I turn on the engine and listen to three more songs from my playlist. But with each song, I’m feeling less and less like I’m on top of the world and more and more like I’ve made a huge mistake.
I can’t stop thinking about Owen’s injured face when I ditched him at the carnival. When I told him I’d text him later and then ran off with Tristan.
The memory of it now is like a punch in the chest.
What if that was my last chance?
What if the universe only gave me one more day to get it right and I failed?
What if I wake up tomorrow and it’s Tuesday and Owen wants nothing to do with me anymore?
What if—
My phone beeps. I fumble to pick it up and swipe it on, my fingers trembling.
Owen: I’m in your room. Where are you?
I don’t even take the time to tap out a response. I throw the phone onto the passenger seat and peel out of the driveway. I get to my house in a record fifty-three seconds. I park at the curb, scramble out of the car and up the tree in our front yard.
Of course, I could use the door.
It’s my own stupid house.
But I don’t want to risk bumping into anyone. I don’t want to talk to anyone.
The tree is a lot harder to climb than I’ve ever given Owen credit for. It takes core muscles that I just don’t have and balance that I never thought I needed. I look across to the window. It’s already open. Apparently this is how Owen got inside as well. Holding on to the trunk for as long as possible, I shimmy along the branch that connects with the house, trying not to look down for fear of losing my nerve. That’s when I realize the branch I’m standing on is a lot lower than the windowsill. I peer beneath my feet, my vision blurring when I see how far above the ground I am.
Why didn’t my parents build a one-story house?
I suck in a breath, rest my hands on the windowsill, and jump, using all my strength to hoist myself up and scramble inside. I tumble onto the floor of my bedroom with an oomph.
Owen jumps up from my bed and runs over to me, helping me up. “Are you okay? What on earth are you doing? Why didn’t you use the door?”
“All we ever really get is today,” I say breathlessly.
His forehead furrows. “What?”
“That was my fortune. It said, ‘All we ever really get is today.’”
“Your fortune cookie was empty. So was mine.”
I shake my head, still trying to catch my breath. “No, it wasn’t. I mean, yes, today it was, but yesterday, it wasn’t. And the day before that it wasn’t. But none of those other days matter, because all we ever really get is today.”
“Objection,” Owen says playfully. “Witness is acting irrational.”
“Objection,” I counter. “Irrelevant.”
“Objection. Absolutely relevant.”
“Permission to approach the bench?” I ask.
Owen scowls. “Huh?”
But I’m already moving. The gap between us is already closing. My arms are already wrapping around his neck, pulling him down to me. My lips already know exactly where to go.
It doesn’t take long before he’s kissing me back. Before his hands are on my waist, lifting me off the ground.
We topple backward, landing on the bed. It’s clumsy and uncoordinated and us.
Owen pulls back and looks at me.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he whispers, stroking my face.
I smile. “No.”
“A bloody long time.”
He dives for my lips again, kissing me hard.
And it’s good.
And it’s like falling.
And I hear music. The kind you can dance to. The kind that drowns out the rest of the world. Because when you find what you’re looking for—when you finally get it right—everything else is just noise.
Epilogue
7:04 a.m.
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
Bleary and disoriented, I pull my heavy eyes open and stare at my phone. It’s sitting on my nightstand, the screen lit up from an incoming text.
My hands are shaking with anticipation as I reach for it and swipe it on.
When I see the message waiting for me, a heavy weight drops into the pit of my stomach, making me want to throw up.
I can’t stop thinking about last night.
No. It can’t be. This isn’t happening. It’s a dream. It’s just a bad dream.
I slap my cheeks, trying to wake myself up.
Please, I beg silently, then I say it aloud, “Please!”
I shut my eyes tight, then open them again. The screen slowly comes back into focus. That’s when I first notice the sender’s name.
Owen.
I bolt upright.
Owen?
I blink three times and look at it again, certain I must have misread it.
But the name doesn’t change.
Owen is the one texting me? Not Tristan?
I glance around my room, searching for evidence, but everything looks the same. I paw at the screen of my phone, scrambling to get to my calendar. I need to see the date. I need to be one hundred percent sure. But before I can open it, another text arrives.
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
With my heart in my throat, I click the message. It’s from Owen. And it says:
Happy Tuesday.
Acknowledgments
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
Jessica Brody: A million billion gazillion thanks to Janine O’Malley, Brendan Deneen, and Mitchell Kreigman for letting me tell Ellie’s story to the world.
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
Jessica Brody: Crazy-huge and blindingly shiny thanks to Jim McCarthy, a superhero in disguise as an agent. (Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.)
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
Jessica Brody: Thank you to the stellar hardworking people at MacKids who keep believing in me book after book and who keep making it all look so easy (even though I know it’s not)—Mary Van Akin, Angie Chen, Joy Peskin, Allison Verost, Molly Brouillette, Angus Killick, Simon Boughton, Jon Yaged, Lauren Burniac, Lucy Del Priore, Liz Fithian, Katie Halata, Holly Hunnicutt, Kathryn Little, Stephanie McKinley, Mark Von Bargen, and Caitlin Sweeny.
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
Jessica Brody: Elizabeth Clark, you continue to blow my mind with your staggeringly brilliant cover designs. You really outdid yourself this time! Thank you!
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
Jessica Brody: Thank you to Terra Brody, who makes everything more stylish … even my characters. And to my insanely supportive parents, Michael and Laura Brody.
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
Jessica Brody: Squishy hugs to my pups, Honey, Gracie, Bula, and Baby! If you don’t understand why they deserve their own thanks, follow me on Instagram. You’ll get it.
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
Jessica Brody: As always, thanks to Charlie. If I had a week of Mondays, I’d spend them all with you.
Bloop-dee-dee-bloop-bloop-bing!
Jessica Brody: The biggest, bubbliest, giddiest thank-you goes to my readers. There will never be a day of the week when I’m not grateful for you. There will never be a book where I don’t tell you that.
ALSO BY JESSICA BRODY
The Unremembered Trilogy
Unremembered
Unforgotten
Unchanged
52 Reasons to Hate My Father
My Life Undecided
The Karma Club
About the Author
Jessica Brody knew from a young age that she wanted to be a writer. She started “self-publishing” her own books when she was seven years old, binding the pages together with cardboard, wallpaper samples and electrical tape. Brody graduated from Smith College in 2001 with a double major in Economics and French and a minor in Japanese. She went to work for MGM Studios as a Manager of Acquisitions and Business Development, and th
en, in 2005, she quit her job to follow her dream of becoming a published author. Brody is the author of two novels for adults—The Fidelity Files and Love Under Cover—and the young adult novels The Karma Club and My Life Undecided. Jessica’s books are published in over ten foreign countries including the U.K., France, Germany, Czech Republic, Russia, Brazil, China, Portugal, and Taiwan. She now works full time as a writer and producer, and currently splits her time between Los Angeles and Colorado. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
THE FIRST MONDAY
Mountain High, Valley Low
Talking ’bout My Generation
The Magic’s in the Music
You Better Slow Your Mustang Down
They Call Me Mellow Yellow (Quite Rightly)
It’s Easy to Trace the Tracks of My Tears
Everybody’s Talkin’ at Me
Yummy Yummy Yummy
I Fall to Pieces
Who’s Bending Down to Give Me a Rainbow
I Can’t Help Myself
The First Cut Is the Deepest
I Say a Little Prayer
The Way We Were (Part 1)
THE SECOND MONDAY
Let the Sunshine In
If You Believe In Magic, Don’t Bother to Choose
Suspicious Minds
Oh, I Believe In Yesterday
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
I Can’t Get No Satisfaction
Take a Sad Song and Make It Better
Worryin’ ’bout the Way Things Might Have Been
I Fought the Law and the Law Won
Daydream Believer
It’s the Same Old Song
Come See About Me
The Way We Were (Part 2)
THE THIRD MONDAY
The Girl with Kaleidoscope Eyes
Now I’m a Believer
Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head
Oh Happy Day
Do-Wah-Diddy
Light My Fire
There! I’ve Said It Again
Stand By Your Man
My Little Runaway
I Saw Her Standing There
Take Another Little Piece of My Heart
Only the Lonely
The Way We Were (Part 3)
THE FOURTH MONDAY
Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag
Get Back to Where You Once Belonged
Born to Be Wild
Keep Me Hanging On
And Then He Kissed Me
Time Is on My Side
I Get Around
My Boyfriend’s Back
Unchained Melody
Come Together Right Now
I Think We’re Alone Now
There’s a Moon Out Tonight
She’s Got a Ticket to Ride
Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?
The Way We Were (Part 4)
THE FIFTH MONDAY
Here I Go Again
Good Golly, Miss Molly
There’s a Bad Moon on the Rise
Hold On! I’m Comin’
We Gotta Get Out of This Place
Money (That’s What I Want)
It’s Been a Hard Day’s Night
What a Wonderful World
I Second That Emotion
The Way We Were (Part 5)
THE SIXTH MONDAY
I Look Inside Myself and See My Heart Is Black
Break On Through
God Only Knows What I’d Be Without You
The Way We Were (Part 6)
THE SEVENTH MONDAY
Take a Sad Song and Make It Better
It’s Gonna Work Out Fine
Walkin’ Back to Happiness
Black Magic Woman
Break On Through (to the Other Side)
Something Tells Me I’m into Something Good
Wooly Bully
Wouldn’t It Be Nice
When You Change with Every New Day
Build Me Up Buttercup
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Jessica Brody
About the Author
Copyright
Farrar Straus Giroux Books for Young Readers
175 Fifth Avenue, New York 10010
Text copyright © 2016 Jessica Brody Entertainment, LLC
All rights reserved
First hardcover edition, 2016
eBook edition, August 2016
fiercereads.com
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Brody, Jessica.
Title: A week of Mondays / Jessica Brody.
Description: First edition.|New York: Farrar Straus Giroux, 2016.|Summary: Sixteen-year-old Ellison Sparks keeps reliving the terrible Monday on which her boyfriend, Tristan, breaks up with her and no matter how hard she tries, she cannot seem to set things right.
Identifiers: LCCN 2015022212|ISBN 9780374382704 (hardback)|ISBN 9780374382728 (e-book)
Subjects:|CYAC: Dating (Social customs)—Fiction.|Friendship—Fiction.|Supernatural—Fiction.|High schools—Fiction.|Schools—Fiction.|BISAC: JUVENILE FICTION / Love & Romance.|JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Emotions & Feelings.|JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance.
Classification: LCC PZ7.B786157 Wee 2016|DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015022212
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945 ext. 5442 or by e-mail at [email protected].
eISBN 9780374382728
A Week of Mondays Page 32
