Bike to school (M)

"Whatever, at least I’m up," you retort, snagging a piece of toast from the toaster that your sister had generously left for you. You don’t bother sitting down, opting instead to head straight for the door, grabbing your helmet on the way out.

"See you at school," you call over your shoulder, your voice half-hearted as you unlock your bike. Mounting your bike, you start pedaling toward school, passing the bus stop without a second glance. You ride on autopilot, savoring the crisp morning air and the easy rhythm of the road—until you hit the hills. No matter how often you tackle them, they always leave you winded. You’re convinced God put these hills here just to mess with you, a divine joke at your expense. Not that you’ve seen Him since your little encounter between lives, though He’s supposedly around here somewhere. After all, you did wish for it.

As you finally approach the school, out of breath and sweaty, a girl pedals past you effortlessly. You’ve never seen her before, so you assume she’s a year or two below you. Her long blonde hair streams behind her as she speeds along, with streaks of red interwoven through the gold. At a glance, you’d guess she’s about 5’2”, and there’s no denying she has a toned, perfect figure. You hope she didn’t notice how out of shape you were, because maybe—just maybe—you could have a chance with her someday. If you’re brave enough, you might even talk to her now, as long as you keep your distance so she doesn’t notice the sweat.

But as quickly as she appeared, she’s gone. You continue on your way, convinced you’ll never see her again anyway. You pull into the school parking lot and dismount your bike at the rack. After locking it up, you head inside, joining the sea of students flowing through the hallway. Like every other day, you make your way to the locker pods, where a brown-haired guy who looks just as much of a virgin as you are waves in your direction.

"Yo, John, how’s it going, man?" your friend Aaron calls out.

"Oh, not much. Same boring ride to school," you reply with a laugh, fist-bumping him.

In this life, you’ve made a real effort to make friends. Even so, Aaron and a girl named Jenna are pretty much your only close friends. Aaron’s been by your side ever since he moved here in third grade. If it weren’t for him, his tough-as-nails military dad, and Anna, you might not have survived the “brutal” bullying of elementary school. And without Aaron, you probably wouldn’t have survived that first day of middle school when Anna walked past your lunch table to sit with her new cheerleader friends she met over the summer.

"You know, if you took the bus to school, you could sleep in instead of showing up all sweaty, right?" Aaron teases. "And if the bus is full like today, you might even get to sit next to cuties like Anna."

Anna was your elementary school crush... and your middle school crush... and, well, your high school crush too. She was cute, kind, and most importantly, she didn’t give you disgusted looks when paired with you for group projects. She also lived next door, so you two were basically **** to play together as kids. In your mind, she was the perfect childhood friend. But none of that matters now—she’s been dating the same jock, Kyle, since ninth grade. You’re just happy a cheerleader even bothers to acknowledge your existence, much less invite you over to work on PowerPoint slides.

You stroll through the bustling high school halls, your mind swirling with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The familiar scent of cheap cologne, cafeteria food, and textbooks hits you like a wave, pulling you back into the rhythm of teenage life. This time, though, it feels different—sharper, more intense. Maybe it’s because you’ve been here before, or maybe it’s because you’re hyper-aware that today marks the true start of your second chance. Either way, you’re not going to waste it.

As you pass by groups of chatting students, you can’t help but notice how much more confident you feel this time around. Your previous life’s experiences have armed you with a sense of purpose, a clarity that you lacked before. You’re not just some awkward kid anymore; you’re someone with a mission.