The apartment was exactly as young Aiden's memories had shown him, but seeing it with his own eyes was a strange experience. A modest one-bedroom on the third floor of a red brick building typical of Denver's suburbs. Not luxurious, but clean and functional.
Aiden pushed open the front door and was immediately struck by the smell. That particular mixture of mustiness and cheap lavender that young Aiden used to mask the absence of life within these walls. His fingers automatically found the light switch, memories guiding his gestures with disturbing precision.
The light revealed a spartan living room. An old brown fabric couch facing a television that had seen better days. A wobbly coffee table covered with school textbooks and half-finished homework. On the walls, a few family photos from before the tragedy - smiling parents with their adopted son, moments of happiness frozen in time.
Aiden approached one photo in particular. Michael and Laura Norask during a picnic in the park, little Aiden perched on his adoptive father's shoulders. They looked so... normal. So happy. Hard to believe that this perfect family had been destroyed by addicts in withdrawal.
- "They really loved you," he murmured, touching the frame.
The kitchen was tiny but functional. The refrigerator contained only a few leftovers and cheap prepared meals. Young Aiden wasn't exactly a cordon bleu, his memories confirmed it. Mainly sandwiches and instant noodles.
I'm going to have to improve in that area, Aiden thought with an ironic smile.
The bedroom was the young man's true sanctuary. Science fiction movie posters on the walls, shelves groaning under fantasy novels and comics. A desk cluttered with notebooks and pens, a laptop that had survived his parents. This was where the original Aiden had taken refuge after his parents' death, escaping into imaginary worlds to forget the harshness of reality.
The irony, Aiden mused as he sat on the bed. He dreamed of fantastic worlds, and now I actually have access to them.
He spent the rest of the evening truly exploring the apartment, rediscovering his adoptive parents' belongings that young Aiden had kept in boxes in the closet. Clothes, worthless jewelry, love letters between Michael and Laura. An entire life reduced to a few dusty boxes.
That night, Aiden slept better than he had since his reincarnation. The bed was comfortable, the apartment quiet, and for the first time, he truly felt at home somewhere.
The next morning, the alarm went off at 6:30 with the strident melody that young Aiden hated. But for Aiden, it was almost musical. He jumped up, full of energy and anticipation. His first real day of American high school!
The shower was pure pleasure. Hot water flowing over his body without the constant pain that had accompanied him in his last months of previous life. He dressed in clothes found in young Aiden's wardrobe: faded jeans, black t-shirt with a rock band logo he didn't recognize, and worn but still decent Converses.
The trip to Lincoln High School took him twenty minutes by bus. Denver was awakening around him, and Aiden observed with fascination this America he had only known through movies and series in his previous life. The wide avenues, the pickup trucks, the giant billboards - everything was exactly as he had imagined, yet different because it was real.
Lincoln High was a typical American suburban establishment. Red brick building, large parking lot filled with used cars driven by seniors, football field with its metal bleachers. Aiden smiled recognizing the setting of dozens of teen movies.
It was 7:45 when he pushed through the main doors. The hallways were already swarming with hurried, noisy, living teenagers. Lockers slamming, conversations mixing, teachers trying to maintain some semblance of order, the high school ecosystem in all its chaotic splendor.
- "AIDEN!"
The familiar voice made him turn around. Edmund Torres was heading toward him with a relieved smile. Ed was exactly like in the memories - tall, thin, messy black hair, slightly crooked glasses, and that slightly ironic smile that never left him. The kind of boy who was too intelligent to be popular but too nice to be completely rejected.
- "Dude, I thought you were going to miss your first day back," Ed said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "How do you feel? You look... different."
Already? Aiden shrugged casually.
- "A coma changes a man," he joked. "I had time to think about my life. To tell myself that maybe I'd wasted enough time brooding."
Ed observed him carefully, then nodded.
- "Cool. You needed a shock. Well, we have math first period with Mrs. Peterson. Do you remember the program?"
Aiden searched through the young man's memories and grimaced.
- "Vaguely. Quadratic equations, right?"
- "Exactly. And guess who's probably going to be called up to set an example for the others?"
- "Who?"
Ed discreetly pointed toward the end of the hallway. "The Ice Queen herself."
Aiden followed his gaze and felt his breath catch. Even in his fragmented memories, young Aiden had never really paid attention to girls. But this one...
Her name was Victoria Ashford, and she was indeed breathtakingly beautiful. Perfectly straightened platinum blonde hair, glacier-blue eyes, fine and aristocratic features. Tall, slender, with that perfect posture that screamed "I was raised in high society." She wore simple clothes - skinny jeans, white cashmere sweater, leather boots - but everything looked like it cost more than Aiden's monthly rent.
- "Ice Queen?" Aiden asked, though he already knew the answer from the memories.
- "Victoria Ashford. Rich family, genius IQ, and a personality as warm as an arctic glacier. She talks to no one, never smiles, and she makes all the teachers fall in love with her perfect answers."
Around Victoria gravitated a court of girls who were obviously trying to win her favor, and a few meters away, Aiden spotted the one who was probably the other legendary figure of the high school.
Tyler Brooks. Football team quarterback, captain of basketball and baseball teams, and incidentally the fantasy of half the girls in school. Tall, muscular, with that golden boy American smile and the natural confidence of people used to being admired.
- "And he's our future prom king," Ed murmured with a hint of irony. "Tyler Brooks. He's been trying to date Victoria since the beginning of the year."
- "Without success?"
- "Totally. She ignores him like she ignores everyone. But it makes him even more determined. You know how guys like him are, they can't stand when a girl resists them."
Aiden observed the dynamic with interest. Tyler was surrounded by his usual gang - other athletes, cheerleaders, and various members of the school's social elite. He spoke loudly, laughed boisterously, but his eyes kept returning to Victoria who acted as if he didn't exist.
-"And where are we in this hierarchy?" Aiden asked, though he knew the answer.
Ed snickered.
- "Us? We're the invisibles, dude. The harmless nerds. Smart enough for them to copy our homework, not cool enough to be invited to parties. The perfect comfort zone to observe without being bothered."
- "Doesn't that bother you?"
Ed shrugged.
- "Honestly? No. I don't want to play their games. And besides, look at them. Tyler and his gang spend more time worrying about their image than having a real conversation. Victoria might be gorgeous, but she seems about as fun as a quantum physics manual."
Aiden couldn't help but smile. Ed had that very adolescent way of rationalizing his social position, but he wasn't completely wrong. There was something profoundly false about this high school hierarchy, this obsession with arbitrary criteria of popularity.
Of course, easy to say when you have thirty-five years of experience in a sixteen-year-old body, he thought.
The bell rang, and the hallways emptied quickly. Ed and Aiden headed to their math classroom, continuing their conversation in low voices.
- "You know what amuses me most?" Ed said. "Tyler thinks he's going to succeed in making Victoria crack with his usual technique - charm, compliments, demonstration of masculine strength. But she's clearly not the type to fall for it."
- "Do you think she's dating someone?"
- "Total mystery. She doesn't talk to anyone about her private life. Rumor says she has a boyfriend at a private university, others say she's just focused on her studies to get into Harvard or Yale."
They settled into their usual seats - third row, window side. Perfect for observing without being too noticed. Mrs. Peterson, an energetic fifty-something with colorful glasses, entered a few minutes later with her usual pile of graded papers.
- "Good morning everyone! I hope you reviewed your quadratic equations, because we're starting practical exercises today."
Aiden felt the increased intelligence he had gained through his improvements kick in. Mathematical formulas that seemed obscure in young Aiden's memories now appeared crystal clear to him. He understood not only how to solve equations, but why they worked that way.
One of the unexpected advantages of being a Librarian, he thought with amusement.
As Ed predicted, Mrs. Peterson called Victoria to the board for the first exercise. The young woman rose gracefully and advanced with confident steps. She solved the complex equation in less than three minutes, explaining each step with perfect clarity.
- "Excellent, Victoria. As always," said Mrs. Peterson with admiration.
Victoria returned to her seat without a word, without a smile. Ed was right - she was impressive, but completely inaccessible.
The class continued, and Aiden participated more than he ever had before. When Mrs. Peterson asked a particularly difficult question and an awkward silence settled, he raised his hand.
- "Aiden?" said the teacher, surprised. "Do you think you have the answer?"
- "I can try."
He stood up and went to the board. The equation was indeed complex, a multi-variable problem that required combining several methods. But with his new intelligence, he could see the solution like a puzzle that just needed its pieces assembled.
He solved the problem methodically, explaining his reasoning. When he finished, an approving murmur ran through the class.
- "Impressive, Aiden," said Mrs. Peterson. "I didn't know you were so good at math."
- "Me neither," he muttered, returning to his seat.
Ed was looking at him with wide eyes.
- "Dude... since when are you capable of doing that?"
- "The coma, I told you. It made me think."
But what surprised Aiden most was that he had felt a gaze on him while he was at the board. Turning around discreetly, he briefly met Victoria Ashford's eyes. She was looking at him with something that resembled... curiosity?
The next instant, she had looked away, but Aiden was certain he hadn't imagined it.
Interesting, he thought.
The day continued at the same pace. American history, where Aiden surprised everyone by analyzing the Civil War with a perspective he had never shown before. English literature, where he proposed an interpretation of The Great Gatsby that made Mr. Williams raise his eyebrows.
At lunchtime, Ed and he settled at their usual table in a corner of the cafeteria.
- "Okay, we need to talk," Ed said, biting into his sandwich. "You're not the same guy as before your coma."
- "What do you mean?"
- "What do I mean? Aiden, you shined in three different classes this morning. Usually, you keep a low profile, you never answer questions, and your thing is more like daydreaming while looking out the window."
Aiden shrugged.
- "Maybe I decided to stop wasting my time."
- "Or maybe the coma made you grow up all at once," Ed said with a smile. "In any case, it's cool. You seem... more confident."
They continued eating while observing the other students. The cafeteria was a perfect microcosm of the school's social hierarchy. The athletes at their central tables, talking loudly and high-fiving each other. The cheerleaders nearby, chirping like exotic birds. The artists and musicians in their corner, passionately debating incomprehensible subjects. The "normal" students scattered everywhere, navigating between established groups.
And Victoria Ashford, alone at a small table near the windows, reading a book while nibbling on a salad.
-"Does she always eat alone?" Aiden asked.
Ed followed his gaze.
- "Always. Sometimes other girls try to sit with her, but she responds in monosyllables until they give up."
- "That's sad."
- "Or maybe she prefers it that way. Not everyone needs to be social, you know."
At that moment, Tyler Brooks passed near their table with his friends. He stopped near Victoria, leaning toward her with his most charming smile.
- "Hey Victoria, we're organizing a party Saturday at my place. My parents are on a business trip. You should come."
Victoria looked up from her book - a tome on behavioral economics, Aiden noted with surprise - and looked at Tyler with a perfectly neutral expression.
- "No thank you."
- "Come on, it'll be fun. The whole team will be there, the cheerleaders, music..."
- "I said no."
The tone was firm, final. Tyler insisted for a few more seconds, but faced with Victoria's polite but icy indifference, he finally gave up and rejoined his table with his friends.
- "Strike three thousand," Ed murmured. "That guy never gives up."
Aiden observed the scene with interest. There was something fascinating about this dynamic. Tyler, used to getting everything he wanted through his charisma and social status, faced with someone who was completely immune to that type of influence.
- "Do you think she really has a boyfriend?" he asked.
- "No idea. Why, are you planning to try your luck?"
Ed was laughing, but Aiden didn't answer right away. He continued observing Victoria, who had resumed her reading as if nothing had happened. There was something in her attitude that reminded him of... himself. That way of protecting oneself from the outside world, of keeping one's distance.
- "No," he said finally. "Just curious."