Page 21 of The Do-Over

“Well, I’m not.” I was actually a quiet person.Shit.

“Yeah, okay.”

We didn’t speak again until we got to school, where I thanked him for the ride and very nearly threw his coat at him. He caught it gracefully, and as I turned away, I could have sworn he was smiling.

I had to force myself to take a deep breath and focus. It didn’t matter that Nick Stark was intent on ruining my chances of fixing this day—I had work to do.

When the office sent a pass for me, I grabbed my bag and started in that direction. But instead of turning toward the administration area, I walked all the way back to the farthest restroom in the building, the one that was past the library.

I didn’t really have a good plan on how to keep my spot in the summer program, but part of me wondered: If they couldn’t find me, might they consider just letting me in to save us all the awkward embarrassment of their mistake?

I mean, what was one more spot, really?

It was the best I could come up with at that moment, so hiding in the bathroom was what I was going to do. I glanced behind me before pushing in the bathroom door and going inside. It smelled like cherry—a wafting reminder of the in-between-class vapers—but I was alone.

Whew.

I set my bag next to the sink and pulled out my makeup pouch. I spent a few minutes touching up my cheeks and lips. I had complicated feelings about Josh after seeing him kiss-but-not-really-in-real-life Macy, but I was forcing myself to forget about that.

Shehad kissedhim, after all, and if I’d stuck around, would I have seen him pull away? I was going with yes.

Presents, poetry, andI love you—those boxes were getting checked. I had total confidence in my theories about relationships and love, and I wasn’t going to let a tiny little peck screw it all up. Today was going to go perfectly, and tomorrow would be February 15.

Unfortunately, the makeup freshening didn’t take long, and after that I didn’t know what to do with myself. I could scroll through my phone to pass the time, but there was a whole nervous-awkwardness thing that made me tense as I stood by the sink.

Did I hear someone coming? Who was it? Teacher or student? Nice or mean? Was I supposed to pretend to be doing my makeup if they came in or… what? The minutes were ticking by like they were in slow motion.

Finally, I decided to go into a stall. It seemed disgusting, sitting on a toilet—once again—while fully clothed, but at least I could relax. I took my bag into the first slot, locked the door, and started laying down a two-layer-deep covering of toilet paper across the seat. When it was finally thick enough where I could no longer see the black seat, I sat down.

I pulled my phone out of my front pocket and texted Josh.

Me: I cannot believe it’s V-Day and I haven’t seen you yet today.

Josh was quick to respond, my phone making the familiar horse’sneighsound that he’d programmed as his own personal ringtone.Right?! Your present is burning a hole in my locker. Where were you this morning?

That made me relax a little. I smiled and texted:Wrecked my car on the way to school—I’ll tell you about it later.

Josh: Oh, shit.

Me: Right? Now, regarding my present, is it burning a big hole or a little hole?

Josh: That’s for me to know and you to find out. But I have to go take a quiz now, babe.

Me: Fine. Xoxo.

I backed out of messages, feeling relieved. Regardless of what’d occurred on the other Valentine’s Days, there was no way Josh would be kissing Macy that day.

Take that, Mace.

Since I wasn’t going anywhere soon, I leaned down, unzipped my bag, and started digging for my book. If I was stuck hiding in the restroom, why not make use of the time and read, right? I had to take out the bottle of Diet Coke in order to grab the paperback, so I set it on the floor and pulled out the novel.

My toes were already killing me because my adorable new boots were a half size too small, so I slid my feet out and rested them on top of the soft suede as I settled in to read.

I shoved my phone into my pocket with one hand as I gripped the book with the other, but as I pulled my hand out of my pocket, my cuff bracelet caught the edge of my phone. I grappled for it as it started falling, but it was like I was watching in slo-mo as the phone tumbled and went through the tiny gap that existed between my outer thigh and the edge of the toilet seat.

“Gah!” I jumped up, but it was too late. I looked down into the TP-decorated toilet. My beautiful rose-gold phone with the adorable floral case had immediately sunk to the bottom of the germ-infested porcelain bowl. “No, no, no—shit, shit, shit.”

As my ears started pounding, I realized that my stockinged feet were now directly on the disgusting floor.

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