Page 20 of The Do-Over

“Then I’m just going to assume you’re a poser.” His eyes were back on the road again.

“Posing at what, exactly? Someone who likes the sound of angry old guys barking out words?”

That made his lips turn up into an actual smile and he glanced over. “See? I knew you didn’t like them.”

I rolled my eyes, which made him chuckle, and I told myself that it didn’t matter. My interaction with Nick Stark was surely irrelevant in the whole fixing-the-day plan. So I said what was actually on my mind.

“Do you always come at people when they’re just making small talk?”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘coming at people.’ I just think if yoursmall talkis about a band, you should probably know about said band.”

I scoffed. “I was being polite—ever heard of it?”

“I wouldn’t really call pointless lying ‘polite.’?”

“Come on—it wasn’t lying.” I gave my head a shake. “I was mentioning it for the sake of conversation. It’s what strangers do when they’re attempting to be nice.”

“But we aren’t strangers.” He looked at me with a smirk. Again. “You said you’re my lab partner.”

“Iamyour lab partner!”

Bigger smirk. “So then why did you say we’re strangers?”

I sighed. “I have no idea.”

It was horribly quiet for a few minutes as his old truck drove in the direction of our school. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but better than when he was talking. So—of course—he ruined it when he said, “Wait a second—now I know where I’ve seen you. Aren’t you the girl—”

“Who sits by you in Chem? Yes,” I interrupted.

“—who choked in the cafeteria?”

Man, I would never live that down.

“I didn’t choke.” I cleared my throat. “It just got stuck in my throat.”

That made him look away from the road to give me a cocked eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that be the literal definition of choking?”

“No, it would not,” I huffed, knowing I was huffing but unable to stop. “Choking is when food gets stuck in your windpipe and you cannot breathe. I could breathe; I just had food stuck in my esophagus.”

He rolled in his lips and narrowed his eyes. “You sure that’s right?”

“Of courseI’m sure—it happened to me.”

He made a noise. “I’ve just never heard of that—I don’t know if it’s a thing.”

“I amtellingyou that it happened so you actuallydoknow that it’s a thing.” I could hear my voice getting high-pitched, but the boy was beyond frustrating. “Some people have a condition where food can get stuck in their throat. I have to take omeprazole every morning to ensure it doesn’t happen again. So it is definitely a thing.”

He pulled up to a stoplight, and when the truck came to a complete stop, Nick turned his head and looked at me.

His mouth wasn’t smiling, but there was something teasing in his eyes when he said, “Are you sure you’re my lab partner?”

I groaned. “Of courseI’m sure.”

“That girl is super quiet, whereas you seem pretty chatty.”

“I’m not chatty.”

“You seem excessively chatty, actually.”

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