What would you do if you could live in the past? Literally live there, replaying all the best days of your life? You’d probably do it, wouldn’t you?

Well, take it from me, don’t! Stop that train, get off and run your butt back to your normal life because you’d be making a huge mistake. Believe me, I would know.

It’s all good fun in the beginning until you mess something up – again – worse than you had the first time, or maybe you give a hint to the wrong person that this day iss a replay or maybe you try to re-visit the day your perfect boyfriend told you: I love you, for the third time until you realize it’s untouchable and the memory is slowly fading away from you, doesn’t sound like so much fun now, does it?

Most people are probably thinking, revisit how? Like a family video cause if your tape broke after 3 replays you got ripped off, but that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about being sucked back in time to the exact moment of your choosing whenever you want, wherever you want. It’s intriguing huh? I thought so too but now I wish I had never done it. If I hadn’t been so miserable with my life I probably wouldn’t have but…I was in the grieving process and I wasn’t able to get over it, I thought I literally couldn’t.


I’m sitting on my bedroom floor, making an imprint in the carpet, with my knees hugged to my chest sobbing uncontrollably. My door is locked and I won’t let a soul in; not even my mother. I keet asking myself why, why did it have to happen to me, why am I the one who had to suffer, why am I all alone. I’m lost in my own pity-party and barely notice when the atmosphere begins to shift. I’ve been rocking myself back and forth chanting low under my breath: “I want to go back. I want to go back. I want to go back.” Little did I know how much power my words actually held.
I heard something that sounded like lighting outside my window but I don’t give it a glance, I figured it is the perfect way for my day to end; with a storm, practically overshadowing the complete U-turn my life has made.
The loud crashes don’t last long and when the sound stops there is a knock on my door and I draw my head away from my knee caps hastily wiping at my face in hopes that my eyes aren’t so swollen that I look like an anime character. “Honey, you’re going to be late for school!” My mom yells through my door.
I look at the door incredulously, “S-s-sch-schuh-school?” I weez with a sound that is mixed with a hic-up (when I cry, it’s really difficult to understand a word I say).
“Yea, that place where kids gather in hoards to learn.” Mom says, being a smart a**. She’s always so funny, or tries to be, but I can’t figure out why she’s bothering me with her lame school joke when she knows exactly what I’m going through. So not funny and so inappropriate. “No school, g-g-go away.”
I hear my mom huff from outside the door, she jiggles the handle and opens it walking in, I thought I locked that, I think looking away so she won’t see my tear streamed face. “Adonia, get up and get dressed, you’re going to be late…” I don’t move. She was speaking nonsense; it is 7:30 at night not 7 in the morning. She puts her hands on her hips and taps her foot, “Well fine then,” She sighs walking back toward the doorway, “I’ll just have to tell Cameron he’ll have to go without you.”
My head shoots up in an instant, “Cameron?” I blurt, clearly excited before I realize I should hate him with every fiber of my being, “What’s he doing here?” I grunt making my emotions match the situation this time.
“Picking you up for school like he does every day.” Mom comes back and bends down to my level putting her hand on my forehead, “What’s wrong with you? Do you have a fever or severe memory loss? I’ll say it one more time and if you don’t go now then you’re out of luck, Cameron. Is. Waiting. How long are you gonna leave him out there with your dad for?”
I batt her hand away from my forehead, “Mom, its Friday.” I enunciate, “I’ve already been to school and back, I had a shitty a** day – excuse my Latin,” – (I hate the excuse my French term, so over used) “and I know Cam is not out there.”
“Sweet baby geezus Dawn, It’s Tuesday, it’s now 7:15 meaning your a** is late! And Cameron is sitting on the couch like always. What’s the deal? Get up, grab your bag and get going before I make him leave.”
“But mom—”
“No.” She grabs my Pink Dolce & Gabbana tote off my mini fridge where my overflowing pile of purses are and hurls it at me, grabbing my wrist and hauling me to my feet. “Your clothes look fine, you can brush your hair in the car. Now get going.” She orders shoving me down the hallway, dragging me down the stairs and pushing me toward the living room. I can’t understans what planet she was on right now, it’s Friday! And I’ve been dumped but I don’t fight her, I’m too depressed.
“About time,” My dad says from his lounge chair, I drag my feet as I round the corner, “Dad, can you tell mom she’s acting like a psyc—” WHAT?!
“Maybe I should give you a fifteen minute grace period for your primping.” My boyfriend, wait, ex-boyfriend hops up from my couch with his black and blue Dakine backpack strapped around him and he’s wearing a smile on his face. How?!
“Uh, why are you staring at me like that?” Cameron asks, casting his blue eyes down at the carpet and shuffling his feet like he always does when he’s nervous.
I turn back to my mom with a stricken look, “Okay, what is going on here?” I ask, “Is this an intervention ‘er something? Cause if it is, I don’t need one. I’m fine.” I lie, whispering to her in a harsh voice. She grabs my arm and turns me back to Cam and Dad who are both staring at me like I’ve lost my mind when they’re all the ones who nhave most defintely lost their fricken noodles, simultaneously. Sending me back to school when it’s already over and making me ride with my recent ex, seriously? Rude! Not to mention, a little psychotic.
“Uhm, Donia I think we should probably go before we’re late. You know Kayla’s probably waiting at school for you already.” Cameron finishes.
Kayla! Betraying ex-best friend of mine. Why the hell would I want to see her?
“Uh, ‘scuse me?”
“Sorry Cameron, she’s being a little slow on the uptake today, just get her out of here please. You’re already late as it is. Make her forge an excused tardy note. I don’t want you two to have to do any Saturday schools this year.” Mom smiles warmly at Cameron and beckons him forward with a wave of her hand.
Cameron walks around the coffee table, takes my hand and drags me out the front door. “You alright?” He asks as he holds the door open for me to get into his Jeep Cherokee. “Uh, no. Not really Cam.” He closes the door when I’m in the car and walks to the driver’s side to get in, slamming his door, buckling his seatbelt and turning the car on. ‘S’what’s wrong?” He asks while he throws the car in reverse and backs out of my driveway.
“What do you think is wrong?” I bark.
“Uh, I really have no idea.”
“Hmm, alright then, let’s see, It’s Friday but mom told me it’s Tuesday, I haven’t gone to bed yet, you’re here, Kayla’s waiting, my eyes hurt and nothing is making sense. It’s 7 fricken thirty PM! Not AM. Ughhh.” I groan, throwing myself back against the car seat after counting my reasonings off on my fingers.
“Adonia I don’t know what you’re talking about. Its 7:22 right now and it is Tuesday, uh, the 25th I think.” He replies and then taps his digital clock on the dash. I look at it to humor him and my mouth drops open when I finally slow down long enough to realize it’s light outside not dark and his clock does say 7:22. Wtf! It obviously can’t be 7:30…but I know what went down today, there’s no way I would imagine being dumped by my one and only love.
“I don’t…understand.” I breath and hear Cam’s sexy laugh under his breath. Why the hell is he here? How can it be Tuesday when it was Friday like five seconds ago?
When we get to the end of my development we have to wait at the red light, he put the car in park so he doesn’t have to push the brake pedal – like usual – and leans across the seat, over to me with a smile on his face and a little bit of scruff on his jaw, he didn’t shave today…but when I’d seen him earlier he had. “Dawn, I think you must be restless, worried about the test in science on Wednesday, lemme help you calm down babe.” He winks and put his finger under my chin making me look into his pretty blue eyes.
Ugh, why was he torturing me?
Before I can protest his lips brush across mine and hit home, the lip brush is what makes me get going, I lock lips with him and it’s pretty much wonderful.
His lips are chapped – partially because it was winter – but he licks them to soften them up and then he gives me two more soft kisses before the car behind us lays on their horn and makes Cam and me realize the light has turned green.
He put the E-brake back down and puts the shifter in D and speeds through the light, the car behind us doesn’t make it, ha.
Cameron glances over at me from the corner of his eye, “Better?” He asks.
I nod with my head feeling dizzy. But still, he doesn’t make sense. This doesn’t make sense.
I guess he must’ve changed his mind and wants me back but why is he acting like everything’s normal? It sooo isn’t; he has some serious groveling to do. I guess he figured out he has been a god**n moron and wants me back. Good, but what was all thzt business with lying about it being Tuesday and stuff? So weird.
While I let my mind wander we arrive at school. I only notice when we drive over the pot hole that is right in front of our parking space; that’s when I’m sucked out of my own mind. Everyone is here, getting out of their cars or already heading to class cause the bell has already rang. I get out of the car in a daze and Cam takes my hand, I let him, by habit.
We walk through the caf (that was starting to empty out) when I’m rundown by Kayla. “Oh my god Dawny, you’re so late today.” She blurbs and half hugs me casting an eye and a flirty smile at Cam; I have to grit my teeth.
She grabs my other hand and pulls me away from Cameron in the direction of the Art room, “Sorry boyfriend, we’re late.” She calls over her shoulder winking at him.
Oh my god, why was everyone selectively amnesic accept me?
She twines her arm through mine and drags me through the halls. I can hear us being whistled at, (she only hangs with me because I’m popular) as she blabs on and on. “So, oh my god Dawny, Jason from Homeroom asked me out to Spring formal but I totally shot him down. I mean seriously, muah and Jason, talk about ten steps down on the popularity poll, Psh. Oh and Calvin from math took my Geometry test for me so I wouldn’t miss cheer, hehe, Oh! And Mr.—” Blah blah, freakin, blah.
Why have I already heard this entire conversation before? Does she really have nothing better to talk about? Does she seriously think I’m just going to welcome her back with open arms after what she did to me? Ugh. Not happening. She’s just going to have to—
“Hello? Dawny? Did you hear a word I just said?” Kayla asks as we entered the door to Design 1. Mrs. Thome gives us dirty looks as we slide into our seats at our assigned table. “Yea, I was listening.” I say under my breath and then the teacher calls us to attention ready to dish out our next assignment.
“Shhhh!” She yells putting a finger to her mouth, trying to get the rest of the class to be quiet so she can talk, “Okay, so today we’re going to be re-creating famous paintings using cubism.”
Huh?
My hand shoots up before I even decide that I want to ask a question. “Yes Adonia?” Mrs. Thome asks rolling her eyes; she hates to be interrupted.
“Didn’t we already do this project?”
She narrows her eyes at me, “Uh no.”
I nod, “Yea. Yea, we did. Last Tuesday cause I did one of Picasso’s and you gave me a C; which btw totally deserved a B but that’s beside the point.”
“No, last Tuesday you were all finishing your ceramic pigs…” Thome lets the sentence linger, “It was in the lesson plan last Tuesday. Maybe you saw it lying on my desk?”
“Noooo. I already did it.”
“Then you should have waited for the rest of the class Dawn because now you have to re-do it and I won’t allow you to choose a Picasso.”
“Ughhh,” I groan, “You’re not getting it. We all did ‘em. I did Picasso, Kayla did the Mona Lisa, and your example was that one starry night one with the person doing that Home Alone face.”
“How’d you know what my example was?” She asks, eyes becoming sharp.
“Uh, because you showed us!” I yell and everyone in the class is staring at me like I’m crazy, Kayla’s mouthing: “What are you doing?” but I ignore her.
“Someone show Miss Montelongo a Calendar. I think she’s sadly mistaken.” I have obviously gotten on her last nerve. Kayla raises her hand, “Uh, I have one on my cell, can I take it out?”
She nods curtly and Kayla took her EnV out of her imposter D&G bag, pressing buttons until her electron calendar pops up. The date should be, Friday the 28th, I know that. How could I forget the day I’d been dumped on, but when she slides it across the table to me I pick it up but the day that’s highlighted in red says: Tuesday the 22nd. Three days before I’d been broken up with and two days before Cameron and Kayla started acting weird around me.
I feel my stomach start to turn, I feel the cement classroom walls begin to close in on me, I put my hand over my mouth and mumble, “Can I go to the bathroom?”
Mrs. Thome sighs clearly annoyed and says, “Hurry back.”
I shoot up from my seat, grabbing my tote and sprinting out of the classroom, around the corner, into the bathroom and falling to my knees inside one of the stalls. I barely have time to move my hair out of the way before I throw up directly into the toilet. Oh god! What is happening?