She wondered how much the repairs to the coffee shop would cost. Her mind flooded with irrelevant data, as if her head were a trash folder. People buzzed by her, and time ticked on, but she barely noticed. Bystanders swarmed and there were shouts to call an ambulance. The middle-aged lady in the driver’s seat slumped against an airbag, her crisp, blond bob swinging. The drunk driver’s head-on collision with a brick wall missed being a head-on collision with a flesh-and-blood Chloe by approximately three feet. Instead, the Range Rover flew past her and slammed into the side of a coffee shop. She wasn’t even horribly injured-which was a relief, because she spent enough time in hospitals as it was. So when Chloe heard shouts and the screech of tires, and looked to her right, and found a shiny, white Range Rover heading straight for her, her first ridiculous thought was: I’ll die on a Tuesday, and Dani will have to admit that I was right all along.īut in the end, Chloe didn’t actually die. Dani had told Chloe that she was cracked, and that she should try positive affirmations to rid herself of her negative weekday energy. Chloe suspected that day of the week was cursed, but thus far, she’d only shared her suspicions via certain internet forums-and with Dani, the weirdest of her two very weird little sisters. Disturbing things always seemed to happen on Tuesdays. It happened on a Tuesday afternoon, of course.
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