As I walk down Limewater High's hallway, I feel every single person's eyes on me. Maybe it's paranoia... maybe not. I know Aria was never in the popular crowd, so being her in this situation made my brain feel weird. Is this what being shy feels like?

For everyone who knew the real Aria, she never tried at anything. She was sarcastic and didn't want to be in the popular crowd. She never went to football games, and her outfits looked like she just closed her eyes and put on the clothes at random. The only makeup she ever wore was mascara.

Although, everyone knows that if she had tried, she would be as pretty as me. She might even had been better. But no, Aria had the handful of friends she needed, and she liked being in the shadows.

So when I showed up dressed in Aria's Mom's nice clothes (She does have some good style, but I DO need to go shopping), hair in space buns, makeup on... let's just say everyone was shocked. I mean, Aria usually isn't this beautiful.

I don't know what I think I'm going to do. I have to have a plan how to get back up to the popular crowd, and I actually don't know how I'm going to get the friends that weren't in that crash up to the top with me. How to get them up without being in the perfection mold.

So, as I continue to walk down this hallway with all eyes on me (although, you get used to it), I make a plan. I will make it to where the popular need me. They all want the Aria me to take the place of the old me, Kaylee. I will make it to where they have to beg. And in front of a big crowd, I'll decline. I'll make a fool out of them, karma for sticking to my old me like leeches. Then, when they decide that the popular crowd is dead, I'll pop me and the others in. It'll work like magic!

I stop at my locker and put my Louis Vuitton backpack in and take out my Algebra 2 book. The movement is off, though, because the whole backpack comes off the hook and falls to the floor. "Dang it" I mutter under my breath.

"You dropped something." Mark is closer then I thought he was, so when I turn around our noses almost touch. I stumble back and end up tripping over the backpack and landing on my bottom.

Why am I so nervous around him?

He holds out his hand, "Here. Let me help you up." I don't take his offer, I just grab the locker door and pull myself up.

As I brush off my knee, I see I made one of the wholes in my pants bigger. Great, now they look of proportion. Ugh, I know Mark is supposed to be my friend, but he infuriates me. I don't even know why! 

He picks up my Vuitton and I take this opportunity to look him over. His hair is messy, unbrushed I would say. His under armor hoodie doesn't look like it fits right, and his sweatpants are stained. His eyes have dark rims that make him look older, and his eyes are lifeless. From Aria's memories, his eyes used to be wild, dark brown eyes with a hint of mischief. But now they look limp. Like a layer of depression has killed the mischief.

"Here. And a Louis Vuitton? I bit expensive for school if you ask me." He bites his lip and lowers his voice to a whisper "Listen. I need to talk to you. After school meet me at the coffee shop down the road. It's serious."

I turn my back to him, barely stopping the eye roll forcing its way to my eyes. "Maybe. I do have a life, you know. Just because I came back to life doesn't mean I'm wasting my second chance." And with that, I hang up my backpack with my stupid Algebra book in my arms and shove my way past him.

As the school bell rings, I go to the girls' locker room and change into my leggings and white crop top. Being 15 again means no license, no car. 

On the way home, I do have to pass the coffee shop. Should I go? It could actually be important, or it could be Mark grieving. I don't want to be the shoulder he cries on.

I step outside to the nice breeze of autumn. Unlike most people, I don't really get cold. I wear crop tops all through the year, maybe a light coat in winter. I take a deep breath in, letting the breeze enter my body, filling my lungs.

As I sigh I put in my wireless earbuds and begin to jog at the rhythm, letting the beat carry me home. It feels good to jog again, something I stopped doing in my past life as I got a car. I tie up my coal-black hair that I took down somewhere near lunch, only letting the bangs on my forehead hang loose. My ponytail swings back and forth, and I let myself break free from all my thoughts, break free from the stress. Right now it is just me and my music. 

As I turn the corner, I don't hear Mark call my name. I don't even realize I pass the coffee shop. I just continue with the beat, lip-syncing the words. I never did go to that coffee shop. I never turned around and went in for some coffee. Looking back on it, knowing all the truths I do now, I wish I did. But, stupid me, I never make the right choice.

In either life.