Page 34 of The Do-Over

I rolled my eyes and my Nick-warmth went away. “I hate that so much.”

“What?” He looked interested, but not offended. “What do you hate?”

“When men feel the need to refer to their beloved vehicle as female.”

That made him give me the smart-ass smile that I’d grownaccustomed to over the course of our repeating-days relationship. “Why is that?”

“It’s just so sexist. It rings of the patriarchy and of men objectifying women. Like,I love this beautiful piece of metal so much that it very nearly turns me on. Like woman.”

His smile held as he said, “It was my brother’s truck, for the record, and he nicknamed it ‘Betty’ because it used to belong to our great-aunt Betty. And we also have a dog named Betty.”

“So, fine.” I shrugged and said, “I’m a raging feminist lunatic, I guess.”

“You guess.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I rolled my eyes and just felt… out of sorts all of a sudden. “Technically, I’m starting to think I’m just a straight-up lunatic across the board.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You doing okay here?”

“No, I’m not doing okay here!” I sighed and groaned and wondered how many more times he was going to ask me that before my premature death from time-loop frustration. I shook out my hands and tried my mantra—You are on top of this—but it didn’t work and I groaned again and yelled, “I’m actually fucking TERRIBLE and something WEIRD is happening to me, but it is SO WEIRD that I can’t even talk about it!”

“Wow.” Nick’s mouth kicked up a little at the corners, and then he actually laughed. “It must beveryweird to make someone likeyouhave a meltdown likethat.”

I sighed and said, “You have no fucking idea.”

That made him laugh again—sweet Lordhe was a handsome boywhen he wasn’t being an ass—and he said, “Do you want a ride? To school? I mean, I’m going there and if you’re walking there—this is probably faster. And warmer.”

Who was this nice and charming person? I tucked my hair behind my ears and said, “That would be great. Thank you.”

I picked up my bag and got in the truck, suddenly nervous. Which was bizarre because it felt like I’d been in that truck twenty times, and I hadn’t been nervous any of those times. Of course, he’d been a jerk all of those times; Nice Nick was new.

“Do you always walk to school?” Nick got behind the wheel and pushed in the clutch. “I’m surprised I’ve never seen you before.”

“No,” I said, buckling my seat belt. “Today was, um, kind of like an experiment.”

“And the findings were…?”

I straightened and dared to glance at Nick, who was waiting for my answer with an amused expression on his face. I said, “The findings were inconclusive because I was pulled off the experiment to be a Good Samaritan to this guy with a broken-down car.”

“Bummer on the experiment, but the guy sure sounds cool.”

I did laugh, then, unable to resist. “He might be cool, but I have it on good authority that he’s actually a grouchy hermit who won’t even speak to his lab partner in Chemistry.”

“Iknewyou recognized me.” He pointed when he said it, grinning, and I couldn’t believe the irony. “Miss I-don’t-talk-to-strangers.”

I laughed a little more and said, “You can never be too careful.”

“Of course,” he said, turning his eyes back to the road.

“Did you finish the reading for today?” I asked, wondering how someone could smell so good but also so subtle. It wasn’t like the expensive cologne Josh wore—which I enjoyed—but more like fresh body wash or dryer sheets. I could hyperventilate on his cleanliness. “I totally forgot, so I’m going to have to cram next hour.”

“I didn’t do the reading, but I never do.” He hit his turn signal and made a left into the junior parking lot. “I wait until the night before a test, like all normal high school students.”

“You’re calling me abnormal?”

He pulled into the shockingly open spot in the first row before saying, “I’m calling you unique.”

I must’ve made a face because he gave me a little smile as he turned off the truck and said, “What? I meant it as a compliment.”

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