The Rules of Regret (16 page)

“
You
’
re not
in
my bed, Torin. You
’
re
on
my bed.
”

“
Same difference.
”
He perked up, straightening his
spine to its full length. His head was just an inch shy of hitting the bars,
which supported the top bunk overhead.
“
See...
on
.
”
Then he slid his legs down, pressing
his hip into the curve of the mattress as he reached for the crumpled up quilt
at the foot of the bed to draw it up to his shoulders. Looking like he was
preparing for a nap, he snuggled his head into the feathery cushion of the pillow.
“
In
.
Same thing.
”

“
That is not the same thing at all,
”
I laughed.

“
Yes, it is. You try.
”

I
was already sitting, so he curled his hand around my elbow and tugged so it
buckled, then gave out from underneath me. Our heads at eye level on the pillow
underneath us proved without a doubt that on and in were essentially opposites.
I could (almost) handle having Torin on my bed. But having him in it brought me
straight back to the sleeping bag and straight back to the familiar ache that
swam in the pit of my stomach. Without realizing it, I rubbed my fingers over
my abdomen, trying to calm the eager rush that tugged at my gut.

Torin
took notice.
“
Stomachache?
”

“
Nah. I
’
m fine.
”

“
Butterflies?
”
he smiled.

“
What?
”

Yes,
there was a growing swarm of butterflies ramming about in my ribcage, but I
hadn
’
t
expected Torin to not only acknowledge it, but point it out, too.

“
Do I give you butterflies?
”

“
No, Torin,
”
I lied through my teeth.
“
You don
’
t give me butterflies.
”

“
You sure? 'Cause you give me
bumblebees.
”

“
Bumblebees?
”
I angled my head his direction, but
we were close and if I moved any further our noses would touch.

“
Yes. Butterflies are too light and
fluttery.
”
He must have moved because suddenly that gap was nearly nonexistent.
In
was definitely not the same as
on
.
“
You make me feel like I have a
freaking hornets nest buzzing and stinging at my insides.
”

“
That
’
s a weird thing to say.
”

“
But it
’
s true. It
’
s practically painful to be around
you.
”

“
And that
’
s a mean thing to say.
”

His
hand dropped onto my cheek and I went instantly rigid, like there was some
electrifying jolt that spread out from his fingertips.
“
It
’
s not a bad kind of painful. It
’
s a good kind.
”

“
How can any pain be good, Torin?
”
But the searing heat of his palm on
my face answered the question. The physical contact was extreme in a way that
bordered on painful, but that had to be because it was something that couldn
’
t be realized, something that couldn
’
t come to fruition. The fact that
things would stop at just this, that was what caused the bittersweet intensity.
It was the absence of what we wanted to happen that truly brought about the
real pain.

“
You tell me. How does this make you
feel?
”
He inched his face closer to mine, his hand still laying against the slope of
my jaw.
“
When
I do this...
“
He titled his head just slightly, his lips lined up with mine.
“
When I get this close, but stay this
far away...
“
Not moving another millimeter, he spoke softly,
“
...does it give you butterflies, or
does it give you bumblebees?
”

I
gasped, then became overwhelmingly embarrassed by the fact that I
’
d just literally gasped at the
thought of kissing him.

“
Right,
”
he said coolly, running the tip of
his tongue across his bottom lip, leaving it there in the corner edge of his
mouth, nearly biting down on it.
“
I
thought so.
”
Then, like the sudden torrential downpour of rain that comes without warning,
the serious gaze snapped from his eyes and he rammed his index finger into my
stomach, blurting,
“
Buzz,
buzz, buzz!
”

I
swatted him with fury of a thousand angry Queen bees.

“
I really do have to go, as much as I
want to stay and poke you.
”

I
gulped and it was even louder than my inadvertent gasp.

“
You did not just say that.
”

All
color drained from Torin
’
s
face and his swallow was louder than my gulp and gasp combined.
“
I did. Reason number two why I need
to go: I
’
m
speaking in innuendoes. That
’
s
never a good thing.
”

“
I might disagree with you on that.
”

“
I think we
’
d need to go deeper in order to know
for sure.
”

The
giggling had already started with his first remark, but that one sent me over
the edge into certified hysteria. I buried my head in my hands and tucked my
legs to my chest to absorb some of the laughter.
“
Knock it off, Torin,
”
I shouted between cackles.

“
I can
’
t. It
’
s really hard.
”

“
Seriously!
”
I practically screamed, worried that
I was nearing the pee-your-pants stage of laughter.
“
I can
’
t take anymore.
”

Torin
nodded, pulled both legs over the edge of the bed to stand, and said,
“
I should probably get off.
”

“
I
’
m
so
serious right now.
”
The tears streamed full force down my cheeks and I could feel the snot start to
drip from my noise, collecting above my upper lip. I
’
d officially reached the ugly,
utterly uncontrolled point in my fit.

“
I
’
m finished, don
’
t worry.
”
Torin gave me the most incriminating
smirk I
’
d
ever seen him muster, and without saying another word, slipped out of my cabin.
Even after the door had shut fully into its frame, I continued giggling, unable
to get Torin, his lips, and his words, out of my mind.

CHAPTER TWELVE

 
“
Time
to go,
”
Ran said, resting his hand on Maggie
’
s
shoulder affectionately. He looked over at me, his blue eyes warm with
sincerity, as he tossed the last of their luggage into the bed of their blue
truck.
“
Take
care, Darby. I
’
m
glad we got to know you a bit during our time here.
”
Ran held out a hand to me, shaking
mine firmly and Maggie wrapped an arm over my shoulder.
“
We
’
ll keep in touch.
”

I
nodded my agreement and within minutes they
’
d loaded up the vehicle, backed out
of the lot, and were headed out of Quarry Summit, leaving summer camp behind in
the dust that kicked up off their tires.

Two
loud footfalls blended in with the dissipating roar of the engine, trading
places in volume and intensity.

“
Did they leave already?
”

I
didn
’
t
have to turn around to know who it was. I didn
’
t even have to hear his actual voice,
either. That scent
—
that
familiar faint spice that reminded me of home
—
instantly clued me in to the boy
standing at my shoulder. My body acknowledged him, too, as a wake of goose
bumps crossed over my skin. His breath rushed out of him in pants, like he
’
d been running in order to make it in
time to say his goodbyes. But he was too late.

“
Yep. Just left.
”

“
Damn it!
”
Torin bent at the waist and pressed
his hands to his jeans, dragging in air in shallow, uncontrolled pulls.
“
I wanted to say goodbye.
”

“
I hate goodbyes. Goodbyes suck.
”

“
I
’
m good at them.
”
Torin swept his hand across his
sweat-beaded forehead and smirked before wiping his palms on the front of his
pants.
“
When
your friends come in six-week waves, you get very good at goodbye.
”
He looked up at me and my stomach
did that awful falling thing where it dropped out. Why did I feel like I was on
a roller coaster every time I was with this guy?
“
This summer has been weird. I didn
’
t get a chance to say goodbye to you,
either.
”

“
I
’
m still here.
”
I kicked around a rock with the tip
of my shoe.
“
You
’
ve got more weeks for me.
”

“
But I haven
’
t really
seen
you for the past three, Darby.
”

“
The campers came.
”
I rolled the stone under the tread,
running it up and down so it made a gritty, nails on a chalkboard sound against
the crunchy gravel.

Though
I never would have admitted it could ever have happened in the beginning, our
time at camp had really flown by. Part of this was due to the fact that the
actual campers arrived, bringing with them their own drama, emotions, and
responsibilities. Focusing on a cabin full of girls somehow forced my issues to
the backseat position; a place where I
’
d
securely seat belted them and hoped they stay for the remainder of the ride.

Since
the overnighter, I hadn
’
t
had nearly as much one-on-one contact with Torin, though that wasn
’
t saying a lot considering the amount
of actual, physical contact I had with him during that night.

For
all intents and purposes, the camp really was divided between the girls and the
boys. The male counselors focused on their own campers, while the rest of us
interacted mainly with our cabin mates. Surviving the heartache and the trauma
that each of my girls brought with them to camp somehow
—
even when all
compiled together
—
was
unbelievably easier than surviving that one night in the woods with Torin.
Three more weeks. Halfway there. I had this. I could do this.

“
I
’
ve been busy,
”
I offered.

“
Get lunch with me.
”

“
What?
”
My shoe stopped in its place and I
pinned him with a stunned glare. This chapter didn
’
t involve lunch. It involved me going
back to my cabin and wallowing in the fact that two of my main characters were
yanked from the script. I needed someone to fill that supportive best friend
role. Torin should not be that person.

“
Let
’
s get lunch. I
’
m starved.
”
He snagged my hand and threaded his
fingers through mine so swiftly that I didn
’
t have time to shake it free before
he was yanking me toward the dining commons.
“
You got a good cabin?
”

“
Um, yeah. I guess.
”
I willed the sweat to stop from
pooling in my palm, but it didn
’
t
do any good. I tried willing Torin to let go of my hand, but that didn
’
t do any good, either. He gripped on
tighter. I needed to work on my willing.
“
They
’
re okay.
”

“
I
’
ve missed you.
”

“
What?
”
I choked
—
literally choked
—
on the word. I
’
d never realized syllables were
physical things, but that one lodged in my constricted throat. I tried again.
“
Why?
”

Torin
leaned forward and shook his head condescendingly.
“
Because I haven
’
t
seen
you in three weeks.
”

“
You haven
’
t seen the other counselors, either,
”
I teased, searching for some sort of
defense. It wasn
’
t
like I was the only one he hadn
’
t
been in contact with.

“
Yeah, but I haven
’
t shared a sleeping bag with the
other counselors.
”
He propped open the dining hall door with one hand, but didn
’
t break his grip on the other
.
“
You
heard from Lance at all?
”

I
didn
’
t
want to answer his question because it really hurt that the answer was no. No,
I hadn
’
t
heard from Lance. Though I hadn
’
t
honestly expected to communicate with him regularly while we were both away, I
’
d at least hoped for a message
—
a note
—
some sort of
confirmation that we were still, you know,
us,
whatever that even meant anymore. But that hadn
’
t happened. Nothing had happened.
Total radio silence.

“
No, I haven
’
t.
”

“
You should check at the front office.
You know they keep the messages there, right?
”
Torin guided me toward the line of
staffers at the buffet, their plastic plates perched in their hands as they
loaded up on carbs and sugar-coated sweets. Diabetes on a platter. Camp food
left much to be desired for my poor taste buds.

“
I didn
’
t know that,
”
I said, grabbing my own tray, fork,
and napkin. I followed him down the line, transferring deli meat and fruit onto
my plate, but none of it looked all that edible. I was still trying to find my
stomach again after that free fall from earlier.

“
I
’
ll go with you after lunch. I bet
there
’
s
something there from him.
”

I
nodded gratefully and deposited another slice of ham onto my plate.
“
Thank you. That would be nice.
”

“
You on the Atkins diet?
”
Torin
’
s eyes narrowed and he pointed to the
pile of meat grasped between the metal tongs suspended between my fingers. I
had mindlessly stacked more slices than I could possibly eat onto my tray,
completely covering it, leaving no inch of it empty.

“
No.
”

“
It looks like you
’
re hungry.
”

“
I
’
m not really.
”
I unloaded some of the food, dumping
it into a trashcan near the end of the buffet line, feeling a little bad to be
so wasteful and feeling a little embarrassed to come across so out of sorts.

“
Could
’
ve fooled me.
”
Torin
’
s smile was huge.
“
Let
’
s eat outside.
”

There
was a picnic bench just outside the dining commons door and Torin settled his
tray onto it, the metal soda can clinking against the wooden surface.
“
Have you missed me?
”

“
What?
”

“
Have you missed me, Darby? We did
share a pretty intense 24 hours together.
”

“
I have.
”
Did I really just admit that? Out
loud? With actual words?
“
My
girls have kept me busy,
”
I backpedalled, pushing around the food on my plate with my fork, shoving all
the fruit to one side, all the meat to the other.
“
I
’
m pretty focused on them.
”

“
That
’
s awesome,
”
he said around a mouthful of
raspberry Jell-O. When he chewed, his dimples pricked his cheeks slightly and
pulled my gaze like a magnetic field. I
’
d
always assumed magnetic fields to be much, much larger, but apparently they
were just the size of a dimple pressed into a cheek. Go figure.
“
I told you you
’
d make a great counselor. Especially
with them being thirteen and all.
”
He winked at me and that sucked me completely into the vortex.

“
I don
’
t know about great.
”
I poked at my food, stabbing a slice
of bologna with my fork so it left a row of five tiny pinholes.
“
But I
’
m trying.
”

“
That
’
s all that matters.
”
With a flick of his wrist, he plopped
a purple grape into his mouth.
“
I
’
ve got an interesting batch this
time. Two former meth addicts and one kid that tried to kill his mom.
”

My
utensil dropped from my fingers, clanking loudly against the ceramic plate. I
scooped it back up, but my shock was already made embarrassingly, and loudly,
evident. I felt the eyes of a few nearby counselors, but kept my head down like
a scolded dog
’
s.
Unfortunately, I couldn
’
t
avoid the stare from the boy across the table. Our eyes collided.

“
I know, right? Serious stuff,
”
Torin agreed, nodding. He chomped
down on another bite of his lunch and that dimple reappeared.
“
I
’
m glad they
’
re all out on their canoe trips for a
few hours. As much as I love what I get to do and who I get to be in their
lives, I need something a little less intense for a few hours.
”
He smiled, his cheeks puffed up like
a chipmunk storing nuts for the winter. I wanted to pinch them. He pointed his
fork my direction and muttered around his food,
“
You are less intense.
”