Learning to Play the Fool

Recalling everything from my previous life had me unconsciously clenching my fists tightly—yet my face still wore a wronged, pitiful expression. "Why aren't you two saying anything? I really didn't do it on purpose."

As I watched Maisie and Chloe slam the door and storm out, I snorted as I sat back down in my chair. 'Huh! You wanted to play the bimbo? I can do that too.'

…

That weekend, I went to the campus convenience store with Maisie. The moment I spotted Vincent Arden—top student, campus golden boy—wearing an employee uniform, I knew exactly what she was about to do.

Sure enough, the next second, she locked onto Vincent, pretended not to watch where she was going, and hurried straight toward him. But the guy suddenly turned into another aisle. Maisie couldn't stop in time and smashed headfirst into a display shelf. Bottles of sauces came crashing down one after another, splattering across the floor in a huge mess.

The commotion immediately drew a crowd. Realizing she'd caused trouble, Maisie panicked on the spot. Then her eyes met mine. Just like in my memories, she grabbed onto me like a lifeline and waved frantically. "Naomi, don't go!"

That single shout made passersby turn to stare at me suspiciously, as if I were the one who'd caused it all.

In my last life, with the bimbo filter firmly protecting Maisie, everyone believed her without question. No matter how I tried to explain, I'd ended up being forced to pay a full month's worth of living expenses.

This time, just as I was about to pull out the video I'd secretly recorded in advance, Vincent suddenly appeared. He glanced at the mess on the floor, then walked over to me. His first words weren't a reprimand, but gentle concern. "Are you hurt?"

Meeting those calm, deep-set eyes, a thought flickered through my mind, and tears immediately welled up. "You're… you're asking about me? It's all my fault, I—"

Before I could finish, Maisie, seeing that Vincent was concerned about me, hurriedly shoved me aside. "What are you saying, Naomi? I'm the one who knocked over the shelf!"

She stepped shyly in front of Vincent. "Hi, my name's Maisie. Thank you for your concern—I'm not hurt. Would you like us to get to know each other?"

The very next second, a staff member wearing a manager's badge appeared, his expression grave. "In that case, Miss, please come with me to discuss compensation."

Maisie froze, the smile on her lips instantly stiffening.

…

That evening, when I returned to the dorm carrying a stack of exam admission slips, Maisie immediately rushed over, firing questions at me nonstop. "Naomi, what did Vincent say to you when he chased after you today? Where did you two go afterward?"

I paused, recalling the afternoon. While Maisie had been stopped and pressed about compensation, I'd turned around decisively and left. Vincent had hurried after me from behind, calling out, "Hey—wait."

He'd hesitated, then spoken carefully. "Just… be careful of that friend of yours. And I… could I add you on WhatsApp?"

I'd been briefly stunned, thanked him politely, then declined and walked away.

Honestly, I found it a little strange myself. Vincent and I had never really crossed paths. Even in my previous life, I'd only seen him from afar a handful of times. I just knew he was a well-known figure from the neighboring class, always surrounded by people. Unlike me—constantly isolated, always coming and going alone, hovering on the fringes of every crowd. As for him helping me carry my luggage on the first day of school, I hadn't even remembered it until Maisie mentioned it right before I died.

At that, I cupped my cheeks with both hands, put on a shy act, and said coyly, "He didn't say anything, really."

Maisie's expression darkened. She clearly didn't believe me. "You're not going to tell me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I pouted, copying her usual tone. "But you know me—I'm such a scatterbrain. My head's kinda empty, so I really can't remember."

Maisie rolled her eyes in irritation. "Fine. Forget it, then. Here, I ordered you a drink. Hurry up and drink it."

One look was enough for me to know she was up to no good. Still, I put on a delighted expression. "Wow! Thanks, Maisie!"

Then, under her burning gaze, I slid the straw into the cup.

Spilled and Turned

Just before the drink reached my lips, I reached out and grabbed Chloe, who had just come out of the shower. "Chloe, I'm really sorry about what happened last time. Since Maisie treated me to this drink, I'll pass it on to you instead—consider it my apology, okay?”

Faced with my pitiful look, Chloe took the cup with clear impatience. Maisie panicked instantly and tried to stop it. "No, you can't—”

"Why not?" I cut her off, blinking innocently. "It's fine, I'm on a diet anyway.”

Maisie was left speechless, stammering helplessly as she could only watch Chloe take a big gulp of the drink.

Ten minutes later, Chloe clutched her stomach and rushed into the bathroom, her face twisted in pain.

'I knew it—it was spiked.' I laughed to myself, but on the surface, I put on a worried expression. "What's going on? Should we go see the school nurse?”

Maisie was both furious and anxious, clearly wanting to say something but not daring to. Suddenly, her eyes darted, and she poked a straw into her own cup again, stubbornly thrusting it toward me. "Here—drink mine! I haven't touched it!”

"What?” I waved my hands in refusal. "But how could I…”

"It's fine. Just drink it. If you don't, you're disrespecting me!”

"But—oh no!”

During the scuffle, Maisie's grip slipped, and the drink spilled across the table, soaking the stack of exam admission slips perfectly.

"Shit!”

I didn't bother arguing with her. I hurriedly shook off the liquid and wiped at the slips—but it was no use.

In my previous life, she had used this exact trick to ruin the entire class' admission slips, then turned around and accused me of doing it. The result was that everyone blamed me, the class monitor, for poor management and nearly ruined the next day's exam.

Staring at the slips now, blurred and soaked, I fell silent. Maisie, meanwhile, clutched her head as if she had a headache and immediately flipped the blame. "How could you not catch it properly?! Look at this—now they're all ruined!”

Between a few grumbling complaints, Maisie had already impatiently embellished the story and sent it to the class chat. The group instantly exploded.

'What? You've got to be kidding me?!'

'Tomorrow's the exam, and she pulls this now?!'

Maisie shot me a smug glance and deliberately fanned the flames. 'It's true. But everyone, don't blame Naomi too much. She is just a bimbo, after all.'

Just like in my previous life, the verbal attacks came flooding in.

'I said it from the start—Naomi should never have been made class monitor! Look what happened!'

'If Maisie hadn't strongly recommended her, I wouldn't have voted for her at all!'

'This is ridiculous. I'm reporting this to the counselor!'

'Naomi, stop hiding and come explain yourself! How are you going to fix this?!'

'Fix it how? It's already eleven at night. The exam printing portal's closed, and the counselor's off work!'

'If we can't sit for the exam tomorrow, you'd better be ready for a demerit! I'll be the first to report this to the dean!'

Seeing the outrage reach a boiling point, Maisie could barely hide the glee at the corners of her mouth. I kept my head down, typing quietly. 'I'm so sorry… this is all my fault. I deserve the blame.'

No one bought it. The attacks only grew harsher, some outright hurling insults.

'Quit whining and fishing for sympathy!'

'Exactly. Trash.'

Maisie added coolly, 'Yeah. Apologizing now won't help. Naomi, what do you think we should do?'

'You're right, Maisie. It's already too late, no matter what I tell you now,' I replied meekly.

Maisie froze and snapped her head up. "What do you mean?”

I looked up as well, meeting her suddenly widened eyes, my expression harmless as I answered, "Maisie, I forgot to tell you—only the top sheet that got wet was an exam admission slip. The rest underneath is just scrap paper. And unfortunately… the one that got soaked… was yours.”