Caffeine, Karma, and My Second Life

On the morning of the National Finals, our Academic Rep, Chloe, kicked open the classroom door, dragging two massive crates of Red Bull and instant espresso packets. She ordered everyone to mix their own lethal cocktail. "TikTok says this concoction unlocks maximum brainpower!" she announced proudly. "Drink up, guys, and we’ll all crush the exam!" In my past life, as Class President, I leaped out of my seat to stop everyone. I pulled up medical studies on my phone, warning them that mixing high doses of energy drinks and caffeine powder would cause extreme palpitations, uncontrollable hand tremors, and cardiac arrhythmia. The whole class listened to me. Not a single person took a sip. Then Chloe bombed her exam. She scored eighty points below her practice tests. She pointed a finger at me, sobbing uncontrollably. "So many people online said it gave them straight A’s! You sabotaged me on purpose, didn't you?!" Her friends joined in, relentlessly bullying me online and offline. When Chloe jumped from the roof that summer, her suicide note read that I had ruined her life. From that day on, everyone labeled me a murderer. Driven to the brink by relentless harassment and guilt, I threw myself off the 28th-floor balcony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the Finals. Chloe was once again handing out Red Bull and espresso packets—this time, double the supply from my past life. When she reached my desk, she smirked at me. "Oh, our resident medical expert shouldn’t touch this. If your precious hands start shaking, I can't afford to take the blame." I froze for a split second. She was reborn, too. She remembered me stopping her in our past life. So this time, she doubled down on the dosage to share it with everyone—deliberately leaving me out. I quietly leaned back in my chair. This time, I just wanted to see if she’d still be smiling when the paramedics wheeled their stretchers straight into the testing hall. Once Chloe finished handing out the cans, my deskmate, Harper, leaned over and whispered, "Why aren't you drinking any?" I shook my head. "Feeling a bit off today. Don't want it." Harper hesitated, holding a paper cup. She glanced at me, then down at the murky brown sludge of Red Bull mixed with concentrated coffee powder. "Should... should I drink it?" Her voice was barely a murmur, filled with anxious uncertainty. I looked at her. In my past life, Harper also bombed the exam, dropping sixty points below her average. Later, she had joined Chloe's clique in tormenting me, calling me a selfish hypocrite who held everyone back because I was too scared to take a risk myself. I didn't try to persuade her. Nor did I encourage her. In this life, I was done playing savior to anyone. "That's completely up to you," I said evenly. Harper bit her lip. She set the cup down on her desk, untouched. Chloe strutted over with a brimming cup in her hand. Seeing Harper’s full cup, she arched an eyebrow. "Harper, why aren't you drinking?" Harper swallowed nervously. "I... I just want to wait a bit." Chloe shot me a sidelong glare and sneered. "Don't let certain people get in your head. Some folks just hate seeing others succeed." I said nothing. Chloe went on, her voice projecting across the room. "Over ninety percent of students who tried this hack over the last few years totally outperformed their usual scores. Your brain fires on all cylinders. Questions you couldn't solve before suddenly just click." A few nearby classmates heard her, immediately lifting their cups to take big gulps. "You don't want to miss an opportunity like this," Chloe added, letting her eyes drift back to me with a smug undertone. "Unlike someone here who thinks she’s a genius and is terrified of anyone taking her spot, so she tries to drag everyone down." Harper instinctively glanced at me. I flipped open my literature notes with an expressionless face, not offering a single syllable in response. Seeing that I wouldn't take the bait, Chloe scoffed and walked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her return to her seat. She picked up a massive sports bottle and chugged several huge mouthfuls. That bottle held at least 800 milliliters. I remembered in our previous life, she had only brought six cans of Red Bull and a single bag of coffee powder, dividing small sips among the class. This time, she brought two giant cases, plus industrial-sized tubs of powder. And she had downed the lion’s share herself. Her physical crash would hit faster, harder, and far more violently than anyone else's. I pulled my gaze back and kept reviewing my notes. A weird tension settled over the room. Most students had chugged their cups. A few were on the fence, but seeing their peers drinking, they gave in to peer pressure and followed suit. At seven-forty, our homeroom teacher, Ms. Miller, pushed the door open. The room fell dead silent. Ms. Miller glanced around, and her face instantly darkened. Empty Red Bull cans were littered across desks and rolling on the floor. Torn coffee wrappers were scattered by the podium. The air reeked of cheap taurine and overpowering artificial espresso. "Who told you to bring this junk in here?" Ms. Miller’s voice turned icy. Nobody dared to breathe. She marched over to a desk, snatched up an empty can, and raised her voice an octave higher. "How many times did I warn you never to touch unregulated energy drinks before the Finals? Did my words go in one ear and out the other?" Chloe stood up, chin held high. "Ms. Miller, I brought them. We’re just drinking water and getting an energy boost. Do you really have to micromanage that?"Ms. Miller choked on her words, her face turning pale with anger. "This exam decides your entire future! Your body is your own responsibility. If something goes wrong, who’s going to answer for it?" "What could possibly go wrong?" Chloe laughed lightly, looking around the room. "Right, guys? It's just Red Bull to wake us up. It’s not poison." A chorus of murmured agreements echoed from several students, all rallying behind Chloe. Ms. Miller looked at the sea of crushed cans, took a deep breath, and forced down her anger. "Fine. It's your exam and your future anyway." She slammed the stack of test admissions badges onto the podium. "I’ll call names. Come up one by one." After distributing the badges and listing the final testing regulations, Ms. Miller spun on her heel and stormed out. The classroom lingered in silence for a few seconds. Then, Chloe stood up and walked directly over to my desk. Looking down at me from above, the corners of her mouth curved into a mocking smile. "Avery, you’re still the same petty snitch, aren't you? Always running to the teacher." I didn't respond. Hostile glares from several classmates quickly locked onto me. "You really think sabotaging everyone will guarantee you the top score?" Chloe kept her voice low but clear enough for the front rows to hear. "Selfish is selfish. Stop pretending you give a damn about anyone else." Someone scoffed from the back. "Seriously. So fake." I met Chloe’s gaze and kept my tone deadpan. "I didn't say a word. You left empty cans all over your desks. Do you think the teacher is blind?" Chloe's smirk faltered. Without giving her another look, I zipped up my clear pencil case, slipped my exam badge into my pocket, and stood up to leave. Harper called out softly from behind. "Avery..." I didn't turn back. Outside the academic building, the courtyard was flooded with students, huddled in small groups. The morning sun was climbing, casting a soft, deceitful warmth across the campus. At the main testing facility, I checked the bulletin board for my assigned room. Fourth floor, Hall 7. Just as I took my first step up the stairs, a familiar voice called out. "Avery." I turned around. Chloe was standing two steps behind me, waving her clear badge holder with an arrogant grin. "Looks like we’re in the exact same room." She smiled broadly. "I'm definitely scoring higher than you this time." I didn't take the bait. Her grades had always hovered just above average. At the end of junior year, she wasn’t even in the top hundred. It was me who tutored her for an entire semester, dragging her math score from a failing C to an A-minus, and pushing her English from mediocre to honors level, barely getting her across the threshold for top-tier colleges. After that, she told everyone she turned her life around through pure grit and raw talent. She never mentioned my name once. I hadn't cared back then. Yet here she stood, glaring at me with raw venom, as if I were her sworn enemy in this world. "Let’s just get inside," I said flatly, turning to head upstairs. The fourth-floor corridor was packed with nervous students. Someone spotted Chloe, and a girl jogged over, eagerly looping an arm around Chloe's elbow. "Chloe! You’re in Hall 7 too? Thank god!" I recognized her as Brianna from the next class over. She had average grades and spent all her time sucking up to Chloe. Chloe patted Brianna's hand, smiling. "Yeah, what a coincidence." Brianna leaned in close. "I'm so glad you brought those energy drinks. I was so freaking nervous this morning, but I feel amazing now. My head feels crazy clear." Chloe shot me a smug look, raising her voice on purpose. "Of course! When I find a real hack, I share it with real friends. Unlike some people who secretly pray for everyone to crash and burn."Brianna followed Chloe's gaze, looking me up and down with curled lips. "Right? And she’s supposed to be our Class President. Hoarding every advantage for herself... disgusting." Chloe chuckled softly. "Don't be so harsh." The two giggled in the hallway—not loudly, but every word dripped with condescension. I leaned against the railing, flipping through my literature flashcards, reciting quotes and rhetorical formulas in my head. I couldn't be bothered to waste breath on them. Seeing me ignore her, Chloe took two steps closer, dropping the fake sweetness. "What's wrong, Avery? Cat got your tongue? Feeling guilty? Or are you scared I’m about to blow you out of the water?" She smirked. "If you're begging for a sip, I guess I could spare you a drop or two." I snapped my flashcards shut and looked up at her calmly. "If you two want to chat, take it somewhere else. I’m busy reviewing." Chloe’s expression turned sour. She opened her mouth to snap back, but the proctor stepped out of the hall, speaking in a firm, authoritative tone: "Doors are opening. Keep the noise down. Do not disturb other candidates." Chloe and Brianna exchanged annoyed glances and shut their mouths. I reopened my cards, moving on to the next set of formulas. At eight-twenty, the entrance bell rang. Metal detector checks, ID verification, seating assignments. My desk was by the window in row three. Chloe sat dead center in row two, right in front of me. Brianna was tucked away in row five. I set down my pencil case, laid my ID badge on the top right corner, took a deep, steadying breath, and closed my eyes. When the proctors handed out the Literature exam booklets, my heart gave a slight flutter. I cracked open the cover. The first analytical passage... I remembered it. The historical synthesis prompt... I remembered it. Every single question, every line of text—it was burned into my memory. In my previous life, I had slipped up on this exact test. I misread the thematic essay prompt and barely scraped an average score on the verbal section. I wouldn't make that mistake again. Gripping my pen, I began working methodically from the very first question, filling out the bubbles with icy precision. Halfway through the testing block, I heard a restless rustling coming from row two. I glanced up. Chloe was squirming in her seat, one arm wrapped tightly around her stomach, her face chalk-white. The proctor noticed the movement, walked over, and leaned down to whisper a question. Chloe shook her head violently, her lips trembling as she muttered something—likely insisting she was fine and could push through. The proctor hesitated, then walked back to the podium. But Chloe was deteriorating fast. Her entire body began to shake visibly. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead like rain, and the hand clutching her pen was trembling so hard that her handwriting turned into jagged, illegible scrawls. Back in row five, Brianna wasn't doing any better. Her chair creaked relentlessly as she shifted back and forth, her breathing growing ragged and heavy. The proctor marched back down the aisle, her voice louder this time. "Miss, are you okay?" Chloe tried to speak. Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out—her vocal cords seemed locked in a spasm. Then, her eyes rolled back, and she slumped sideways, sliding off her chair entirely.CRASH! The desk and chair clattered against the floor with a deafening bang. Every head in the testing room snapped up. The proctor’s face blanched. She lunged forward to catch her, while the second proctor sprinted down from the podium—one kneeling beside Chloe, the other flinging the door open to scream for medical backup. When they hoisted Chloe up, her lips had turned an alarming shade of deep purple. Drenched in cold sweat, her eyes fluttered halfway open, completely incapable of forming coherent sounds. Back in row five, Brianna couldn't hold it together either. She collapsed forward onto her desk, burying her face in her arms, her chest heaving with violent dry sobs. Within seconds, test coordinators and emergency staff rushed in. Two adults hoisted Chloe out by her arms, while another staff member helped a staggering, shaking Brianna down the hall. I kept my head down, my pen never stopping. At eleven-thirty, the bell signaled the end of the Literature section. I submitted my booklet, grabbed my pencil case, and walked out into the corridor. A crowd had already formed outside, buzzing with frantic whispers. "Did you see that girl in row two? She literally passed out cold! Her lips were blue!" "I heard she drank something crazy before the test. Chugged a ton of Red Bull." "I saw it! She brought two whole crates into homeroom!" I walked downstairs. As I passed the ground-floor clinic, the doors were flung wide open, packed with teachers, test monitors, and school nurses in white coats. Chloe was lying on a cot, deathly pale, hooked up to an IV drip. Her eyes were squeezed shut, blood crusted on her cracked lips where she’d bitten through them. In the adjacent cot lay Brianna, looking just as ghostly. A nurse was wrapping a blood pressure cuff around her trembling arm. Our homeroom teacher, Ms. Miller, stood at the foot of the bed, her face paler than the patients'. The school doctor jotted notes on a medical chart, his voice carrying clearly into the hall. "Classic acute caffeine toxicity. Severe tachycardia, tremors, cardiac arrhythmia. In severe cases, it leads to cardiovascular collapse and shock. Exactly how much of that poison did your students ingest?" Ms. Miller’s voice shook. "She... she brought twenty cans of energy drinks and a giant tub of concentrated espresso powder." The doctor’s pen froze. He glanced sharply at Chloe, then back at Ms. Miller. "Twenty cans? How much did she drink by herself?" "I don't know for sure, but there were fifteen or sixteen empty cans left near her desk." The doctor exhaled heavily, shaking his head without another word, scribbling furiously on the chart. Ms. Miller pulled out her phone, dialing frantically. "Yes, Mrs. Davis, you need to get to the school immediately. The nurse says she might need an ambulance... Her condition is critical, her resting heart rate is over a hundred and forty..." Whatever the parent said on the other end, Ms. Miller just hung up, looking hollowed out and completely defeated. Just then, Chloe’s eyelids fluttered open. "Ms. Miller..." she croaked weakly. "I have to... I have to take the math exam this afternoon..." Ms. Miller stared at her, eyes welling with tears, unable to find the words. The doctor stepped in, his tone blunt and unyielding. "You are not sitting for any exam this afternoon. Your heart rate is dangerously erratic. You could collapse again at any second." Panic flared in Chloe's eyes. She tried to push herself up, but her arms gave out instantly, the IV line swinging violently. "No! I have to take it! I studied for so long..." The doctor firmly pushed her back down by the shoulders. "Listen to me, young lady. What matters more right now—an exam, or your life?"