Rewrite the Stars

In my last life, I was the pathetic girl who followed the golden boy around like a stray dog. The day I died in a sterile hospital room from terminal cancer, he was busy having the "Wedding of the Century" with his high school sweetheart. Given a second chance at life, I’m back at the very moment I was supposed to confess to him. Under the watchful eyes of the entire cafeteria, I marched past the golden boy and slammed my love letter onto the desk of the school’s most notorious rebel. The silver-haired delinquent blinked awake from his nap, staring at the envelope covered in hand-drawn hearts. "What’s this?" Me: "For you. Scratch paper."