from every direction.

I was wheeling my suitcase toward the main plaza when I spotted a scene that stopped me in my tracks.

All 42 of them were there, decked out in cheap knockoff Pemberton t-shirts they had bulk-ordered online, crowding the entrance to the freshman check-in lane in one enormous herd.

Phoebe stood at the front, face flushed red, in a heated argument with the security guards and the orientation volunteers.

"Can you even use the system? I told you, we were approved through an internal channel! All we have to do is scan our IDs, and we're in!"

She stomped her foot and slammed her ID card on the table.

The volunteer manning the verification desk, a senior student drenched in sweat, held on to his patience and tried to explain.

"Look, I've scanned you through the system three times already. Your names aren't in there. And you don't even have acceptance letters! There's nothing I can do."

"Acceptance letters don't mean sh*t! Those are for regular people!"

Gavin shoved the volunteer aside and jabbed a finger at the security guard's face.

"Is your system broken? Get the head of admissions out here right now! If you stop forty-two geniuses from enrolling, can you handle the consequences?"

The guard looked at them like they had lost their minds and let out a dry laugh.

"Geniuses? I've been working security here for over ten years, and I've never seen a ‘genius’ show up without an acceptance letter. What school are you people actually from? Stop causing trouble!"

Phoebe panicked and whipped out her phone. She pulled up Babble and shoved the chat history in the guard's face.

"Open your eyes and read! Babble already said our enrollment records have been set up! This is the AI that submitted our applications. Are you saying it doesn't count?"

The guard squinted at the screen. He blinked once, then burst into loud, unrestrained laughter.

"Oh, my God! Did you kids fry your brains by doomscrolling too much?"

He pointed at the phone screen, not even trying to hide his amusement.

"An AI submitted your applications? Then have your AI print you a diploma while it's at it! What are you doing, causing a scene at Pemberton's front gate? Get out of here before I call the police!"

The freshmen and parents waiting in line had gathered around by now, pointing and whispering, laughter rippling through the crowd.

"What kind of world do we live in? Someone shows up with a chatbot screenshot and expects to get into Pemberton?"

"They probably bombed their exams and lost it completely. That's actually kind of sad."

The color drained from all 42 of their faces at once.

Keira tugged at the hem of Phoebe's shirt, panic creeping into her voice. "Phoebe, what's going on? Babble said the plan was foolproof."

Phoebe bit down hard on her lip. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she was still clinging to the last thread of hope.

"That's impossible! Babble wouldn't lie to me! It said we were in, so we're in!"

That was when Gavin caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye, standing at the edge of the crowd, watching it all unfold in silence.

He looked at me like I was equal parts scapegoat and salvation. His eyes went red, and he charged straight toward me.

"Maren! What are you doing standing over there, enjoying the show? You're one of us! Get over here and talk some sense into these people!"

He grabbed my suitcase handle and shouted in my face. I brushed his hand away and let the faintest smirk settle at the corner of my mouth.

"Talk sense into them about what? About how all of you got played by a brain-dead chatbot?"

I ignored the stunned looks on their faces, reached into my backpack, and pulled out a gold-embossed acceptance letter stamped with Pemberton's crest. Then, I walked straight toward the verification lane.