Page 29 of The Do-Over

“Nothing.” He gave me a sweet face and said, “I think your compulsive need for control is adorable. But don’t you think saying I love you on your three-month anniversary that happens to be on a love holiday is just a little too penciled-in-the-date?”

I felt myself blush. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Don’t you need to go in your house now?”

“Fine, I’ll shut up,” he said. “If you want to ‘I-love’ the shit out of him, just call him later.”

I rolled my eyes and waved before he turned and ran up the steps and into his house. Nick put the truck in reverse and backed out, and just as he put it in first, he said, “You know you don’t love him, right?”

“What?” I looked at his profile and said, “How wouldyouknow?”

“How would younotknow?” he said.

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” I said, annoyed. Thank God I lived close to Chris and was almost home already.

“Well, you should have it withsomeone.” He glanced over at me. “You’re saying the L-word, but a few hours ago you were hiding behind plants to see if he was cheating on you.”

“That’s not what I was doing—”

“Bullshit,” he said.

“It’s not,” I lied. “I was just waiting for him.”

Nick braked in front of my house, pulling the car over to the curb. He shoved it in neutral, pulled up the parking brake, and turned to face me. “Even if that were true—and we both know it’s not—the vibe between you and your ‘boyfriend’ was awkward and polite. It was tense and weird. For fuck’s sake, it wasn’t love.”

“Why do you care?” I said, almost crying now. I was tired of the repeating days, of thinking about Josh and Macy, of Nick acting like he knew anything about me or my relationship.

His face was unreadable. “I don’t.”

But… did he?He looked so serious that it made my stomach feel flittery. I grabbed my bag and said, “Good. Um, thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime.”

Inside, I went straight to my room, hoping to maybe just avoid the promotion discussion with my father entirely. Unfortunately, he came up right after me and told me the “good news” while tousling with Joel on my bed, tickling the kid and putting on a glorious display of fatherly love that I found to be terribly depressing.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he and Lisa talked about Texas all through dinner. The things they could do there, the suburbs wherethey hoped to find a house, the restaurants they hoped to frequent, the touristy things the boys would love. Valentine’s dinner that night was apparently sponsored by the Texas travel commission.

By the time I was ready to go to sleep, I was totally dejected. Josh hadn’t called or texted, so I stood in front of my bedroom window and made a wish upon a star, just like I was seven and wishing for my parents to stay married.

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.” I stared out at the brightest star I could find, narrowed my eyes, and said, “I wish that I could have the perfect Valentine’s Day and make this loop end.”

I climbed into bed, hopeful but realistic.

I hadn’t made it the perfect day—not even close.

But perhaps I only needed to fix, like, one thing. I mean, technically, I’d prevented Josh from cheating on me, so that had to count, right?

As I climbed under my covers, though, an image of me in his front seat, squeezed between him and Macy and Nick while my boots smelled like Fritos, popped into my head.

Yeah, that prevention probably didn’t count for much.

CONFESSION #9

In seventh grade, I went through a phase where I took taxis all over the city, just for something to do when I couldn’t handle being alone anymore.

ANOTHER VALENTINE’S DAY

When I woke up the next morning to that god-awful song, I realized that I had no idea what to do next. I still thought I needed to change things, to fix things, but I couldn’t figure out what, exactly. I made a new list.

To-Do List—February 14 (again)

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