The Rules of Regret (28 page)

“
Oh, come on,
”
I said, but it sounded more like a
beg than a tease. Torin rolled onto his back and ripped his hands through his
hair. I could see his chest rising and falling out of the corner of my eye, his
breathing gradually steadying.
“
Some
of those rides are completely worth it.
”
I stared back up at the ceiling.
“
Splash
Mountain? That ride has like three pretty awesome dips in it before you get to
the big one at the end. It
’
s
like four rides in one.
Totally
worth
it.
”

“
Oh my God!
”
Torin threw his hands into the air.
“
You expect me to go that many times?
Was Lance some kind of superhuman sex-machine?
”

“
That
’
s not what I meant!
”
I shouted, utterly mortified at the
totally inappropriate comparisons that were being made between Disneyland rides
and sexual encounters.
“
I
just meant that the ride is worth the wait!
”
My cheeks had never been this hot in
my entire life.
“
I
swear that
’
s
all I meant.
”

“
Oh dear God, I hope so, woman!
”
Torin
’
s voice cracked.

“
I swear!
”
I said again, but this time the
laughter that fell behind the words pushed through and I became nothing but a
hysterical mess of uncontrolled giggles.
“
Seriously
…
I don
’
t expect that much
…
honestly,
”
I managed to get out through
unreasonably loud fits of laughter.

“
What?! You don
’
t expect that much?
”
Torin dropped his hands to cover his
eyes, mock shame cloaking his face. He turned his head toward me and grinned
playfully.
“
Oh,
I promise you, Darby, you can expect the ride of your life.
”

I
was going to spontaneously combust.

“
This is too much.
”
I couldn
’
t stop laughing. It was all kinds of
laughter mixed together: nervous, giddy, excited, terrified. All the different
ways one was capable of laughing wrapped into one irrepressible, giggling
bundle.

“
I know, right?
”
Torin snorted right along with me,
matching my laughter note for note.
“
You
need to stop comparing my sexual capabilities to amusement park rides.
”

I
rotated over to curl my body into Torin
’
s
side. He tucked me into the space under his arm and slid the covers up over us.
“
But it
’
s the happiest place on earth,
”
I defended coyly.

“
No.
”
Torin smoothed my hair with his hand
and placed a feather light kiss on my brow.
“
This
is the happiest place on earth.
”

I
pinched back a snort.
“
You
mean the
cheesiest
place on earth.
”

“
That was pretty cheesy, wasn
’
t it?
”

“
Um, yes. I hate to admit it, but it
really was.
”

Torin
’
s frame straightened.
“
Speaking of. Where is that mac and
cheese of ours?
”

“
Oh my goodness, you
’
re all over the place!
”
I could hardly keep up with the
conversation.
“
You
’
re crazy!
”

Torin
rubbed his bare stomach in circles with the palm of his hand.
“
I
’
m hungry, which is probably close to
the same thing.
”
He dropped another kiss on my forehead like it was a totally routine gesture. I
really hoped it would become one.
“
And
I honestly can
’
t
be held responsible for anything I say when I
’
m hungry.
”

“
Is that so?
”
I tipped the corner of my mouth up
to challenge him.

“
Yes, because I could say things like
how I
’
ve
wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you
—
when you sat next to me at
orientation back at camp.
”
He pressed his cheek against my hair and breathed deep, almost like he was inhaling
me.
“
And
I might admit to things like actually sneaking a peek at you when you changed
into your swimsuit in the river during our overnighter.
”
With the hand wrapped around me, he
skated his fingers up and down my arm.
“
I
might also admit to really wanting to have sex with you just now, but being
totally freaked out because you would be my first.
”
His fingers stopped.
“
I might say things like that. You
know
…
because I
’
m
hungry.
”

“
I completely get that.
”
I snuggled closer to his side.
“
‘
Cause I
’
m hungry too.
”

“
So we
’
re speaking the same language, then?
”
He nodded, half with that confident
exterior I was used to, and half with an unexpected insecurity that caught me
slightly off guard.

“
Yes,
”
I confirmed. Because we were. For
once, someone was speaking my language. Fluently.

And
I really liked the sound of it.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The
smell of coffee wasn
’
t
what usually woke me up in the morning.

At
4:30 a.m.

I
tossed off my covers and fumbled in the dark toward the door separating our
suite. We
’
d
gone to bed hours ago, which was probably a good thing, because Torin all but
admitted to wanting to have sex, and my body all but would have let him.

I
rapped a knuckle on the door.

Within
seconds, a bleary-eyed Torin flung it open and locked my gaze.
“
Did I wake you?
”
He looked equally apologetic and
excited, like maybe he was actually trying to rouse me from my slumber with his
middle of the night barista skills.
“
I
tried to be quiet.
”

“
I
’
m not sure what woke me,
”
I replied. I wasn
’
t
—
maybe it was the smell of the coffee,
maybe it was the unfamiliar hotel setting, or maybe it was the realization that
Lance and I were actually finished and some other girl may or may not have his
child growing inside of her that startled me from my sleep. Out of those options,
number three was most likely the winner.

“
Want some? It
’
s decaf.
”

I
shook my head.
“
Then
what
’
s
the point?
”

Torin
had a mug tucked into his hands, his fingers curled around the handle. He made
his way to his couch/makeshift bed and sat down, flicking his head in a nod for
me to come join him.

“
Don
’
t most people drink coffee
for
the caffeine?
”
I lowered down to the edge of his
bed.

“
Probably.
”

It
was too late
—
or
early. I never really knew how to classify those midnight hours that fell in
between yesterday and today.
“
I
should go back to bed.
”
I twisted my upper half toward the door, readying to go, realizing sleep was
probably what we both really needed.

“
How do you sleep?
”
Torin asked.
“
Because I don
’
t. I don
’
t sleep.
”

Folding
my legs up into a crisscross, I wrapped my hands over my ankles and held them
there.
“
I
don
’
t
sleep either. At least not well,
”
I admitted.
“
At
least not well on my own.
”

Which
was probably the number one reason why I
’
d
stayed with Lance. Through the cheating. Through the lies. The thought of being
alone
—
alone
with my thoughts, my nightmares
—
was
what kept me clinging to his side, both day and night. But thinking about it
now, and looking at Torin, I felt that tight grip on Lance start to slip. I
almost wanted to shake it completely free.

“
I
’
m up every night,
”
Torin continued without pause, maybe
not even hearing my reply. I guessed he wasn
’
t really looking for one.
“
I wake up every night. That jerking,
falling sensation.
”
He stared at the painting on the wall that I
’
d tried to crawl into earlier this
afternoon.
“
I
would love to, for once, wake up peacefully. Not with the image Randy left me.
”

“
That was awful what he did to your
family, Torin.
”

I
wanted to punch Randy, which I realized was completely absurd because hanging
oneself from the rafters was significantly worse than being punched by a
nineteen-year-old girl with absolutely no fighting abilities or actual muscle
to speak of. But I really wanted to. I wanted to punch him. Not to hurt him
necessarily, because it appeared as though Randy had more hurt than I could
ever comprehend, to the point of numbness, because you
’
d have to be numb to do something
like that. But I wanted to punch him to make myself feel better. And that was
stupid. Here I was, thinking about how much I wanted to deck a dead guy. I
needed some caffeine.

“
Do you think he regrets it?
”
Torin continued. It was starting to
feel like he was having his own conversation, some internal struggle that I got
to witness.

“
Do I think Randy regrets killing
himself?
”
I sunk my head against the wall since there was no headboard. The back ridge of
the couch dug into the middle of my spine and I shoved a pillow in the gap to
make myself more comfortable.
“
I
’
m not sure he
’
s even capable of thinking anything.
I don
’
t
know if we think after death.
”

“
That would be awful.
”
Torin
’
s face fell.
“
That would be awful to not be able to
think anymore.
”
He deposited his coffee cup onto the nightstand, which was really an end table.
He shook his head and again said,
“
Awful.
”

“
Yeah,
”
I agreed.
“
It would be.
”

“
But I think it would be even
more
awful to be able to think and to
have regret, you know?
”
He spoke quietly, but not because he didn
’
t
want his words to be heard. The opposite, in fact. It was like he spoke so that
I had to really work to hear.
“
I
have one rule in my life: to live without regret.
”
He lifted his head slightly, tilting
his chin up in contemplation.
“
So
how much would that suck if I ended up regretting my own death?
”

“
It would completely suck.
”

“
But here
’
s the thing.
”
Torin was on a road to somewhere
with these thoughts of his, and my simple interjections didn
’
t feel like they belonged. But I
still said them
—
still
joined in
—
because
it seemed like it was a road he shouldn
’
t
travel down alone.
“
I
think there is always some amount of regret involved in death.
”

I
didn
’
t
interrupt this time.

“
You die in a car accident.
I should have stopped at that red light.
You
get cancer.
I shouldn
’
t have spent all of those years
smoking.
Hell, you die in your sleep.
I shouldn
’
t
have gone to bed tonight.
There is regret in every aspect of
life, and ultimately, it seems, in death.
”
Torin pursed his lips tightly. His brow was taut over his eyes.
“
And that completely sucks, because if
my one rule is to live without regret and yet I still regret the way in which
my life ended, what is the point?
”

He
’
d abandoned his coffee drinking and
joined me to lean against the wall. With clumsy inaccuracy, his fingers fumbled
into mine and he dropped his head onto my shoulder.

It
was quiet for a minute and then I spoke.
“
Then
I think the only way to follow that rule is to live each day like it was your
last.
”

“
Oh and I
’
m the plagiarist?
”
Torin chuckled loudly. I could feel
the way his body shook with laughter at my side, his voice vibrating against my
skin in a way that created a wake of goose bumps across my arms.
“
That
’
s complete clich
é
status right there.
”

“
True. It might be overused, but what
’
s more overused than death? I mean,
it happens to
all
of us. God should
come up with another way to end us.
”

His
head nodded against my shoulder.
“
I
’
m all for going out Elijah-style on a
chariot of fire.
”

“
I don
’
t even know what you
’
re talking about, but it sounds
awesome. So much better than taking one last breath here and then who knows
what happens next.
”

“
I have a hope for what I think might
happen next.
”
Torin pressed his head further against my shoulder, the weight of his body
leaning heavy into mine. Our legs lined up hip to toe and my fingers twisted
tighter in his.
“
I
have hope,
”
he said again.
“
And
that, I think, is stronger than regret.
”

***

“
Get your shoes on.
”
The vision of Torin
’
s pint-sized mother flashed across my
brain. I could see where he got his drill sergeant-like skills. Luckily, he
wasn't nearly as intimidating.

Flipping
onto my back, I shielded my eyes from the wash of golden light that flooded
through the hotel window as Torin ripped back the curtains in one dramatic
swoop. I smacked my lips, totally embarrassed to open my mouth for fear that I
might contaminate the air with my breath alone.
“
I think I need to get dressed before
I can get to the whole shoe thing.
”

“
Nope.
”
He shook his head with a coyness
that it was entirely too early for.
“
Clothing
optional. But we will be doing some walking, so you
’
ll probably want the shoes.
”

“
Where are we going?
”
Our flight out wasn
’
t until tomorrow morning, and while I
knew I would be here with Torin, I
’
d
originally thought those hours would be spent with Lance. But I suppose I
assumed I
’
d
be spending even more than just a few hours with him; I
’
d counted on a lifetime.

“
I would completely regret it if I
willingly put you on a plane headed back to California, knowing we were only
eight hours from your very favorite piece of architecture
in the whole world
, and you didn
’
t get the chance to see it.
”

“
We
’
re going to Boston?
”
I practically bounced on the bed
with a giddiness I rarely exuded. I couldn
’
t
believe that, one: he
’
d
remembered, and two: he was willing to spend an entire day driving to take me
there.

“
Yes indeed.
”
He nodded.
“
And I managed to get us a rental car,
too.
And
change our flights so we fly
out of Boston tonight, instead of D.C. tomorrow.
”

I
wasn
’
t
sure how he
’
d
arranged that considering you had to be 25 in most states to legally rent a
car, but I was still too excited about the possibility of seeing Boston Light
that the possibility of breaking the law in order to make that happen didn
’
t seem all that important.

“
Get your shoes on.
”
Torin scooped my Chuck Taylors off
the floor, tossing each one at me with a dramatic wind up and pitch. My left
shoe hit me square in the chest.
“
Sorry!
”
he laughed.
“
You gotta work on your reflexes.
”