Page 18 of The Do-Over

The minute my alarm went off, I knew for certain that the whole thing was real.

I lay there in my bed, cocooned in the heaviness of my down comforter and staring up at the ceiling, not wanting to leave my pillow-soft bed and face it. Because even though I didn’t have a clue about the how or why, I was definitely living in a day-on-repeat loop. I’d gone to sleep at Grandma Max’s, yet here I was again, waking up in my own room to that annoying song Josh had programmed into my iPhone to wake me up.

I glanced over at Logan, sound asleep with his mouth wide-open.

Yep—been here, done this.

I sat up and reached for my phone. And I thought,What if the universe wants me to fix something?

I didn’t believe in fate and karma and that sort of nonsense, but I also didn’t know how to explain what was happening.

Somehow I was reliving the same day for a third time.

What if these repeating Valentine’s Days weren’t karmic punishment for something I did in a past life or some other horrible reason? What if they’re agift, an opportunity to right a day that went so very wrong?

It was worth a shot, right?

Yes. That was what I was going to do.

I worked through it all in my mind while I took a shower (fast because of Joel’s potty needs, of course), ticking off all the things I needed to correct from the previous day. Then I created anewto-do list.

To-Do List—February 14 (again)

Avoid wrecking car

Avoid scholarship meeting in counselor’s office

Ensure Josh and Macy cannot kiss

Convince Dad that he doesn’t want to move to Texas

How hard could all of that be, right?

After I showered, I slid into my lucky plaid dress. It wasn’t new and adorable like the shirtdress from the original Valentine’s Day, but if ever I needed the luck of the dress that had scored me my highest ACT score, it was today. I paired it with tights and my suede boots—warmer than the day before, but still cute—and headed for the door.

As I drove toward the school, I was hyperfocused on the snow-slushed road. My phone was nestled deep in my bag, my hands carefully placed at ten and two. I was traveling in the left-hand lane, whereas I’d been in the right on the other days, so I was all set up tonotcrash into Nick Stark.

Taylor Swift was singing about Coney Island while I drove as carefully as a student driver on test day. It was imperative, in my opinion, that I rectify this easiest of complications. I left two car-lengths between my creeper van and the silver minivan in front of me, confident I was going to miss Nick entirely and start the day right.

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray?

Traffic was moving pretty well in spite of the snow, and I started to relax once I passed the intersection where I’d hit him the day before. Step one of my plan—not totaling my car—was complete. I could almost feel the tension draining out of me when all of a sudden, a huge semi-truck blasted past on my right, shooting slush all over my windshield.

Totally blinding me.

“Dammit!”

I hit the brakes as I flipped on the wipers, but my tires locked on the packed snow and I couldn’t stop. In an instant, I saw everything as my window cleared. My car, sliding into the right lane because I had to jerk the wheel to avoid oncoming traffic.

Sliding directly toward the pickup truck in the other lane.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

I mashed my foot on the brake, but it was no use. I slammed intothat vehicle—harder than I’d hit the day before—actually moving it as I rammed the side of the truck bed.

“No, no, no, no!”As my car jerked to a stop, I was staring directly at a truck that looked exactly like Nick Stark’s truck.What the hell, universe?

My hood appeared to be just as crumpled as the day before, maybe more. I unbuckled my seat belt, my shaking hands making the task trickier than usual. I was just grabbing the door handle when it was yanked open from the other side.

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