Regret List (10 page)

He spread his arms to either side and attempted to
ride without hands, wobbling back and forth. I was reminded of my
attempt to fly. “Feeling inspired, Paige. I’ve got things to write.
Grab your bike and you can come with.”

I glanced around.
Where
was
my bike,
anyway?
Groaning, I remembered. “My bike’s still in my mom’s
car. I didn’t bother pulling it back out.”

He came to a stop in front of me and gestured at the
back. “Hop on, then.”

I cast a critical glance at the back, where a basket
was meant to be attached. With a sigh, I climbed up behind him,
nearly tipping us both over as I tried to get comfortable. Slipping
my arms around him, I held on tight as he took off down the
driveway, skidding in the dirt. “Be careful!” I yelled.

He either didn’t hear me or chose to ignore me as he
raced down the hill from my house, pedaling hard. Squeezing my eyes
shut, I leaned my forehead against his back, hoping we would make
it to our destination alive. When I heard a crunching sound, I
opened my eyes again, looking around. We were riding over the lava
rocks, on the way up to the butte. Eventually, he made me get off
and we walked up the steep path to the top.

“How was the dance?” he asked as we reached the
summit.

I made a face. “Haven’t you heard everything from the
rumor chain yet?”

“I haven’t heard from you.”

“It was fine,” I said, plopping down on one of the
boulders. “Why do you have to keep such close tabs on me,
anyway?”

He looked irritated at that and sat down across from
me, setting the notebook between us. “Well, you don’t have a big
brother to keep track of you.”

“Big Brother is right,” I grumbled.

He glared again as he opened the notebook. “You need
to write more.”

“Well I was
planning
to, before you snitched
it.”

He silently handed the notebook and a pen to me and I
wrote for a while, the sun warming my head. When I finished, he
took over, only stopping occasionally to ask my opinion on one
thing or another. Mostly, I just stared at the clouds overhead and
thought – about life, Jason, Grace’s mysterious reaction after the
dance, if my mom wondered where I had gone. On that last thought, I
pulled out my phone and texted her, letting her know where I had
gone. When I didn’t receive a reply, I knew I would be walking into
a lecture when I got home. All the more reason to stay out longer.
Setting my phone down beside me, I lay back on the boulder and
closed my eyes.

I must have dozed off at some point, because I
suddenly felt Asher shaking my shoulder. I brushed him off and
touched my cheek to make sure I hadn’t been drooling. By his smirk,
I knew I hadn’t been subtle enough. “What do you want?” He just
gestured at my phone and I picked it up, trying to see who was
calling. My eyes still blurry with sleep, I answered it blindly.
“Hello?” The line was silent for a moment and I almost pulled the
phone away, when I heard someone start to say something and then
stop. “Who is this?” I asked in confusion.

“It’s Grace,” a small voice answered.

“Grace! What’s going on? Have you heard from Sammy or
Kandice?”

I heard Asher groan. “Ew, girl talk,” he mumbled.

“No. I think one of them might have left a message,”
she trailed off.

“What happened last night?” I asked in confusion.
“You seemed really freaked out. Look, Kandice wants us to break up
with everyone. I’m not going to, but you can if you want.” I saw
Asher give me a sharp look, then go back to writing.

“I-I don’t know,” she stuttered.

“Well, don’t let the girls bully you into anything.
You should do what you want.”

She gave a weird, short laugh. “That’s easy for you
to say.”

Easy to do what I want? I wish!
I shook my
head. “Well, I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“Sure,” she said and I heard the click of the phone.
Only after she hung up did I realize that she hadn’t explained why
she was so shaken up after the dance or why she had even called me
in the first place. Asher stood up as I slid the phone back into my
pocket and with a glance, I saw his mood had darkened. “I’m going
to head out,” he said. “Want a ride back?”

“Nah, that’s okay. See you later,” I replied,
mystified. He tossed me the notebook and took off on his bike
without a backward glance. Bewildered by the world in general, I
started the long walk home, dreading the lecture that was sure to
come from my mom. What had started as a carefree, sunny Saturday
now seemed like a confusing mess where I was the bad guy at every
turn. Thinking of bad guys reminded me of the story. If I was a
character in there, I would be the girl – sworn to protect one
person, blind to everyone else around her. I wished for a moment
that I could be her, that someone would come along to show me what
I was supposed to do, who I was supposed to be. Sighing, I chided
myself for being so silly and forced myself to drop the idea. She
was a character in a story. Life just wasn’t like that.

My mom’s car was back in the driveway when I finally
reached home and I reluctantly let myself in through the front
door. “Hi Mom!” I called.

“Paige? Could you come here a moment?”

Cringing, I followed her voice to the kitchen.
“What’s up?”

“What were you doing out and about so early on a
Saturday morning?” she asked with a fake cheeriness that set my
teeth on edge.

I set the notebook down on the counter while I poured
myself some water and I noticed her eyes follow it warily. “One of
my friends came by the house, so we were just walking around
outside for a bit.”

“Asher.”

“Asher,” I confirmed.

She changed tactics. “How was the dance last
night?”

I shrugged. “It was alright. There was music. We
danced.”

“Was Asher there?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Mom. Asher wasn’t there. Look,
do you actually want something or is this just a pointless
interrogation?” Her face changed instantly, looking hurt, and my
heart twisted in guilt. Maybe she really was just interested in my
life. I tried to think of a way to assuage the situation and came
up empty-handed. “Look Mom, I’ve got stuff to do. Yell if you need
me.” Grabbing the notebook, I hurried to my room, disgusted with
the way I had handled things. Some days, it seemed like I just
couldn’t get anything right.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Asher and I kept
writing, I often hung out at Jason’s house after school, and my
friends kept trying to get Grace and me to break up with our
boyfriends. Oh, that’s right, Grace didn’t break up with Patrick
after all. That’s actually what led to Regret #3: Ignoring all the
signs that something was really, really wrong. Grace and Patrick
were at the heart of that particular regret.

We all expected her to break up with him at the first
opportunity, but he continued to eat lunch with our group, hunching
over her with those stupid sunglasses still hiding his eyes. Even
Jason didn’t eat lunch with us. I didn’t blame him in the
slightest. It was super awkward with only half of our group broken
up. But Patrick was constantly hovering over Grace and he never
seemed to let go of her. His hand was always resting on her
shoulder, or his arm was pressed up against hers, or he had his
head buried in her hair, kissing at her neck. It made for a pretty
weird lunch situation, but Grace seemed the most discontent about
it. Over those few weeks, she continued to get skinner and gave up
all pretense of eating or even bringing a lunch to school. There
was no way she was happy with him.

So why didn’t she break up with him?

Well, that was the main sign that I should have paid
attention to. Instead, I brushed it off. We all did. Kandice spent
her time texting with college-guy, Sammy blabbed on about cute guys
in her classes, I wrote in the notebook, and Grace was left with
nobody to turn to. I’m the most to blame. I knew I was her main
confidante of the group, but with the Jason and Asher mess, I
hardly gave her a second thought. Yep, this is one of those truths
that makes me look pretty bad. I was a lousy friend back then. I
only hope that what happened next makes up for it a little bit.

As winter approached and we began looking forward to
Christmas break, we actually had a pleasant lunch one day without
Patrick. I’m not sure if he was out sick or just skipping school,
but for once, it was just us girls. Sammy and I were flicking a
crouton at each other when Kandice snapped her phone shut and we
all turned her way. She only put her phone down when she had
something especially important to say. “Anyone up for a party this
weekend?” she asked slyly.

“Ooooh!” Sammy immediately clapped her hands to her
mouth. “I haven’t heard anyone mention any parties this weekend.
Who’s throwing it?”

Kandice shot her a look. “This isn’t some baby high
school party, Samantha. It’s at the college. One of Christopher’s
friends is throwing an end-of-term bash.”

“Christopher?” I asked.

Sammy raised her eyebrows at me behind Kandice’s back
and glanced meaningfully at the phone.
Ohh, college-guy.
“Yes, Christopher.” She pronounced his name in a way that was
clearly mocking my confusion. “Anyway, we’re invited and one of his
friends said he’d pick us up on Saturday and drive us there.”

“Can I bring Patrick?” Grace asked.

“Seriously?” Kandice asked. Even I groaned inwardly.
I grew less fond of that guy every time I saw him and he seemed to
tag along with us everywhere. I couldn’t figure out what Grace saw
in him. She seemed to wither away in his presence and simply turn
into his armrest.

Grace shrugged. “It’s just – he doesn’t like it when
we go places without him. He worries about me being around other
guys.”

I almost started laughing before I realized she was
serious. Sammy
did
burst out laughing. “So what?” she said.
“There are going to be college guys there, Grace. Why limit
yourself to Patrick?”

Kandice was already texting again. “I’ll tell them to
pick us up from the school. Just give your parents some cover story
and meet here.” She glared at Grace. “And you can tell Patrick that
there isn’t room for him in the car.”

I had no intention of bringing Jason with me, but it
isn’t for the reasons you think. I didn’t want to get hit on or
drunk or anything crazy like that. But come on, every girl hears
about these crazy college parties and wonders what they’re really
like. I’ve seen enough movies about them. I wanted to see what one
was really like, strictly as an observer. Maybe I could incorporate
it into the book, somehow.

So, come Saturday evening, we all slunk off to the
school. The first snow had fallen a few days earlier and my boots
crunched through the icy top layer. I had told my mom that I was
going to a sleepover at Sammy’s. Never mind that I had never gone
to a sleepover before in my life, she was so excited I was hanging
out with someone other than Asher that she didn’t question me too
thoroughly. When I jumped up onto the brick wall that surrounded
the school, I saw the others waiting further on ahead. I spied bare
legs and high heeled shoes peeking out from under Sammy and
Kandice’s long wool coats, but to my relief, Grace was dressed a
lot like me, in a sweater, jeans, and thick snow boots.

We stood silently for a short time in the quickly
fading light, quickly becoming impatient as the cold crept through
the layers. Finally, Kandice yanked out her phone and started
texting. “They’re on their way,” she finally mumbled.

I felt my own phone buzz in my pocket and I pulled it
out. It was Asher, asking what I was up to.

Infiltrating a college party,
I texted back.
Should be good research for a drunken tavern scene.

Don’t do anything crazy,
he returned.

Never.
I thought about that for a moment,
before stuffing my hands back in my pockets. Wasn’t this whole
thing kind of crazy? I could picture myself as I had been almost
exactly one year ago, a naïve little thirteen-year-old at an early
holiday party at Asher’s house. His mom had invited a bunch of
neighbors and family over and Asher’s brothers had invited all
their friends over. We were sitting around at dinner and everyone
was talking loudly over each other as Christmas music played in the
background. For some reason, a bunch of his aunts and uncles
thought it was a great time to start asking Asher about school and
about me, and I knew there was no way he could hear them over all
the noise. It didn’t help that they kept turning and talking to
each other, making lip-reading near impossible.

I was helpless to intervene as I knew from experience
that he didn’t want my help in negotiating conversations. I only
watched his frustration grow as he kept asking them to repeat what
they were saying. Finally, he abruptly left the table and headed
upstairs to his room. His mom made eye-contact with me from across
the table and I knew she wanted me to follow him, just to make sure
he was alright.

I excused myself from the table and followed his path
upstairs. His door was closed, but I let myself in anyway and shut
it behind me. I found him sitting at his computer and he scowled
over at me in a very clear
what-do-you-want
sort of way.

“Hey, I don’t want to chatter away with all your
relatives any more than you do!” I protested, sitting down on his
bed. “I only came to hang out with you.” He twirled around on his
desk chair and slowly came to a stop, facing me. “What?” I asked,
but he only shrugged. “So what do you want to do?” He still didn’t
answer and I started to get irritated. “Hey, talk to me!”

“Do you ever get mad?” he asked.

“What? Yes, I’m mad right now. I hate when you won’t
answer me.”

His mouth twitched as he tried not to smile. He
always got a kick out of seeing me worked up. “No, I mean, if you
have to repeat yourself. For me.”