The Do-Over

by Lynn Painter

Fate is for suckers. Love is for planners.

Why would I wait for fate to lend a hand, when I had two perfectly capable hands of my own?

“If you’re referring to the music, it’s Metallica. How do you not know that?” “Um, because I have taste and I’m not a hundred?”

I was so good that my parents didn’t have to worry about me. So they didn’t. At all.

“I find it unlikely that things could get any worse.” “Right?” I walked over to the linen closet and grabbed the clear bag of bedding that Grandma always kept clean for my sleepovers. “But I’m erring on the side of caution, just in case.”

How?

THE PEPPER?!

“No way.” I looked at that bitchy-looking, badly-painted feline and wondered. “What if it was the half-century pepper?”

what did I say?

Taylor Swift was singing about Coney Island while I drove as carefully as a student driver on test day.

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray?

“Okay. Well, um, I just wanted to tell you that I love—” “Chicken.” Nick pulled open the door, making me stumble backward, and he popped up beside me. “She loves chicken and thought you, her boyfriend, should probably know that.”

does he know that the day is repeating?

“Who are you, Nick Stark?”

I think your compulsive need for control is adorable.

I tried taking a different way to school. I stuck to the neighborhoods all the way there, but still managed to collide with Nick.

other stuff is changing... but she always runs into him

“Your whole matchy-matchy, Hallmark-holiday outfit—super cute.”

Another repeating day, another eye lost to over-rolling in the presence of Nick Stark.

“She wants to go with us, Emmie—ask her. She’s thrilled about warm weather and cowboys.” “She is?” “You’re surprised?” he asked, still smiling. “Well, not about the cowboys.”

I wished upon a star—again—before going to bed, but I was starting to lose hope that a freaking glowing orb in the sky had any interest in helping me at all.

“I’m not a stranger—we’re in the same Chemistry class.” What? So he actually knew I was his lab partner? Had he been messing with me every single time we’d met? I said, “Are you sure? I mean, you kind of look a little familiar, but—” “Yes, I’m sure—we sit at the same table. So will you help me?”

okay... was I right?

“I don’t know what the terrible thing is that you’re dealing with and can’t talk about, but when all else fails, I say fuck ’em.”

He reached out a hand, tugged lightly on the piece of hair that had come out of my ponytail, and he said, “Fuck ’em, Emilie.”

“Give me your number and I’ll text you.” I felt my mouth drop open and I tried being cool, but Nick was asking me for my phone number. What was happening? Nick Stark was asking for my number, and I kind of wanted to give it to him. I gave a half-laugh, suddenly nervous, and said, “Why would I do that, exactly?” He just said, “You’ll find out when I text you. Number, please.”

Nick: We aren’t strangers, remember?

PLEASE TELL ME I'M RIGHT

As he insisted on putting it on me, I said nothing, dreading the rash that would cover my skin within hours. Because I’d told Josh an entire story—last week—about how silver made me break out. Yes, people sometimes forgot things, but it had been a long story that included a trip to the ER and he’d commented on how if we’d been dating at that time, he would’ve smuggled in a pizza for me to eat. So now he was buying me silver?

was it for Macy and he switched them...

“G’night, Emilie Hornby.” “G’night to you, Nick Stark.”

I didn’t wish on a star that night. The day had been so close to perfect—in such an organic way—that I didn’t need the galaxy’s help. I got this, Milky Way.

Yes, being stuck in an eternal Valentine’s Day purgatory was the worst, but what I hadn’t considered until now was that I could do whatever I wanted and not face any of the fallout.

I could absolutely use Nick Stark’s words as my mantra for the day. Fuck ’em.

Let the games begin.

BABY LET THE GAMES BEGIN, LET THE GAMES BEGIN, ARE YOU READY FOR IT...?

Gone were the Valentine’s Days that started with crappy cars and car accidents. Gone were the Valentine’s Days that left me crying in the school bathroom. Gone were endless days of borrowing Nick Stark’s old jacket, and gone were the days that’d felt important but obviously were not. This new-and-improved Valentine’s Day was beginning with fast cars and Metallica on blast, and I dared the universe to dump on my parade. Not this time.

He was smiling up at her in that way. The exact same enamored way he’d looked at me.

what in the world

And it felt good, doing something. Instead of being dragged along by my life, I was leading the charge with my fingers wrapped around its scrawny neck. For good or bad, this day was all about me proactivating the shit out of my life.

I watched his Adam’s apple move when he swallowed and I was struck by how beautiful he was. Dark hair, ridiculously blue eyes, beautiful cheekbones, and lashes for days. And his body looked hard. I was pretty certain if I ran at him full speed, I would bounce off him instead of knocking him over.

“Comfy?” He looked amused and surprised by my actions, so I crossed my ankles and my arms. I leaned back and said, “Comfier than I’ve felt in years.”

Why would a guy pretend to not recognize a girl he knew from school?”

Had Nick Stark noticed… and liked… me before this whole thing started?

“Okay. If you started reliving the same day over and over again—like a time-loop scenario—would you tell anyone?” “No way.”

“Y’know, if this was a movie, I would look at your mouth right now. Like this.” I let my eyes glance down to his lips. “And you would kiss me.”

“You’ll have a fun day today and a nightmare tomorrow.” “Which is why,” I said, lowering my voice a little, “I’m refusing to think about tomorrow.”

“Can’t a girl just mix up her life a little?” “An unhinged girl, maybe.” “Well then, I’m that.”

“Tell me. What epic Ferris Bueller shit are we doing first?”

“Nick Stark, you are such a good liar!”

“Ready to do this again?”

“What did you tell them?”

HE SAID HE WAS GOING TO PROPOSE

I tried picturing my parents up there, young and still in love. Had my dad been nervous? Worried my mom might say no? Had she cried tears of joy before shouting “a thousand times yes!”? Had she gritted her teeth, irritated that he’d employed such a big, overdramatic gesture?

“I told him I wanted to come out here for a promposal.”

I KNEW IT

“Emilie Hornby, will you Cupid Shuffle with me to the prom?”

“Yes!” I screamed dramatically, jumping up and down, making the people behind us burst into applause. “Yes, I will prom you so hard!”

“This was a great idea, Hornby,” Nick teased as he went to-the-right-to-the-right. I laughed, still dancing as I looked at the beautiful skyline and the boy next to me. “I know.”

“You poor, deprived little book-nerd.” I laughed at that. “Right?”

“You said you’ve never been in love, but… like, you do believe in it, right?”