Part 1She Planned a Prank Heist, I Called 911

On the third day after receiving our college acceptance letters, the most popular student in school, Natalie Simmons, proposes something in our class group chat.

"We're all adults now, and we've already been accepted into college. We should do something exciting before the semester begins. Let's put on a show and stage a fake bank heist. It'll be fun."

In my last life, I make 23 phone calls in a row and confiscate every prop they plan to use. No one gets hurt.

But Natalie becomes the target of criticism from parents and teachers. She sinks into depression and eventually jumps into a lake.

The entire class blames me and hates me. At our graduation dinner, they force a whole bottle of liquor down my throat. Then, they say they're taking me to the riverside to sober up.

When I wake up, I'm in the river. Water fills my lungs, freezing cold.

The news report summed up my life in five words. "Drunk Man Falls Into River."

When I open my eyes again, my phone is vibrating. The very first message in the group chat is Natalie's proposal.

This time, I don't say anything. I take screenshots and save copies.

* * *

This time, I didn't interfere.

The class group chat exploded. After Natalie Simmons sent the PDF file, the chat filled with excitement.

"Holy crap! It's finally here. I've been dying of boredom this summer."

"We've already got our college acceptance letters. What can they do, kick us out?"

"This is way more exciting than an amusement park."

"Natalie, have you secretly been studying criminal psychology or something? This is hilarious."

"With 23 water guns pointed at them, the bank tellers will probably drop to their knees."

"I'm already laughing just imagining it. Anyone else?"

The messages popped up so fast that the screen was practically jumping.

I typed into the chat, "Count me out. A bank is a financial institution, not an entertainment center. Entering while wearing masks and carrying realistic-looking weapons can be considered a threat to public safety.

"Having an acceptance letter doesn't mean a university can't hold you accountable. Admissions can be reviewed if a student commits an offense before enrollment. Please don't include me in the participant list."

The chat went silent for about three seconds. Then, it became even noisier than before.

"Ethan Brooks, are you okay? You've already been accepted into college. Why are you still acting like a teacher's pet?"

"This is our last chance to do something together before graduating. Are you really going to say no?"

"Does he really think colleges will monitor what we do during our summer break? What a joke."

Others chimed in.

"Ethan is always the party pooper."

"What is he afraid of—getting scolded by a bank teller?"

"We're about to start college and he's still such a wuss. How is he going to survive in the real world?"

Then, Ryan Carter sent me a private message.

"Bro, your spot in college is already secure. What are you so afraid of? It's just 30 seconds, tops. After we get it done, dinner is on me. Natalie said this is the last crazy thing we'll ever do. We've been friends since we were kids. Do me a favor and stop raining on everyone's parade, alright?"

I didn't reply. Instead, I typed another message in the group. "I'm not participating. I won't be anywhere near the bank. Nobody gets to make that decision for me."

The chat quieted for a few seconds.

Then, Natalie replied, "Ethan, your college acceptance letter isn't going anywhere. When are you planning to start living your life?"

I stared at the words "living your life" and nearly laughed.

In my last life, I had thought that stopping them was the right thing to do. But in the end, did I get to live my life?

Ryan sent me another private message. "The list already includes the whole class. Don't make yourself the exception."

Then, Natalie posted a name list. There were 23 names on it, and mine was first.

"Ethan Brooks: Team leader, responsible for shouting the first cue."

I stared at that row of words, my grip tightening around my phone.

"Remove my name."

Natalie replied with a sad-face emoji and said, "Don't be like that. I already got a mask and water gun for you. This is the last time we'll all get to have fun together. Do you have to make things so awkward?"

"Yeah. The class shirts have already been printed. The class president can't just back out."

"Are you going to reimburse everyone for the shirts?"

He's just putting on an act. Let's just drag him to the bank later. Once the mask is on, where can he run?"

Another private message from Ryan arrived. "After all these years, you don't even trust me? If you don't show up on Friday, I'll come knock on your door myself."

The group chat began flooding with my name, over and over.

"Ethan, make a statement."

"Don't chicken out."

"Don't be difficult."

"You must come."

"You have to yell the cue."

My phone vibrated constantly until my palm went numb.

Then, Tina Young sent me a private message. "Ethan, everyone's really excited about this. Don't be the bad guy. Natalie has been staying up all night for days working on this plan. If you don't do it, she'll be really sad."

I looked at the words "bad guy" and felt my stomach turn.

In my previous life, I had been afraid of hurting Natalie's feelings and that someone would get hurt. That was why I called every parent, one by one.

And what did I get in return? They killed me.