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The soft caress of the morning breeze gently ruffled my bangs as I settled into my seat, the passage of time a relentless force evident in yet another morning class. My attention drifted, only, half-listening to Mrs. Gomez's instructions. She stood at the front of the classroom, her voice a steady rhythm in the background noise of shuffling papers and whispered conversations.
"Group yourselves into teams of five," Mrs. Gomez reiterated, her patience strained by the lack of attention from certain classmates, Gerald being a prime example.
Boys being boys, I thought, either not fully engaged or simply relishing the opportunity to repeat instructions for their own amusement. It was a scene I never imagined experiencing again, yet here I was, a silent observer amidst the familiar chaos of my former school days.
In novels and manga, reincarnated characters often recall every detail of their past lives, but for me, such clarity remained elusive. I couldn't summon every memory, especially from my junior high days, but certain moments lingered, etched in my mind like faint whispers of a forgotten melody.
"Alexa," a voice murmured beside me, and I turned to see Liandra leaning closer, her chair scraping against the floor.
"Hmm," I acknowledged, my attention divided between her and Mrs. Gomez collecting papers from students, each one bearing the names of their chosen group members.
"We're going to be in the same group," Liandra announced with a giggle, her declaration leaving no room for objections.
"Hmm," I murmured again, returning my focus to the front of the classroom where Mira stood amidst the crowd, her presence commanded attention effortlessly.
Tall and statuesque, her sun-kissed complexion accentuated by the depth of her brown eyes. A refined nose complemented her darker locks, each strand coiled delicately at its end.
While her demeanor hinted at a subtle flirtation, I couldn't ignore her undeniable allure. It was this very magnetism that had once ensnared Jacob in a past life. But her flirtations, I noticed, were reserved solely for him.
Despite the attention she garnered from other boys, she remained steadfast in her focus on Jacob. It became clear to me that her affection for him ran deep, transcending mere flirtation.
Initially, I believed her reluctance to enter into a relationship stemmed from a lack of readiness. However, as time passed, I unearthed the truth - Mira harbored feelings for someone unattainable, much like the boys who pursued her.
Jacob's heart belonged to Liandra, of that there was no doubt. Yet, he proved susceptible to temptation, a weakness inherent in us all - the allure of lust.
In my understanding, true love forbids the infliction of pain, the shattering of trust, or the betrayal of one's beloved. Love and lust, though oftentimes entwined, remain distinct. To love someone for their external beauty or societal status is not love but a shallow imitation.
Love, I've come to realize, is akin to a blossoming flower - an inexplicable feeling that defies rational explanation.
Lost in my musings, I was jolted back to reality by Mrs. Gomez's voice.
"Class, tomorrow will be dedicated to elections, including the selection of our class president. You all know each other well, having been past classmates, so choose wisely," Mrs. Gomez announced, her gaze lingering briefly on me.
"Yes, Mrs. Gomez," echoed some of my classmates, while others simply nodded in agreement.
Satisfied with our response, Mrs. Gomez dismissed the class, bringing an end to the day's lessons.
The classroom slowly emptied, leaving behind the faint echo of shuffling feet and whispered conversations. Rising from my seat, I found Liandra at my side, her vibrant energy pulling me back from my thoughts. With a mischievous grin, she hooked her arm through mine, her touch grounding me in the present moment.
Mira joined our small group, her knowing gaze acknowledging the silent exchange between Liandra and me. There was something eerie in the depth of her brown eyes, a silent understanding that spoke volumes.
As we navigated the halls toward the locker room, I felt the weight of gazes settling on me like a familiar cloak. Surrounded by an intimate aura, I carried myself with a quiet confidence. My straight black hair flowed sleekly over my shoulders, framing features that held an air of mystery. Dark blue-green eyes, accented by thick lashes, hinted at depths of secrets beneath the surface. And my mestiza skin, softly aglow under the fluorescent lights, only added to the enigma that seemed to draw others in.
It was a reality I had grown accustomed to - the unspoken fascination that followed me wherever I went. People watched me like an open book, their curiosity sparked by the aura of mystery I exuded. Yet, I remained untouched by their scrutiny, a master of indifference in a world of fleeting glances and whispered speculations.
Stepping into the locker room, the atmosphere shifted, mingling with the rustle of clothing and the clatter of locker doors. As I changed into my PE uniform, the sensation of being watched persisted, an invisible weight pressing down on me.
Leaving the locker room, I strode forward with my steps echoing with a quiet resolve, refused to buckle under the pressure, maintaining an air of composed indifference in the face of relentless observation.
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Reborn Alexa
RomanceShattered by the weight of her failures and the betrayal of those she loved, Alexa Del Real chooses to end her life, only to awaken in her teenage years, where she is given a second chance to rewrite her life's story. Determined to pursue her dreams...