After finally leaving school, I spotted my mother waiting to pick me up. Something about the scene hit me with a wave of nostalgia so strong it made my throat tighten. Even though I was back in the past, just seeing her again like this—smiling, waiting by the school gate—was enough to make my heart ache. I was technically thirty-four years old, but now, in this body, I was fourteen again. And it felt real.
I got into the car silently. The ride home passed in a blur.
At home, I took a long shower. The water helped a little, grounding me, but my thoughts kept drifting between timelines—my past and my future. Strangely, not much had changed. Though I'd once lived abroad in a place where everything was fast and alien, the exhaustion of daily life was the same. I used to work till 9 p.m., but at least I didn't have to study. I hated studying. I mean, who doesn't?
After drying off, I sat on my bed. My mother brought lunch into the room like she always used to, and for a moment, I just stared at the plate. Familiar flavors. Familiar setting. But I had done nothing—not a single thing—to find out why I had been sent here. Why I was back.
I sighed, guilt pricking at the edge of my chest.
Then a thought struck me.
I grabbed my phone and called Rachel.
She picked up after a few rings. "Hello? Why'd you call?" she asked, her voice lazy.
"Dude," I said quickly, "you seriously don't know a guy named Raven?"
There was a pause. "I really don't," she answered. "But... the name sounds familiar? I don't know. Send a profile or something."
"I don't have one," I admitted. "That's why I'm asking you. But is there anyone who hates you a lot?"
"Huh?" Her voice turned sharper. "How would I know? Maybe you guys hate me too."
I rolled my eyes. "Geez, no. I'm serious. Then... who do you hate the most?"
There was another pause, longer this time. Then she sighed. "Don't act like you don't know."
"Tell me anyway," I urged.
She finally said it. "Melanie and Abbey."
Of course.
The names hit me with a weight I wasn't prepared for. We had history—long history—with them. Melanie had been my childhood friend since kindergarten. Abbey had been close with Rachel. Then Abbey broke things off with Rachel over some stupid drama. Somehow, Rachel and Melanie ended up best friends—which I hated.
Whenever they sat together, I used to squeeze myself between them like a nosy bridge. Truth is, I was the odd one out. They shared jokes, memories, moments I never understood. I must've looked so desperate—forcing myself into places I didn't belong.
And then, something changed. Melanie started ignoring both Rachel and me. Rachel turned to me, the one person she used to hate, and said, "Wanna be friends?" I said yes, reluctantly. I didn't like her. But I agreed.
Then came the worst part.
I had a class with Melanie afterward. I talked to her. And to my surprise, she talked back. I betrayed Rachel. I told Melanie everything—everything Rachel had ever said or done. Abbey sat beside us, encouraging me. "You should say it," she whispered. "I know what Rachel did to me."
Scared and unsure, I gave in. I told them Rachel was fake, manipulative. I even added lies. We laughed. We became best friends.
And I hated myself for it.
Snapping back to the present, I realized Rachel was still on the line.
"No one else?" I asked quietly.
"No," she replied.
I hung up.
I wish I could go back to that time.I wouldn't have betrayed Rachel.I wouldn't have opened my mouth just to hurt someone who trusted me.
The guilt pressed heavy on my chest, a weight I had been carrying for far too long. I laid flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling with tear-blurred vision. My heart ached—not just for Rachel, but for the version of myself I used to be. The one who made all the wrong choices, then tried to bury them.
I didn't know when my eyes finally closed or when sleep came for me. All I knew was darkness.
Then—I woke up.
I was back. Sitting upright in bed, just like before. My tablet in my hands. On the screen, Rachel's friend request hovered in the air, waiting for my finger to decide her fate.
What...?
I blinked, stunned.
The calendar app was open on the screen. The date—the same date I had traveled to earlier—was still selected.
My breath caught in my throat.
No way.
Heart racing, I touched a different date. One from the future. From a time when I was in college abroad, years past the nightmare with Rachel and Melanie and Abbey.
The screen glitched. The world around me blurred. And then—A flash of white.
When the light faded, I was no longer in my room.
I stood in the hallway of my college dorm, wearing the same outfit I had on back then. The same backpack. The same ID card swinging from my lanyard.
It worked.
My theory was right.
I wasn't dreaming.I could really jump through time.
My college friend waved at me from across the hallway, grinning and shouting something casual—probably an inside joke or a class reminder. I stared blankly, still in disbelief. It felt surreal. Like a half-formed dream I hadn't woken up from yet.
How was this possible?Was I playing with time… or was time playing with me?
I had thought that date—the one I tapped on the calendar—was somehow special. A clue. A turning point. But maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just an ordinary day… tainted only by my mistake.
Thank God for that.
Just then, a hand landed gently on my shoulder, snapping me back to reality.
"Won't you go to class?" my friend asked with a curious smile.
I nodded, forcing a small smile back.
"Do you have anything after this?" they asked again.
I didn't know how to respond. How could I explain I had just time-traveled from my teenage years, and now I was standing in a hallway in my future college? So I shook my head. "No… nothing."
They looked concerned. "You okay?"
Another nod. "Yeah. Just tired."
We walked together, and soon I was seated in a cybersecurity lecture. I rested my head on the desk, hoping sleep would take me again, pull me back to the other timeline. I was already starting to piece together how it worked—sleep was the key. Sleep was the station.
But then—"Raven. It won't be like that," the professor's voice cut through the hum of the classroom.
My head jerked up.
Raven?
I turned my eyes toward the student the professor was addressing.
Was it him? Raven Blaine?
The name echoed in my mind like a broken record.
What would he be doing here? Could it be Rachel's future husband? The same guy she would marry just two years from now? That was the name I saw on the case file..
But... he didn't look older than the rest of us. He looked normal—just a regular college student. I stared at him, trying to remember if I had ever seen him before in my present timeline.
Then another thought hit me like ice:When Rachel died… he wasn't there.Not at the hospital.
Wouldn't a husband show up if his wife died?
Now it felt even weirder.
I watched him through the whole class. He didn't say much. Just a few words here and there, nodding at the lecture, sometimes doodling in his notebook.
And I realized—I had never paid attention to him before. Even though we were in the same college.
How had I missed him?
___