Regret List

by Billings, Jessica

  My tears streaked back, forced by the wind to the sides of my face and I tried to convince myself that it was just the cold air, but deep down, I knew better. I also knew it was going to get worse before it got better.

  Chapter 10

  Someone unexpected contacted me soon after that: Caden. I was eating lunch in my usual spot when I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye and heard him sink down next to me. “Hey,” I said, noticing the awkward way he sat with a large empty space between us, probably embarrassed to be seen with a freshman.

  “Hey.” He watched me eat for a few moments, then rustled around unhappily. “What in the world is going on with you?” he asked finally.

  “Uhhh,” I looked around. “I’m eating lunch?”

  He gave me a cross look and rubbed at the floor with his untied shoe. “No, you’re like, having some sort of issue with Asher. I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but you’d better fix things with him soon.”

  I stared at him, wondering what he was getting at. “Are you trying to help?”

  He climbed to his feet and stared down at me, his messy hair lit up by the fluorescent lights. “No, I’m trying to warn you.” And then he stalked off, hands deep in his pockets.

  “Very weird,” I mumbled, stuffing the last of my sandwich in my mouth as the bell rang. I wasn’t sure what Caden was trying to warn me about, but it worried me. For the rest of the day, I wondered what could be going on with Asher. I even waited at his locker at the end of the day, hoping I could finally talk to him and clear the air, but he only glanced at me, grabbed his books, and hurried off.

  “Hey!” I protested, dashing after him.

  “What?” He slung his backpack over his shoulder and I had to dodge to avoid it.

  “I just-“ I wasn’t sure what to say. “We haven’t talked in a while.” He was walking way too fast and we were already exiting the building. “I just wanted to know what’s up.” He didn’t pause or even look at me. “Here!” I thrust the notebook in front of him and he took it wordlessly. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” I tried to act cheerful, like nothing was wrong, even as I stopped and watched him walk away without even saying goodbye.

  There was only one time before that even came close to the way we were acting. Back in elementary school, we had a big disagreement. It’s going to sound so stupid now, but it was a big deal back then, and it went on for weeks. See, I used to have this giant orange goldfish, Mr. Sparkle. I loved that big guy. When my mom and I went on vacation to California during spring break, Asher and his mom house-sat for us and took care of the mail, the plants, and of course, Mr. Sparkle. By the end of the trip, I was sunburned, hungry, and exhausted, and I whined the entire car ride home.

  My mom was totally fed up with me, but when we finally pulled up to our house, we saw Asher’s mom’s car was already there. They were probably taking care of a few last things before we arrived. My mom warned me to mind my manners, but telling a cranky eight-year-old not to be mean is like telling a fire not to burn. That’s just what they do. We walked into the house and it was obvious Asher was excited to see me, but all I wanted was to be left alone.

  With Asher trailing behind me, I went to my bedroom to put my bags down. I think he was asking me how my trip was, but something caught my eye as I threw everything down on my bed. Mr. Sparkle was floating upside-down in his little bowl. I threw an accusing finger at Asher. “You…you killed Mr. Sparkle!” I hollered, stomping my feet. Before you start laughing, let me remind you: This was only a little over a year after my dad died and I still didn’t deal with death very well. Asher just froze in the doorway, not daring to move, but I saw his eyes flick to the bowl. “You see?” I scooped the poor fish out of his bowl and held him out to Asher. “You murdered him!”

  “I-I didn’t!” he protested. “I fed him and everything!”

  “How much?” I yelled, plopping Mr. Sparkle back in his bowl, where he slowly spun in the ripples. “Show me how much you fed him!”

  Hesitantly, Asher took the fish food and pulled out a pinch, showing it to me. “See?”

  Our parents must have heard the commotion, because as I hit his hand, sending the fish food fluttering to the floor, I heard my mom gasp. “Paige!”

  But I wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot. “You’re nothing but a fat, stupid loser!” I bellowed, shoving Asher.

  “That’s it!” My mom grabbed me by the arm, hauling me backward, apologizing profusely to Asher and his mom. Asher still looked stunned, eyes wide. I was in a total frenzy then, throwing everything to the floor that I could get my hands on. His mom just quietly led him away and I heard their car back out of the driveway. My mom tried to grab the fish bowl and take it away, but I screamed and clung onto it, spilling all the water and Mr. Sparkle to the floor.

  Exasperated, my mom left the room, closing the door behind her as I continued to rage. I eventually wore myself out and fell asleep on the damp floor, next to Mr. Sparkle. When I woke up in the morning, he was gone, but my anger wasn’t. I refused to speak to Asher for weeks, even after he made me an apology card and his mom tried to take me to the pet store to buy me a new fish. It wasn’t until my mom told me I was being a spoiled brat and a horrible friend that I began to relent. Not right away, of course, but that night as I tried to fall asleep, the guilt hit me. I honestly doubted that Asher killed my fish, but I felt like I needed someone to blame. The next morning, I got my mom to drive me over to his house to apologize. And just like that, we were back to being best friends.

  This time, at nearly twice the age we were before, I didn’t think it was going to be quite that easy. I’ve noticed that each time I double in age, life seems to get four times more complicated.

  Like I mentioned before, it’s not like Jason was a bad guy. He was attentive, sweet, made me laugh, and was a really nice guy. I’m not going to lie: I liked him. He was the first one that I could really relate to about my dad, in a weird way. I tried to avoid the subject of my dad, so I wouldn’t have to tell him too much, but some of the things he said just made so much sense to me. When he told me that instead of having imaginary friends as a kid, he had an imaginary mom who followed him around, I got it. It made me feel like there was someone else in the world who really understood what it was like.

  But at the same time, all the little things started to drive me crazy. I didn’t like the way he expected me to call him, instead of the other way around. I didn’t like his horrible spelling and messy handwriting. I didn’t like the way he spoke slightly too softly, so it was hard to understand him. And I didn’t like how he crept his hand slowly closer during movies, like I wouldn’t notice when he finally put his hand around mine. They were all such dumb, little things, but the longer I was with him, the more little things I noticed. I think when you’re really in love with someone, those little things all become forgivable: little annoyances that make you roll your eyes, but you learn to live with them. For me, they just drove me insane and occupied my attention every moment I was with him.

  To compensate, I tried even harder to be a good girlfriend. I wrote him sweet texts before I fell asleep, I bought him little trinkets when I was out at the store, and I held his hand when we were on dates. No matter what I did, there was still this gnawing feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right. It was kind of like guilt, but mixed with anxiety. I think it’s the sort of feeling I would get if I were cheating on my boyfriend. I knew I was with the wrong person, but I forced myself to just accept it. It’s the price I had to pay to make up for my family’s sins. Let me tell you, it’s a hopeless sort of feeling when you decide someone else’s happiness is more important than your own. To do so, you have to admit that your life isn’t worth very much.

  Regardless of my misery, the year kept ticking by and soon, it was spring break, along with Easter. For the past six years or so, I had decorated Easter eggs with Asher and I was hoping an invitation would come along, but he was still giving me the cold shoulder. Ever since the Christmas debacle,
I had been avoiding church, since things were just too risky there with too many people knowing both sides of the story. Thankfully, Jason seemed to realize I wasn’t comfortable there and instead, he suggested a combined Easter dinner with our two families. Awkward? Sure, but doable. I figured we would make some small talk, eat some good food, and then I could go home and work on the book for the rest of the evening.

  My mom and I got all dressed up in our Easter dresses and headed over to the Stromsen household. Jason’s face lit up when he saw me in my yellow sundress with black flowers stitched along the bottom. “From a magpie to a goldfinch,” he said happily.

  “Are you sure it’s not from an ostrich to a duckling?” I teased.

  Shaking his head, he shook my mom’s hand and invited us both inside. There was a strange, puzzled look on her face for a moment that I didn’t understand, but it quickly became clear. Over a dinner of ham, sweet potatoes, and asparagus, my mom cleared her throat and tilted her head slightly. “So, I noticed Mrs. Stromsen wasn’t able to join us for dinner?”

  Crap. My breath caught in my throat and I choked on a mouthful of food, sputtering slightly. My mom patted me on the back as I took a giant gulp of water. Oh, God. Jason gave me a bewildered look, silently asking why I hadn’t told her anything ahead of time. Why hadn’t I told her anything? She had brought it up at Christmas, but I avoided the question. I certainly intended to come up with some sort of story to sate her curiosity, but with everything else going on, I had totally forgotten. What an idiot.

  Jason glanced at his father, who was still chewing slowly, looking off into the distance. He seemed to be in no hurry to jump into the conversation. “She was killed almost a decade ago,” Jason explained. “It was a hit-and-run accident when I was just a kid.”

  It went very silent suddenly, and my heart sank. I avoided her look, but I knew the secret was out: my mom knew. I could tell by the way she breathed a little faster, the way her fork clattered on the plate just a little too loudly. Please, please don’t say anything more, I begged her in my mind. Fortunately, Jason seemed used to these awkward pauses in the conversation after he explained what happened to his mom. “Let’s just hope our parents don’t hit it off too well,” he continued effortlessly, elbowing my side. “I read about that happening once. A couple’s single parents ended up getting married, meaning they were then step-siblings who dated each other.”

  “Eww,” I managed, still not daring to look up at my mom.

  “You’ve got to feel sorry for them, though,” he said. “Can you really blame them? I mean, you know what it feels like to be in love.” He reached over and squeezed my hand.

  I do?

  “Would you break up with me, if our parents got married?” He laughed and I shook my head. “Look, I have something I want to give you, and I thought tonight would be the perfect night, with both our families here.”

  I stared at him, trying to read his intentions. We were only fourteen, surely he wouldn’t…

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little box. “Now before you get too excited, let me explain. I know we’re still young, but I’ve never felt this way about a girl before. I just – I want you to know how much I care for you and how serious I am about you.” He started to pull open the box, then paused. “Now, this isn’t an engagement ring, or anything like that.”

  Oh, thank God.

  He snapped it open and showed me what was inside. It sure looked like an engagement ring to me. Three pieces of metal wrapped together to entwine around a pretty darn sparkly white gem in the middle. I must have looked absolutely terrified, but he bravely continued. “It’s a promise ring. We’re still boyfriend and girlfriend, but I promise to remain at your side until we are old enough to get married. I want to be with you forever.”

  Okay, it might not technically have been an engagement ring, but it sure looked and sounded like one.

  “I love you, Paige.”

  I opened my mouth, mind racing, and realized with dread what my response would be: I hyperventilated and passed out on the floor.

  I actually don’t remember passing out, but I do remember a rushing sound in my ears, my vision fading around the corners, and then I was waking up on the floor. At least this time I didn’t wake up with a huge lump and a broken wrist. Instead, I woke up with a ring on my finger. That’s right – the dolt slipped it on while I was in a state of shock. Apparently, he saw me wordlessly reach out, so he slipped it on, right before I toppled out of my chair. I think I was reaching out for help, but whatever.

  I know I sound like a total wimp for passing out, but I can’t help it. It’s just what I do. This wasn’t the first time I had gotten overwhelmed and fainted. It nearly happened once before, in this exact spot, the first time I met Jason’s dad. But this time was definitely the most embarrassing. Jason was horrified, but my mom just patted my (newly-adorned) hand and held out a glass of water for me to drink. To his credit, Jason’s dad didn’t even leave the table, just continued eating. That guy was not easily fazed.

  We left pretty soon after that, since all I wanted to do was curl up in bed and go to sleep. Thankfully, my mom didn’t immediately question me about Jason, but the next morning, she was waiting for me at breakfast. I was devouring a bowl of cereal and mostly ignoring her silent stare, when she finally spoke.

  “Paige, is Jason who I think he is?” Her voice was stone-hard.

  “Yup.” I continued stuffing my face.

  “And he doesn’t know?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why are you doing this?” She sounded totally mystified and I finally made eye-contact with her for the first time since she found out. There was something weird in her face, like I was a total stranger and she didn’t understand me anymore.

  “I like him,” I said simply. I don’t know if it’s in my voice, my eyes, or the way I move my body, but I am incapable of lying to my mom.

  She pulled my bowl of cereal away and turned my chair to face her directly. “Paige…” she warned.

  “My personal life is none of your business!” I growled, pulling my bowl back. I pulled too hard and it tipped over, spilling milk and cereal on my lap and the floor. For a moment, we just listened to it drip-drip-dripping off the table, then she sighed and got up to grab some paper towels.

  “Paige, you’re doing something really stupid,” she said bluntly.

  I shrugged, giving her my best I-don’t-care face. She handed me the paper towels and I blotted up the mess, glad to have something to distract me from the conversation. “Then just let me be stupid,” I replied, ducking under the table to clean the floor.

  “Fine,” she said, and I heard her leave the room. “You’ll just have to make your own mistakes.”

  On one hand, I was glad my mom wasn’t going to interfere, but I think I secretly wished she would. I don’t know, maybe that’s even why I overlooked telling her a cover story about Jason’s mom. This had gone way farther than I expected, and I didn’t see any way out any longer. I mean, that first night when I kissed him and promised myself that I would do my best to make him happy, I wasn’t planning on eventually breaking up with him or anything, but I guess I didn’t really see the big picture. That big picture was now staring me in the face every time I glanced down to see that stupid, sparkly ring on my finger.

  His words about eventually marrying me and starting a family haunted my sleep, and I started having nightmares that I was the one who was pregnant, instead of Grace. Sometimes I was driving a car and it wouldn’t stop and all of a sudden I saw people tumbling over the windshield. Sometimes I was walking through a house full of my kids and there were pills all over the carpet and I was trying to scoop them up before my babies ate them. I woke up, gasping for air nearly every night and all I could do was roll over and try to get back to sleep, fighting back tears.

  Throughout it all, I tried to think of some way to approach Asher, to make him understand what was going on without explicitly telling him. I was dreading the end of
the school year because it meant I might not see him for months, but there was one event I was looking forward to: my birthday. Asher had never, ever missed my birthday, even when his grandmother died and he had to fly out to Florida. He still borrowed someone’s laptop and started a video chat with me in order to wish me a happy birthday. If there was any way to get him to reach out to me, it would be on my birthday. And I was right, I did end up seeing him on that day, but not at all in the way I had hoped. In fact, it rivaled the nightmares that plagued me every night.

  Chapter 11

  I woke up on my birthday with a sense of hope in my chest. Jason and I had plans to go see a movie later that day, but as I headed to school, I thought of all the ways in the past that Asher had surprised me for my birthday. There was the time he bought me the exact CD I wanted, without even asking him, or the time he decorated my entire room with balloons and streamers while my mom kept me occupied at the pool, but I think one of my favorite birthdays was the year I turned eleven.

  That year, nobody remembered my birthday. Well, my mom made me pancakes and bacon for breakfast, but none of the girls at school had a clue. It’s not like I tried to hide it – I had been mentioning it all week, but when I arrived at school, it was just another boring day. Near the end of the day, Sammy remembered and gave me a quick hug and a, “Oh, happy birthday!” as she ran off home, but that was it.

  I was convinced that nothing could cheer me up and it was the lousiest birthday ever as my mom drove me home. It didn’t help that I had a backpack full of homework. I noticed my mom glance at me in the rearview mirror a few times, but she remained silent. As we pulled into the driveway, there was a sudden thump as the car bumped up over something.