Erased by Fate: Rebelling Against the System

The day I was supposed to confess to my crush, I found out I was just cannon fodder in a novel. The System popped up out of nowhere to tell me the guy standing right in front of me was the male lead.

The main plot was about to kick off. The real female lead was about to make her grand entrance.

Fate had decided I was nothing but an extra.

My rebellious streak flared.

Before anyone could react, I planted a loud, sloppy kiss right on his cheek.

Both The System and the male lead froze.

Chapter 1

I was going to confess my feelings to Nolan.

We stood next to the tree at the end of the alley. I scrambled for a topic. "Look at these candied apple blossoms. They're blooming beautifully."

Nolan looked down at me. His jawline was sharper than my entire life plan. "Brooke, candied apples are a carnival treat. These are crabapple blossoms."

I let out a dry, awkward laugh.

That was when The Novel Fallacy Correction System suddenly materialized in my head. It told me not to waste my breath. In this novel, I was nothing but a disposable extra. So the male lead, Nolan, rejecting me today was a given.

Him falling for the female lead later on was set in stone. Both events were absolutely inevitable.

I asked if the female lead had shown up yet. The System said she had not.

Rage flared in my chest.

"You traitor. Why the hell are you telling me this right now?" All that unspoken affection instantly morphed into pure spite.

I lost my damn mind and went completely rogue.

I stood on my tiptoes and planted a kiss right on Nolan's cheek.

It landed with a loud, unmistakable smack.

Nolan froze.

A flicker of genuine confusion sparked in his clear eyes. Then, his perfect brows drew together in a slow, deliberate scowl. A storm was brewing.

There was no way I had the guts to say I liked him now.

"Don't panic! Just checking if you taste salty!" I shrieked, turning on my heel and bolting.

I gritted my teeth and questioned The System. "How many points to upgrade to a main character? Like becoming Nolan's tragic first love. We date for a bit, my family suddenly hits the jackpot, and I move to Europe for college and never come back."

[Points?]

The System sounded genuinely lost.

"You know, completing quests for points to buy cheat items. Isn't that how systems help their hosts?"

Silence echoed in my head. I pushed. "Come on, give me a daily quest."

[I am not that kind of system.]

"Then give me some plot spoilers. Give me a cheat code."

The System said knowing wouldn't change a thing. Because my existence was entirely irrelevant to the main plot. It was only here to warn me against pointless struggles. I needed to accept my role.

Apparently, my entire screen time in this book amounted to maybe three sentences.

[Brooke O'Connor was the girl next door who went to the same school, harboring an obsession with Nolan since childhood. Though many girls threw themselves at Nolan, like his neighbor Brooke, he never gave any of them a second glance. Until]

Like his neighbor Brooke. I was momentarily speechless. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat.

"So what you're saying is I just have to sit quietly like a brainless NPC and watch the main couple fall in love?"

[Yes.]

The System confirmed.

"But I already have feelings for Nolan." I frowned.

[Hold them in. Do not fight the female lead for a man. It will end badly for you.]

The System replied dryly.

"You're insane." I was mildly furious, my blood at a gentle simmer, my rage hitting a solid point-five out of ten. "She isn't even here yet, so stop gaslighting me. I will like whoever the hell I want."

Brave words, followed immediately by total cowardice.

Chapter 2

I kept my neck stiff. My best friend, Chloe, sat across from us. She was aggressively wiggling her eyebrows at me.

I kept my head down, staring at my phone, trying to ignore the literal daggers Nolan was glaring into the side of my head.

A text from Chloe popped up on my screen.

[Brooke, are you out of your mind? Nolan is tutoring you. Why am I here playing third wheel?]

[Also, why is his aura so pitch-black today? He looks like he wants to swallow you whole.]

Ha. Of course he wanted to murder me. That was exactly why I dragged Chloe here to act as my human meat shield. Yesterday, after I bolted, Nolan actually texted me. A first in human history.

[Explain.]

Naturally, I left him on read. What was I supposed to say? I was not kissing you, Nolan, I was fighting the injustice of my predestined narrative arc? He would have immediately called my mom to get me committed to a psych ward.

That single kiss had completely drained my lifetime supply of courage. I couldn't even type out the words I like you.

"Brooke. Are you done with the problem?" Nolan's voice was ice-cold.

My head snapped up. "Huh?" I shoved my phone face-down on the desk. "Almost. Basically done."

"By almost, do you mean writing the word Solve and staring at it for ten minutes?"

I swallowed hard. "I am brainstorming."

The corner of Nolan's mouth ticked up in a sharp, mocking curve. "A brainstorm? Or a Blizzard?" He glanced at the empty Dairy Queen cup sitting next to my elbow.

Chloe had brought us Blizzards. My chocolate almond one was completely scraped clean. A snort escaped Chloe's lips. She slapped a hand over her mouth.

Nolan slowly shifted his arctic gaze to her.

Chloe instantly zipped her lips, shrinking back into her chair.

If Nolan ever accidentally licked his own lips, his own venom would instantly kill him.

The System piped up in my head. It told me the main plotline technically started when Nolan went to college. An Ivy League golden boy crossing paths with his destined female lead. And then

"Stop." I mentally cut it off. "I do not need the extra depression, thanks."

Besides, just the words Ivy League were a massive reality check. I was not getting into an Ivy. If I was, my mom would not have begged him to tutor me. He was only here because his dad forced him, playing the good-neighbor card.

Otherwise, Nolan, the AP Calculus god, would not be caught dead helping me, a girl stuck in remedial math. You did not need to do the math to know remedial meant the absolute bottom of the barrel.

[You read too much Wattpad. Do you honestly think you are the quirky underdog heroine bagging the valedictorian?]

The System scoffed.

"Wow, you actually know what Wattpad is?" I marveled.

I definitely was not some quirky, sunshine heroine. Before I developed this massive crush on Nolan, I was a complete gremlin. A chronically online seventeen-year-old shut-in, obsessed with anime and fanfiction. My grades were an absolute trainwreck.

I could barely pass English, and my math scores were genuinely offensive.

Online, I could keyboard-smash all day and write three-thousand-word essays defending my favorite fictional characters. In reality, I practically crawled along the baseboards, too socially paralyzed to string two sentences together.

Chloe was the only person I could actually talk to.

Chloe bailed.

Nolan leaned back in his chair, watching me with infuriating composure. He crossed his long legs. His striking eyes held a hint of stormy blue.

"Brooke." His voice dropped, demanding. "Talk."

I was cornered. I forced myself to meet his gaze. "What is there to say? You know exactly what it meant."

"What did it mean?"

I literally kissed him. What the hell else could it mean? He knew perfectly well, yet he was forcing me to say it out loud. I flat-out refused to give him the satisfaction of rejecting me.

Chapter 3

"You corrected me about the flowers and humiliated me. My temper flared, and my only goal was to gross you out."

Silence. Nolan looked genuinely irritated. A long, slow exhale finally escaped his lips.

"Brooke. You are pulling an eighty-five on the next practice exam."

I sprang up from my chair. "What? Are you insane? I am barely scraping a sixty right now!"

"Do it. Or I tell your mother you kissed me." A faint, wicked smirk pulled at the corner of his perfect mouth.

I understood completely. He was grossing me out right back.

Falling for Nolan was an accident. And yet, it wasn't. He wasn't exactly ice-cold, but he grew up entirely too handsome. He carried this natural, unapproachable aura.

It made me a little terrified of him.

For years, despite living right next door, our paths rarely crossed. But every time that tall, long-legged boy appeared at the end of the alley, my eyes would quietly track him for a few extra seconds.

That definitely wasn't a crush. Everyone stares at pretty things.

[Psycho.]

She texted back.

Okay, maybe a little psycho. But seventeen was a weird, messy age. Girls were suddenly hypersensitive, growing into their bodies, acting like unpredictable storm clouds. I was still stuck in childhood, showing up to school in the tacky clothes my mom made.

Sometimes it was a lace cupcake skirt paired with a school hoodie. Other times, a sweater covered in neon knit dolls. I looked a little ridiculous.

No one said anything to my face, but I felt the side-eyes. They whispered behind my back, calling me an attention seeker. Saying I was too old to still be playing dress-up like a little princess.

Then, one day, I walked past a group of AP guys playing basketball. The judgmental stares were impossible to ignore. A tall guy sneered, asking why I always dressed like a total weirdo.

"I think it's pretty." Nolan's tone was completely flat, totally indifferent. I caught the words right as I hurried past.

The crush hit me like a raindrop falling from a branch.

A quiet, undeniable snap.

I knew I wasn't some knockout beauty. But Nolan also knew exactly why I wore those childish clothes. My mom lost her leg in a car crash a few years back. She couldn't go out to work anymore.

My dad and I encouraged her to take up crafting. That turned into sewing me brightly colored dresses.

She didn't realize her sense of style was outdated. And we would never dream of telling her.

I might be a socially anxious shut-in, and half the time I acted like a total coward. But when it came to wearing the clothes my mom made, I never once felt embarrassed.

I always thought Nolan was just harsh and sharp-tongued. He was a tyrant during tutoring, constantly sighing over my tragic math homework. But beneath all that, there was a distant, quiet gentleness. A gentleness only I knew about.

There were a lot of little moments like that. Like when we were just kids. I barely got an allowance, but I had a massive sweet tooth. I used to stand outside his front yard, completely silent like a creepy little ghost.

I would just blankly stare at Nolan eating his snacks.

He would look utterly disgusted. Then he would toss handfuls of fruit snacks and jelly pouches through the wrought-iron fence.

I would scoop them up and bolt like I had just struck gold. We never exchanged a single word. But I always remembered how sweet those jellies tasted. Grape and orange.

My life felt completely fulfilled.

Chapter 4

The crabapple blossoms in the alley that night were so vivid.

Why was I just an extra? A disposable piece of cannon fodder? It was depressing.

I hated The System. It told me Nolan was going to have his own female lead. It made me feel like the other woman, even though I hadn't even done anything. But this female lead was just thin air right now.

I didn't know her, and neither did Nolan.

Was fate really some unbreakable law? I refused to swallow that.

I asked the damn System, "If you won't give me a main character status, can I at least try to shoot for the moon myself? I swear, even if I actually catch it, I just want a taste. I will gracefully roll out of the way when the time comes."

The System was speechless.

[First, you are guaranteed to fail. Second, any erroneous memories created will be automatically purged. But by all means, try.]

How was I supposed to try? My entire personality consisted of lurking in the shadows. They say the first step is the hardest. For me, the middle and the end were impossible too.

If only I were pretty and outgoing. Then I could be like the other sixteen-year-old girls. I could playfully shove my bestie around in front of Nolan, laughing sweetly like a little cupcake.

If only Nolan was a little uglier. Like back when he used to throw snacks at me. Short, skinny, and scrawny. Not like now.

Dangerously handsome. Sharp as a knife.

If he were ugly, he would know that someone liked him for more than just his face.

I was aggressively sketching a stick figure in the corner of my notebook. It was ugly-kid Nolan.

"The girl in the back corner?" A male professor's voice echoed from the stage.

The auditorium was packed with the entire sophomore class. Our mandatory study hall had been hijacked for some university professor's guest lecture.

I tried to melt into the shadows. Not me. Please not me.

"The girl currently trying to shrink her own spine? Yes, you."

Laughter ripped through the auditorium.

I stiffly got to my feet. In the center of the front row, Nolan turned his head to look back.

The professor asked for my thoughts on his last point.

I glanced up at the massive banner above the stage: Mental Health and Adolescent Growth. I hesitated for a second, then started talking straight out of my ass. "I feel like for teens to be mentally healthy, we need proper outlets. Like developing our passions."

"Such as?" The professor prompted gently.

He triggered my trap card.

"Like my passion for shonen anime. For example, the one where they hunt for the grand treasure, or the one where humans fight alien invaders, and also" I was practically spitting bars, listing off god-tier masterpieces. My homeroom teacher's face darkened by the second.

Next to me, Chloe covered her face in secondhand embarrassment, physically leaning away from me. The rest of the class stared at me with a mix of utter shock and weird respect for my sheer otaku energy.

Going on that rant felt amazing. Getting held back by my homeroom teacher to sweep the auditorium afterwards did not.

Every class had to leave one person behind for cleanup duty. Thankfully, Nolan drew the short straw for the AP class. He took off his jacket and rolled up his dress shirt sleeves, getting straight to work.

I thought about my plan to shoot for the moon. I needed to grow a thicker skin.

Nolan swept, I held the dustpan. Nolan wiped the desks, I rinsed the rags. I was practically wagging a tail behind him.

He paused. His voice was cool. "Honestly, Brooke, what place from the absolute bottom did you get on the weekly quiz?"

I didn't even have time to deflect.

Bang.

A gust of wind slammed the supply closet door shut behind us.

Chapter 5

It was a total disaster. Almost ten at night. The heavy door of the supply closet had locked Nolan and me inside. The rest of the school had completely cleared out.

Both of our phones were sitting on our desks in the classroom.

Panic clawed at my throat. I mentally screamed for The System. Total radio silence, exactly as I expected.

A few minutes later, Nolan slid down the wall. He hit the floor, the color rapidly draining from his face. He tried to play it cool at first, brushing it off. He swore our parents would definitely come looking for us soon.

But then the tremors started. A sheen of cold sweat broke out across his forehead. He looked agonizingly sick.

I paced the cramped closet like a rat in a cage. "Nolan, does something hurt? What do I do, what do I do"

"Quiet. I am not in pain." He pressed the heel of his hand hard against his forehead.

A lightbulb went off. I dropped to my knees beside him, my voice hesitant. "Is this claustrophobia?"

The classic, tragic flaw of every fictional male lead.

"No." He paused, his breathing shallow. "But something similar."

I stared at the tight knot between his brows. Summoning every ounce of nerve I had, I reached out and patted his back, coaxing him like a spooked child. "Breathe in."

He shot me a look of pure confusion.

"Just do it. Inhale." I demonstrated, dragging in a massive gulp of air. I puffed my cheeks out, swelling up like a blowfish.

He was literally dripping with cold sweat, but for once, he actually listened. He lifted his gaze to mine. He pulled in a shaky breath, syncing his rhythm with mine.

"Hold it. Count to five. Now exhale, slowly. Yeah, exactly like that. Keep the exhale slow. Take another one."

The year my mom got into that accident, her life hanging by a thread, I was an absolute wreck. My dad watched me crying until I was physically sick. He told me, Brooke, you have to learn how to breathe. When the panic hits.

When the grief feels like it might crush you.

You do not think. You just breathe. It is the best kind of magic. All the toxic energy slowly dissolves and leaves your body with every exhale.

Nolan was surprisingly obedient. We sat in total silence, breathing in and out together for five straight minutes. The tremors in his hands subsided. He was physically grounding himself, letting the tension bleed out.

Reality suddenly snapped back. I mentally slapped myself. What the hell was I doing?

This was the prime moment to pull a move straight out of a rom-com. I was supposed to tell some heartwarming childhood story. Distract the male lead, make his heart flutter, secure the emotional bond. Instead, I had us sitting in the dark, puffing our cheeks in and out.

Two silent, traumatized blowfish.

Whatever. I could fix this. I pivoted immediately, initiating the nostalgic romance protocol. "Hey, do you remember that time when we were kids, and you threw all those fruit snacks over the fence for me?"

"I remember. You were standing outside my gate with a runny nose. The wind blew so hard your snot whipped across your cheek." His voice was impossibly calm and pleasant.

I stared at the ceiling, silently praying for death.

By the time our dads showed up with the campus security guard, Nolan looked completely back to normal.

The night was pitch black. We were sitting in the backseat of his dad's SUV. I cracked the window. A few drops of rain slipped through the gap, cool and soft against my forehead.

Riding the adrenaline high of surviving the night, I turned to look at him with a wide smile. "It is raining, Nolan. Good thing we got in the car before it poured."

He looked over at me. His expression was softer than usual, the sharp edges smoothed out.

But a second later, a thick fog seemed to roll directly over his eyes.

The air sucked out of the car. A bizarre, suffocating silence slammed down between us. He stared at me for a long, unblinking moment. Then, his brows pulled together in a slow, deliberate frown.

His striking amber eyes held nothing but genuine, empty confusion.

"Dad, why is Brooke in our car?"

Chapter 6

A cold spring drizzle seemed to fall straight onto my bare heart.

The System, which had been dormant for hours, suddenly reappeared. Its voice was clinically detached.

[I warned you.]

This was the first of Nolan's countless memory wipes. The first time he forgot about me. Technically, he didn't forget me entirely. He just forgot every single thing that had happened between us recently.

The reckless kiss at the end of the alley. The synchronized breathing in the locked closet.

His dad forgot why we were even in his car. The teachers and the security guard had zero recollection of us being trapped in that room. Nolan remembered he was supposed to tutor me, but the ruthless threat he made afterward was gone. Even the text he sent me, the one that just said Explain, had completely vanished from my screen.

My chest physically ached. A sour, heavy pressure settled right behind my ribs. But hey, at least I didn't have to stress about scoring an eighty-five on the next practice exam.

In this entire world, only Brooke, the disposable extra, remembered