Regret List Read online

  With a scowl, Asher jumped up and rummaged through his laundry hamper. “Clean that up!” he yelled, throwing a dirty t-shirt at me. When I just stared at him, not quite understanding, he dropped down to the floor and sopped up the water himself, tossing the wet t-shirt at me when he was finished. “Moron.”

  His anger startled me slightly and started to bring me back to my senses. As time passed, I slowly became aware that I had to pee. Stumbling to my feet, I walked toward the bathroom, slumped against the wall to keep myself upright. When I finally reached the bathroom, I locked myself inside, but caught sight of my reflection in the mirror on my way to the toilet. I was kind of surprised it still looked like me. I certainly didn’t feel anything like myself. I touched the mirror and leaned closer. Now, you might think I’m a little crazy if I tell you the next part, but I guess that’s the risk I have to take.

  “Are you still there, Paige?” I whispered.

  “I’m still here,” I heard my voice return in my head. “Just relax. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  That’s what I mean when I said I felt like I was leading a double life. There was outer-Paige, who looked like me, but didn’t feel like me. She was never too busy to hang out with Jason and spent all her energy trying to make him happy. That Paige was just playing at being an adult, just like when I was 12. Then there was inner-Paige, who didn’t really want a boyfriend and felt increasingly uncomfortable with how things were progressing. All I really wanted to do was work on the book and hang out with Asher and play in the snow. Instead, on Christmas Eve, I went to church.

  That’s right: church. The church I hadn’t been to since I was ten years old.

  The morning of the day before Christmas, I was curled up in bed, writing. The boy of our book was still telling the girl about his life, but the stories had taken a sudden shift, as everything he knew had come to ruin when the wizard’s armies destroyed his town and killed his family. When the girl, who had considered freeing the boy and running away with him, finally learned the truth, she asked him why he hadn’t killed her. If he had killed her before she screamed for back-up, he might have been able to get further in the fortress and perhaps even kill the wizard. When she asked him this time, he looked at her sadly and replied, “Because you didn’t deserve to die.”

  Tossing a raisin in my mouth and reading over what I had written, I nearly ignored my phone as it began to vibrate on my nightstand. These days, the only one who bothered to call was Jason, but when I looked at the screen, I didn’t recognize the number. Worried that it might be Grace, I picked it up and answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Paige!” It was Jason.

  “Oh, hey. I didn’t recognize your number,” I replied, trying to drum up some enthusiasm.

  “Yeah, sorry, I’m on my dad’s phone right now. I forgot mine at home.”

  “Where are you?” I asked, wincing as the mention of his dad. Since that first time I had met him, I had managed to avoid further contact.

  “We’re eating brunch and I was just talking about you,” I further scrunched up my face, “and I was thinking maybe you’d like to come to church with us tonight.”

  Going to church with Jason and his dad was possibly the last thing I wanted to do, but I couldn’t think of a single excuse. My mom would be at church as well and maybe it would be a good way to introduce her to the fact that I had a boyfriend. I was almost positive that she wouldn’t recognize the Stromsen family either. I hoped she wouldn’t, anyway. “Yeah, sure, I could do that,” I said after a pause. “I’ll be with my mom, so I’ll meet you there.”

  “Great!” I could practically hear him grinning. “I’ll see you tonight. Love you.” He hung up before I could answer.

  Love you? I stared at the phone for a moment. Love? I did a quick count on my fingers. We had first kissed at the bowling alley in late September. Now here it was, late December. Three months? Was that normal? Was it just a casual goodbye, or did he really mean it? I sighed and flopped backwards on the bed. I wished I could ask Asher for help, but he had begun completely closing up every time I mentioned Jason’s name.

  It was with great trepidation that I sought out my mom and told her that someone had invited me to go to church that evening. I knew the conversation that was coming. “Hey, Mom?” I stuck my head around the corner of the kitchen to find her putting away the dishes.

  “Yeah, hon?”

  “Do you mind if I tag along to church tonight? I kind of got invited by someone.” My guts were churning by this point.

  Suddenly, I had her full attention as she set down the bowls she had been stacking. “Oh? And who would this be?”

  I tried to look nonchalant and failed miserably. “Just this guy from school.”

  “And is he a friend? Or more than a friend?” Yeah, that’s the line I was dreading.

  I moaned loudly. “Mom, really?” She stared at me, awaiting my answer. “More than a friend,” I mumbled.

  “And what’s his name?” she asked, clasping her hands together.

  “Jason. But look Mom, it’s not a big deal!” Her eyes brightened further, probably because I had named someone other than Asher.

  I honestly think my mom was more excited than I was to go to church that evening. Well, I suppose that’s really not saying much, since I was more nervous than anything, especially about Jason’s dad. Although I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to blurt out the truth or anything, I wasn’t sure how he would act around us. It turns out, Jason’s dad wasn’t the one I should have been worrying about. Let me explain.

  When we got to church that evening, I saw Jason and his dad standing near the front, talking with Pastor Robbins. My stomach lurched when I saw all three of them together. I hadn’t seen the pastor since way back when I quit the choir. In that moment, I started to realize: surely the pastor knew who Jason and I were. I wasn’t at all sure if he would keep my secret, especially if he didn’t even realize it was a secret. I dragged my mom quickly over to the small group, hoping to intercept the conversation.

  “Hey Jason,” I said as we neared.

  Jason beamed at me and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. There was no way he would be smiling if he knew. “Hi Paige!” He stuck his hand out to my mom. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Jason.”

  As the two Stromsens and my mom were introduced, I sidled over to the pastor. He laid a hand down on my shoulder and I felt instantly smaller, like I was ten years old again. “Friendships spark up in the most unexpected of places,” he said. “I am so pleased to see you two together.”

  I opened my mouth and then closed it. He didn’t sound like he was conspiring to withhold my secret from Jason, but he didn’t sound threatening either. As my chest constricted, I realized the depth of my deception. He didn’t realize that Jason was in the dark about it all, but he couldn’t very well come out and say: “Hey kid, I’m glad you befriended the daughter of your mom’s murderer.” He was the kind of guy who would only talk in vague sincerities, like he was doing with me. He had probably said something very similar to Jason. But the rest of the congregation - my eyes glazed over as I looked around the packed church – would they be so ambiguous?

  Someone I didn’t recognize walked up to our group as the pastor departed. She was around my mom’s age, with an enormous purse and badly-dyed red hair. Her watery blue eyes lit up when she saw Jason and me. “Well, I never!” She put her hands to her mouth. “It’s a Christmas miracle!”

  I suspected she had come straight from a Christmas party and was treading the line between tipsy and drunk, but I nearly choked at Jason’s confused expression. “Excuse me?” he asked.

  She threw her arms around us. “It truly is a time for forgiveness!” I realized I was right: her breath stunk of alcohol. With my heart pounding in my chest, I tried to think of a way to extricate ourselves from the situation.

  Fortunately, my mom took over and politely unwound the woman’s arm from my shoulders and put herself in between us. “Thank you
, ma’am. I’m sure they appreciate your warm wishes.”

  I looked desperately at the clock overhead and wished the pastor would hurry up and start the service. There he was, smiling politely down at all of us while we mingled. Say something, I wished fiercely. Hurry up and make everyone sit down!

  Another woman walked up and stared at the two of us for a moment, probably trying to make sure she recognized us correctly. To make matters worse, Jason took that moment to grab my hand and lean in closer. “I am so glad you came tonight, Paige.”

  I nodded distractedly. “Uh-huh.” The woman seemed to not know what to say and wandered off. I saw a couple others further back pointing in our direction and conversing close together. A man walked by and looked at Jason’s dad in surprise.

  “Why, I didn’t realize Jason knew Paige,” he said to us, looking a little less warmly in my direction.

  Jason’s dad raised an eyebrow at him, straightening his glasses. “Well, they are in the same grade. I’d be surprised if they didn’t know each other.”

  The man looked a little less comfortable and shifted his weight. “Well, I suppose that’s true. Merry Christmas, then.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  I sent Jason’s dad a thankful expression, but he turned away. For better or for worse, he seemed dedicated to keeping my secret. I saw a few others making their way in our direction, but Pastor Robbins took that moment to tap the microphone and start the service. We sat and Jason tapped my leg, giving me a confused look. I realized that I had knit my hands tightly together in my lap, preventing him from holding my hand. Pretending not to understand his look, I kept my hands there, winding them even tighter. It felt like the longest service of my life, even longer than my dad’s funeral.

  It didn’t help when halfway through the evening, the microphone went out and Pastor Robbins shouted out over the crowd that he scheduled us an intermission. As a couple guys vaulted up on stage to try and get it sorted out, Jason turned to me and brought up the worst conversation topic possible.

  “Christmas is always hard for us,” he explained, lowering his voice a little. “You know what I mean?”

  I knew exactly what he meant and only hoped my mom didn’t overhear and start to put the pieces together. “Yeah.”

  “My mom died in November, but Christmas actually seems worse than that day, sometimes.”

  How could I not respond to that? Taking the chance that my mom might overhear, I nodded. “I know what you mean. The commercials are the worst.”

  He grinned, although he still looked kind of sad. “Yeah. And the movies! What’s that one they play 24/7?”

  “It’s A Wonderful Life?” I asked.

  He snapped his fingers. “That’s it. My mom let me stay up late the year before she was killed and we watched that movie together. I swear I’ll never be able to watch it again.” It almost made me glad that I didn’t have any memories of my dad. What would it be like to go through life, constantly and unexpectedly reminded of him, of times we shared together? I finally unclasped my hands and slid my fingers between his. “I think this is the best Christmas Eve I’ve had since she died,” he confessed. “Thanks.”

  I opened my mouth, not sure what to say, but the sound of the pastor’s voice suddenly boomed out through the church and everyone turned back toward him, the conversations dying down. If I make him so happy, why do I feel so guilty?

  At midnight, when we all sang together to celebrate, I feigned a headache in order to get out of there quicker and avoid any other curious onlookers. Jason lightly kissed my cheek, our parents waved their goodbyes, and I rushed out of the church, thankful that I had made it one more day without being discovered. During the car ride home, my mom cleared her throat suddenly. “Merry Christmas, Paige,” she said.

  “Merry Christmas,” I replied, yawning.

  She hesitated. “I noticed Jason’s mom wasn’t there.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know. Can I turn on the radio?” I didn’t have a cover story ready yet and I was exhausted from the evening. Remember when I said that people like me, we usually end up crushed under the weight of our burdens? I wasn’t crushed yet, but I was beginning to feel the strain.

  Even as I eluded my mom’s question, I wondered when my luck would run out. Even back then, I knew it had to run out someday. I didn’t expect it to happen quite so quickly though. But wait, you’ve got to stop me from trying to jump ahead again. First, I have to tell you what happened with Asher. When everything began to unravel, he got tangled up in it too.

  Chapter 8

  I don’t know if this is true of all high schools, or just my own, but it can be a cruel place, especially if you’ve wronged someone. Or a couple people. There was no way I was getting away with insulting and humiliating Kandice and Sammy during lunch that day before winter break. I had hoped that we were even then, especially when we returned to school and I hardly caught sight of them. We didn’t have any classes together and I knew where they ate lunch and hung out before school, so it wasn’t hard to avoid them.

  For a little while, everything seemed peaceful. I ate lunch on my own, tucked away in a corner by the stairs. I put my head down and rushed between classes, ignoring everyone around me. Jason had no idea what was going on – since he was friends with Patrick, it felt way too overwhelming to involve him as well. I was pretty sure Asher knew something was up, although he didn’t say anything. With his information network, he probably knew more about what was going on than I did. Maybe that’s why I kept catching glimpses of him in the hallway when I knew his classes were on the other side of the school. Maybe that’s why he was there when the peace came to a sudden and scary end.

  With no one to talk to, I spent my lunch periods writing for a couple weeks. It was late January and I was totally engrossed in writing the scene where the girl finally agrees to help break the boy out of the wizard’s prison. I was wondering what Asher would do with them now that they were no longer separated by bars. Smiling, I made sure to set things up so that there would be a long and difficult escape before anything too romantic could occur. I was in the middle of a word when the notebook was snatched from my grasp, leaving a long, angry pen-line down the middle of the paper.

  “Hey!” I looked up angrily and my stomach twisted when I met Kandice’s fierce glare. She just laughed and tossed the notebook to Sammy, who started turning through the pages. I rose to my feet, watching them warily. “Give that back.”

  Remember when that stupid, bigger girl stole my glasses? This was about a thousand times scarier. I was terrified for the notebook somewhat, but also for myself. Not only were we all just a bit older than four years old, I think it was pretty clear by that point that Kandice was incredibly unpredictable and Sammy would do anything to stay on her good side. But just like that time when I was a kid, Sammy was holding the notebook just out of reach and there was no way I was walking away without it.

  “What do you want?” I hoped they couldn’t hear the nervousness in my voice.

  “It’s a book!” Sammy screeched, still flipping the pages. She burst out laughing and I gritted my teeth, trying to stay calm.

  Still facing me, Kandice stuck out her hand and Sammy handed her the notebook. If I was quick, I just might be able to grab it. “You know,” Kandice said slowly, “you’re really missing out. We’ve been invited to college parties every weekend.”

  I blinked. “Is that supposed to make me jealous?”

  She tried a different tactic. “So where’s your little girl-who-cried-rape? Too scared to come back to school?”

  I just stared at her, my heart calming in my chest. Was this really it? This was her attempt to rile me up? If so, this wasn’t going to be so terrible. It was annoying maybe, but not scary or dangerous. I just stared at her. “Seriously?”

  Glancing down, Kandice flipped through the notebook, a smile growing across her face. She snorted. “This is what you’ve been working on with that retarded guy? I didn’t even know he could write.
” Okay, that irritated me and I looked up at the ceiling, trying not to get too worked up. But really, I had heard worse before. Unfortunately, this wasn’t new. But then, Kandice did something unforgiveable. As I met her gaze and opened my mouth to tell her off, she narrowed her eyes and very methodically tore a page out of the notebook, crumpling it up in her fist.

  Unable to contain myself any longer, I launched forward with a strangled yell, calling her something not very nice. I’d repeat it here, but it’s one of those words that really should only be heard by the one who deserves it and not just tossed around needlessly. Anyway, something very rude came out of my mouth as I lunged for the notebook before she destroyed the entire thing. Sammy screeched behind Kandice and I heard a couple other kids shout nearby, hoping it would turn into a full-on fight.

  I closed my hand around the notebook, feeling the metal spirals bend around my fingers, but Kandice jerked it back, sending me off-balance. As I fell toward her, she shoved me and I stumbled backward, trying to catch myself. My last step found only air and I remembered too late where I had been eating lunch: next to the stairs. Hurtling backward, I reached for the handrail, but it was out of reach. I caught sight of Kandice’s face, frozen in horror as she watched me fall, right before I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for the imminent impact.

  What happened next is impossible to explain, unless you’ve ever been knocked unconscious. It’s the strangest sensation to come out of that, almost like my brain was rebooting. I slowly became aware of each of my limbs again, then my body as a whole. I opened my eyes and processed where I was. It’s totally different than waking up from a dream, because there’s this big empty space where you know time passed, but you’re not sure why or how much. Slowly, it all came back to me as I focused on the ceiling overhead.