Hadley Jamison doesn't know what to think when she hears that her classmate, Archer Morales, committed suicide. She didn't exactly know him, but that doesn't stop her from feeling like there was something she could have done to help him. So to Hadley's surprise, on the very night of Archer's funeral, she has a run in with Death himself and is offered the chance to go back in time to stop Archer from ending his life. The catch? She only has twenty-seven days to do it. And if Hadley doesn't succeed? Well, she doesn't want to think about that.

A/N: This is an unedited, significantly different version of the soon to be published novel by losangelesque aka L. Akhter. This draft was written when I was 15-18 years old and I highly encourage new readers to read the published version instead. Former high school football star Frank Novak meets profound and depressed loner Lolita Abri - and falls headfirst into love. Throughout the course of one school year, they unravel each other and their sadness, setting apart their differences and realizing that sometimes love isn't enough - and sometimes it just might be. [FIRST DRAFT] Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXTbhopy9ts © All Rights Reserved. Teen Fic #7 A Wattpad Featured story

"This is a truly special book, one that captured my heart from the very first line...THE ASTONISHING THING feels like a bit of a miracle and we all could use a miracle." --Holly Chamberlin, author of Seashell Season and Summer With My Sisters

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.

Charlie doesn't speak, so he paints.