Regret List (5 page)

We never did anything
bad
, really. Okay, one
time we snuck into an old, abandoned house and threw bricks through
the windows and booked it when some adults heard the glass breaking
and came to see what was happening, but nothing really bad. Mostly
we just built forts out of brush and dug holes in the dirt. But
then one night, we made a mistake. It was evening and the coyotes
were beginning to howl, so we decided to try to find them. There
wasn’t much danger in that, really. We were big enough that the
coyotes wouldn’t attack us and they still have a healthy fear of
humans out here.

The problem was, we were wandering through the woods
and didn’t realize how quickly it would get dark. Asher was relying
on me to hear where the coyote howls were coming from and I guess
he expected me to notice where I was going. I didn’t. We wandered
around for ages out there in the woods as the sun dropped behind
the hills and stars came out. I remember I was crying because Asher
was mad at me for getting us lost and I was scared we were going to
die out there.

That seemed to soften him up, because he finally
turned to me and shook his head, reaching out to wipe off my
tear-streaked cheeks.
No more crying
, I knew he meant.

“I don’t want to die out here,” I sobbed.

He rolled his eyes and finger-spelled something:
trickster
. I instantly understood what he meant. A few
months back, we had been reading a bunch of Native American
stories. Coyote was the one the other animals hated. He was a
know-it-all, bragging prankster, always making the others look like
fools or tricking them into giving him something he wanted. But, he
was never mean on purpose. He just had a better sense of humor than
the other animals. He also couldn’t stand by and watch another
animal in misery. The story that first came to mind was when he
stole fire to give to the humans because we didn’t have any fur and
were freezing.

I moved closer to Asher and wrapped my hand around
his. “They won’t let us die?”

He shook his head. “Keep following,” he said.

And so we did. We followed the howls of the coyotes
for what seemed like hours, but eventually, we saw lights and
stumbled back into town, exhausted. We parted ways and ran for our
homes and when I finally leapt up the stairs and threw open my
door, I found my mom in the kitchen, talking on the phone. She
glanced at me and quickly told the person on the other line, “Never
mind, she’s here.” And then she went into what I like to call
“harpy-mode.”

It was a strange mixture of screaming, crying, and
hugging me all at once. She was in this crazy whirlwind of emotions
with me at the center, doing my best to stay grounded. I
occasionally managed to get a word in edgewise, trying to explain
what had happened, how I had got us lost. She was angry that
Asher’s parents let us go out alone, angry that I had been so
careless, angry that Asher hadn’t taken care of me, but none of
that is what made her disapprove of our friendship.

It was when I tried to explain to her about the
coyote story, how I knew we were safe after that, that’s when
things changed.

“What do you mean, you knew you were safe?” she asked
with suspicion creeping into her voice. “What do stories have to do
with anything?”

I sighed. I felt amazing after everything that
happened. I was happy, exhilarated that we had made it home safe
after our long adventure and I felt a kinship with Asher that I had
never experienced before. “Coyote helped us get home, Mom. He
watched over us, after he decided he had tricked us enough.”

“God helped you get home, Paige.” There was danger in
her voice then, but I ignored it.

“No, it was coyote,” I insisted. “You don’t get it.
Asher’s the only one who understands because he was there. He’s the
one that reminded me about coyote.”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the nicest thing to say after
I scared my mom half to death, but I was angry that she wouldn’t
believe me, didn’t understand what I had felt out there in the
desert. Since my dad died, we had been going to church more often
and I never felt God’s presence there, like my mom did. This was my
first experience with actually believing there was a higher power
looking out for me - and it wasn’t God.

“Asher understands more than you ever will.” I was on
a roll. “God never did anything for me. Coyote saved me and I know
it.” I stormed off to my room without giving my mom a chance to
reply, giving my door a hearty slam. It all seems so childish now,
but well, I was a kid. After that, she started enrolling me in all
kinds of stupid activities. Ballet, gymnastics, pottery, piano,
soccer, everything. It wasn’t until I complained that I never had
time to hang out with Asher that I realized what was going on. When
I refused to go to any more after-school classes, she started
trying to get me to invite my friends from school over.

After a few weeks of that, I snapped. “Why won’t you
let me hang out with Asher?” I yelled, in full-on tantrum mode.

She sighed, playing the cool-and-collected mom. “I
don’t mind if you play with Asher,” she replied. “I just want you
to make other friends as well. It’s not good for you to pour all
your time into just one person. What happens if he moves away or
makes other friends?”

The thought of Asher abandoning me drove me into a
further rage. “You just hate him. You don’t want me to be
happy.”

She looked up at the ceiling, probably counting to
ten in her head. “I don’t hate him, Paige. I just think you need to
take some time apart.”

“I knew it!” I jumped up from the table where we had
been sitting, eating dinner. “You can’t tell me who my friends are.
I don’t care what you think.”

“Is this a romantic thing?” She sounded completely
exasperated.

I glared at her.
Does it matter
, I
finger-spelled, then turned and ran for my room, slamming the door
hard enough that it wedged itself halfway into my room and my mom
had to yank it back into place so I could leave again. In the end,
she didn’t dictate who I could hang out with and I just stopped
telling her about Asher. That was around the time that we stopped
really talking about life. So, that’s why I didn’t tell her about
the book Asher and I were planning to write.

On the first Friday of high school, Regret #2 was set
into motion. Sammy and Kandice had approached our counter-half, the
boy group, earlier in the day and invited them to eat lunch with
us. To my surprise, Grace was even more apprehensive about it than
I was. I ended up having to practically drag her to lunch, which
honestly wasn’t all that difficult. She looked even skinnier and
sicklier than when I first saw her on Monday.

Sammy was giddy with excitement when we finally
arrived. The boys hadn’t shown up yet and she was looking in a
little mirror, frantically applying make-up. Kandice had even put
away her phone for once and was combing through her hair with her
fingers. “There you are,” she said in irritation when she saw us.
“You better get ready. The boys will be here any minute.”

Grace and I grimaced at each other and honestly, I
thought she looked slightly panicked. “I don’t have any makeup or
anything to put on,” she said in almost a whisper.

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t need anything. You look
awesome, Grace.”

She gave me a slight smile. “Yeah, right.”

I pulled her down next to me and forced a sandwich
into her hand. “Eat. You need food.”

She shook her head and handed it back. “No thanks,
I’m not hungry.”

I didn’t get a chance to refute her, because at that
moment, the boys arrived. I glanced over their faces and my gaze
rested on one, the only one wearing glasses, as the pieces fell
into place. I shot to my feet. “You!” I shouted, looking into the
face of Jason Stromsen. “
You’re
Jason?”

He looked horrified as he recognized me and brought
his hands up defensively, waving them at me. “No, wait!” he
protested.

“You tried to fix me up with
him
?” I knew all
the boys and girls from both groups (along with probably everyone
else in the hall) were staring at me. “I would never-“ I
spluttered.

Kandice elbowed me hard in the side, stopping my
rant. “Would you shut it?” she hissed.

“I am so sorry,” Jason managed to get in, speaking
quickly. “I swear I wasn’t laughing at your friend. I was laughing
at the teacher and it totally came out wrong.”

I turned away, but it was enough to give me
pause.

“Well, uh, do you want to sit down?” Sammy asked the
boys, laughing awkwardly. They did so, giving me a wide berth,
except for Jason.

“I wanted to talk to you sooner,” he explained. “I
felt horrible about it all, but I’m not very good at talking to
girls. Look, if you don’t want to go out with me, I totally
understand.”

I finally turned back to face him and sat down, arms
crossed. He sank down across from me, looking terrified. Sighing, I
shook my head. “I accept your apology, but I do not agree to go out
with you.” His face fell and I realized how it would look – being
the one guy to get turned down in his group. That wasn’t enough to
change my mind, however. “I’ll still hang out with you guys, but we
are not together together. And if I hear any rumors that we are
going out, I won’t even do that.”

He nodded quickly. “It’s okay. That’s fine.”

Content that we had gotten that out of the way, I
really looked at him for the first time. It’s true – he was cute,
just like Sammy assured me. I had to give him that. His hair was
darker than Asher’s and he had the faintest speckling of freckles
across his nose. I wondered for a moment how I got matched up with
him, anyway. Was he the leftover? Did we get matched up because we
both wore glasses? Or did my friends honestly think we were a good
match?

Whatever the reason, I decided to make the best of it
and half-heartedly tried to make small-talk with him while the
minutes until the end of lunch slowly ticked away. I don’t even
remember what we talked about. Classes probably. The only part I
remember clearly is at the end of lunch, after the bell rang.

“Hey, so we’re going bowling this weekend if you
girls want to come,” one of the other boys said as we all picked up
our backpacks and packed up our lunches. Everyone already knew the
answer except for my response, so they all looked at me. I swung my
bag over my shoulder and rubbed my forehead.

“Yeah, sure,” I finally said, catching Jason’s smile
as I turned away. “I’ll go.”

At that point in time, I had no intention of ever
really going out with Jason. Group dates (and I use the word date
loosely) were one thing. Actually being his girlfriend? No way.
Never. Except, I didn’t know the whole story yet. There was one
little fact I learned during that bowling date that changed
everything – something that completely changed the situation.

Saturday night, Sammy’s mom picked us all up and
drove us to the bowling alley. The car was cramped and I was
smashed up against the door in the backseat, next to Grace. She was
biting her fingernails until I swatted them out of her mouth.

“Calm down,” I chided. “This is not a big deal.”

She looked at me in disbelief. “Aren’t you nervous?”
she asked.

Kandice, who was sitting on her other side, elbowed
her hard. “Shut up,” she hissed. “As far as Sammy’s mom knows, it’s
just the four of us.”

I had never met Sammy’s mom before, but she
intimidated me. She was one of those very perfectly dressed,
prim-and-proper women with deep red lipstick and lots of jewelry
that clinked when she moved around. I could imagine how she would
disapprove of a bunch of fourteen-year-olds going on a group date
and I slunk down in my seat a little. Fortunately for us, she
seemed to be paying more attention to her cell phone than our
conversation.

When we were dropped off at the bowling alley, I
glanced around at the other girls, feeling self-conscious. They all
seemed awfully dressed up to be going bowling and I looked
disdainfully down at my own hoodie and jeans. I was a little glad
Kandice had interrupted Grace in the car, because I didn’t want to
admit that I
was
nervous. As far as I was concerned, there
was nothing between Jason and me, but still. It was my first
kind-of date and I was beginning to worry that I might be the ugly
one of the group.

I slunk in behind my friends as we walked into the
alley and they spotted the boys, already changing their shoes.
Sammy and Kandice immediately plopped down next to their dates, but
Grace and I hung back, exchanging an anxious glance. I think I was
almost more nervous for her than for myself. I had a creepy feeling
about the guy she had been paired up with. He just seemed off. He
was lanky, talked a little too loudly, and had a tendency to wear
sunglasses all the time, even in a bowling alley at night. There’s
just something I don’t trust about a guy who I can’t make eye
contact with. For a moment, I was glad that I had been matched up
with Jason, instead of this other guy.

I urged Grace forward, then approached Jason.
“Hello,” I said coldly.

“Hey!” He grinned up at me and tilted his head toward
the counter. “Go get your shoes. I’ll start entering in names.”

When we returned from paying and getting our shoes, I
noticed that he had spelled my name wrong up on the monitor.
P-A-G-E. I thought of Asher and smiled a little, then forced him
out of my mind in order to get through the night.

“So how did you four meet?” I asked Jason as we
waited for our turn.

“I met Robert and Matt back in elementary school.” He
gestured toward Sammy and Kandice’s dates. “I was really messed up
back then and those two were the only ones who could calm me down
and keep me out of trouble. We met Patrick only a couple years ago
when he moved up from California.” He pointed at Grace’s date, who
had enveloped her tiny frame in his arm and pulled her up close
against him. She was looking down at her lap, her expression
terrified. Looking at her like that, I wanted to go over to her, to
do or say something, but Jason tugged on my arm. “C’mon Paige,
we’re up.”