was today!”
“You’re losing it.”
I sigh. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“It’s the stress,” he diagnoses. “You’ve been taking on too much lately. Are you nervous about the speech?”
Speech?
What speech?
Oh, flub. The election speech. I have to do it again!
This is officially my worst nightmare. The universe is punishing me. But for what? Not studying for my history test?
Really, Universe? I’m the best you could do? You couldn’t find anyone more devious to torture?
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch.
I think I’m hyperventilating. I’ve never hyperventilated before, but I suddenly sound like a woman in labor.
“It’s going to be okay,” Owen assures me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Where are your speech notes?”
I pat my back pocket but come up empty. “I … I threw them away.”
He blinks rapidly. “Why would you do that?”
I throw my hands in the air. “Because I already gave the stupid speech yesterday!”
“Okay,” he says, “take deep breaths. It’s going to be fine.”
“How is it going to be fine? I don’t know what to say. I’m going to die up there. Again!”
I have to sit down. No. I have to run. I have to get as far away from this death trap as possible. I glance at the cafeteria doors, watching the hundreds upon hundreds of students filing into the gym on the other side of the hallway. Then I glance at the back door, the one that leads to the parking lot.
Yup. I’m so getting out of here.
I turn to leave but a bony, pale hand is suddenly on my arm.
“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Rhiannon Marshall’s steely blue eyes are trained on me.
I barely have time to hand Owen my bag before Rhiannon is dragging me out the door. Toward my second demise of the week.
I Can’t Get No Satisfaction
1:33 p.m.
“Running for vice president of the junior class, here’s Ellison Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.” Principal Yates’s voice echoes in my ears as I step up to the microphone. The room is blurring in and out of focus. I look for Owen. He gives me an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up from the front row.
I’m doomed and we both know it.
I stand speechless and motionless, trying to figure out what to do. Maybe this is all a really bad dream. Maybe I’ll wake up in my bed and it’ll be Tuesday morning.
I squeeze my eyes tight.
Wake up, wake up, wake up!
I hear tiny snickers spread through the crowd. This time, they’re not laughing at my blown-up lips, they’re laughing at me.
I snap my eyes open. I’m still in the gym. The entire student body is still staring at me with expectant eyes. I find Tristan in the crowd. He’s looking very concerned. If I fainted, would he run up here? Would he carry me to the nurse’s office, knocking people out of his way like some war hero action film star?
I clear my throat. “Hello,” I say. My voice sounds high and squeaky. I try a lower register. “Hello.”
Whoa. Too low.
“Hello.” Third time’s a charm.
They’re already chuckling. I’ve barely even said anything. High school is the worst.
“I’m Ellison Sparks and I’m running for junior class vice president.” I rack my brain trying to remember the speech Rhiannon wrote, but for the life of me, I can’t recall one horrible word.
“Um,” I say haltingly. “I’m Ellison Sparks and I’m running for junior class vice president.”
Crap. I already said that.
Guffaws from the peanut gallery.
“I’m sorry,” I continue shakily, “but this whole day has just been really, really weird.”
Silence.
Huh.
They stopped giggling.
I keep going. “Have you ever felt like you’re just stuck in the same exact day? Like yesterday never even happened?”
I glance around. Some people actually seem interested. Tristan leans forward. Behind me, Rhiannon is hissing through gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”
I look to Owen, who gestures for me to keep going.
“Like we’re just running on an invisible hamster wheel and nothing we do makes any difference?”
I catch sight of Mrs. Naper, the psychology teacher. She’s smiling and nodding emphatically.
“That’s how I feel today. Like I’ve done this all before and I already know the outcome.”
I swallow. I’m still surrounded by rapt silence. I’ve somehow managed to snag their attention.
“You won’t vote for me and Rhiannon.” I point behind me to our opponents. “You’ll elect them. At least that’s how it happened before.”
Now I think I’ve just confused everyone.
Wrap it up, I scold myself.
“But I hope today—this version of today—you’ll do it differently. Thank you.”
I step away from the mic as