The Rules of Regret (30 page)

“
I
’
m not running from anything. I
’
m running
to
something, and I want you to run with me.
”

I
could see the airport parking lot up ahead, the car rental return sign telling
us where to go. Our vehicle curved along the indicated path.

“
See, I don
’
t think we need to run anywhere. I
’
m happy walking. Hell, I
’
m happy sitting. I
’
m happy just being with you, Darby.
Just like this. Driving ten hours together and ending up absolutely nowhere. I
don
’
t
mind being nowhere with you, Darby, because you make even my nowhere feel like
somewhere.
”
He tossed a glance my direction and quirked up the corner of his mouth.
“
Go ahead, take your socks off.
”

“
You really are too much, you know
that?
”

“
I actually think I
’
m just enough.
”

***

The
plane taxied on the runway several minutes before the seatbelt sign shut off
and a chorus of metallic clicks filled the cabin. Torin reached a hand across
my lap to unhook my belt.

“
Was I successful in keeping you
distracted?
”
I smirked, my lips still buzzing from our mildly inappropriate airplane make
out session.

“
More than successful.
”
Torin pressed his mouth to mine once
more. His lips felt warm and pliable like always.
“
And I think we distracted a few
others, too.
”
He flicked a finger toward an elderly man two rows up who stared unabashedly at
us, scorn held in his eyes.
“
I
think we gave that guy a heart attack.
”

“
I think you gave
me
a heart attack,
”
I admitted, still feeling the aftereffects of his kiss surging throughout me
like the warmth of that first sip of alcohol. The subtle hint of impending
intoxication.
“
Your
kissing skills are total heart attack worthy. You nearly killed me.
”

But
as it would turn out, I
’
d
used that statement too early on in our day.

And
about the wrong person.

“
Darby.
”
Torin shook me awake, my back
pressing in and out of the lumpy mattress. The bent springs creaked with each
jolting movement.
“
Darby,
wake up.
”

I
knew better than to bolt upright this time. The faint scar on my brow was a
clear reminder to rise gradually from my slumber. But Torin obviously didn
’
t want me to wake up slowly. No, his
firm grip on my shoulders totally indicated otherwise. He was wrestling me out
of sleep like a ravenous lion batting at its prey.

“
The campers!
”
I shouted, disoriented and dazed. We
’
d gotten into Sacramento after
midnight, and then headed back up to the Trinity Alps immediately after. I
’
d slept the entire car ride, and all
but zombie-walked to the cabin, only to find it completely empty.
“
Where are my girls?
”

“
On their overnighters,
”
Torin clarified. The latest set of
campers were out with their parents for the weekend, and I
’
d known that, but the fog took a
while to lift from my eyes and my brain.
“
Darby,
last night...
”

“
Was amazing.
”
That much I remembered.
“
Who would have thought making out at
30,000 feet could be such a rush? I can think of a few other things I
’
d like to do at that elevation
—”

“
There was a car crash, Darby.
”
Torin
’
s eyes were bloodshot; spider webs of
red wove in and out of the whites surrounding his pupils. He had to be so
tired. It was a miracle we
’
d
made it back to camp without him falling asleep at the wheel. Something was
clearly looking out for us.

“
Oh my God.
”
I paused.
“
Are we dead?
”
I knew it was stupid to think
—
even stupider to
say
—
but
maybe this was death. Maybe the afterlife was just another extension of this
life. Maybe that
’
s
all it was. Or maybe I was deliriously sleepy.

“
No, Darby. We
’
re not dead,
”
he said softly, the way a mother
breaks bad news gently to her child. His hand was at my cheek, and he held it
there in a way that made me nervous, because the look that draped across his
face matched the desperate feeling that pulsed from his fingertips onto my
skin.
“
But
Lance is.
”

My
stomach twisted violently, and my eyes swirled round and round, following the
whirlpool of water that pulled back down into the base of the toilet. Before it
had even finished flushing, I filled it with vomit again.

“
It
’
s okay,
”
Torin whispered against my clammy
forehead, his hand wrapped around a makeshift ponytail.
“
Shhhh... It
’
s okay, Darby.
”

 
We did this for a while, Torin shushing
and me puking. It might have been a few minutes; it might have been a few
hours. But it was hard to tell because it felt like a dream, and time wasn
’
t something you could register in a
dream. I wanted it to be a dream. I prayed for it to be one. But it wasn
’
t. It was a very real, very tangible
nightmare.

“
What the hell was wrong with him?
”
I shouted, gripping Torin
’
s chest as we sat, curled up on the
chipped tile bathroom floor.
“
Why
did he come after me?
”

“
Because you were running from him.
”
It felt like a slap in the face. I
would have preferred that actually, had Torin physically punched me with his
fist rather than backhanded me with his words.

“
I wasn
’
t running
from
anything, Torin!
”
I buried my face into the fabric of his flannel shirt and it stuck to the wet
slope of my cheek. The fibers scraped my skin like the scratching prickles of a
cactus.

“
But you were.
We
were. It wasn
’
t
right for me to let you leave without talking things out with him once more.
”
Torin shoved the heel of his hand to
his nose and wiped it quickly.
“
It
was like I was kidnapping you or something. Like I had to get you out of there
and away from him before you had any second thoughts.
”

“
That
’
s not what you were doing, Torin.
”
I looked up at him. His head tilted
back against the stall wall, his neck stretching completely, his face directed
toward the ceiling coated with splotches of mold and dirt-filled cracks.
“
We both know that
’
s not what you were doing.
”

“
Maybe not consciously, but my
subconscious is apparently an insecure prick that feels threatened quite
easily.
”
Torin brought his lips to my forehead and dropped a hesitant kiss onto it, like
maybe it was something he shouldn't do. He kept his mouth there as he said,
“
Because in all honesty, Lance wasn
’
t that much of a threat, having
cheated and possibly gotten another girl pregnant and all.
”

It
felt weird to be talking about him like he was still alive, but I supposed it
felt even weirder to acknowledge he was dead. So far, I hadn
’
t been able to do that. Maybe my body
had, the way it retched and convulsed, emptying my insides of any sustenance it
might have held. But I had a much harder time expressing it with my words.

Lance is dead
,
I spoke in my head. But just because I forced myself to think it didn
’
t make it feel real. Just like
reciting the phrase,
It
’
s not your fault
,
never felt real to me, either. It didn
’
t
feel real these past six years, and it definitely wasn
’
t real now. I wasn
’
t sure what was actually real anymore
at all.

“
He
’
d probably been drinking because of
our fight.
”

Torin
’
s arms pulled tighter around me, a
vice grip that refused to let go.

“
You can
’
t say things like that, Darby. You
can
’
t
blame yourself for something you didn
’
t
have control over.
”

“
Then what is the point, Torin?
”
My volume raised and my ears flooded
with the angry pounding of my heart.
“
What
is the point in any of it? Because ultimately, we don
’
t have control over anything at all!
”
I pulled from his hold and stood to
my feet, turning my back to him, and bracketing my hands on either side of the
cracked porcelain sink. The tormented reflection that stared back at me from
the mirror should have caught me off guard, but it didn
’
t.

This
was what I deserved to look like; this was how I deserved to feel.
“
He got in that car because I left.
There is no other reason that he should have been heading to the airport last
night. He would have stayed in D.C.
”
I dragged my fingers down my face and clenched my eyes shut.
“
Me.
”
I pushed a finger into my chest.
“
I
’
m
the reason he got
drunk, got in the car, and died. I
’
m
responsible for it, Torin.
”

“
Maybe, maybe not.
”
His voice quivered with a shaky
unsteadiness.
“
There
is no way we can know what he was thinking.
”

I
flipped around to face him, pressing my backside against the ledge of the sink.
He looked so vulnerable, so childlike, with his knees tucked to his chest, his
eye sockets pressed into the caps of them. Torin rocked back and forth in a
disturbing rhythm that was probably meant to soothe, but it didn
’
t appear to be working. The way his
shoulders rose and fell betrayed any attempt he made at covering up his
emotion.

“
Torin...
”
I muttered his name, but he
continued to rock without acknowledgement.
“
Torin.
”

“
I can't bear the responsibility
implied in that statement, Darby.
”
He didn
’
t
look at me. He didn
’
t
even lift his eyes from his knees. He spoke into the floor.
“
I can
’
t.
”
He shook his head, but since he was
still balled up, his whole body shook, like those Weebles from back when we
were kids. What was it?
Weebles wobble
but they don
’
t
fall down.
Torin never seemed to fall down. He swayed back and forth,
and caught himself at the last moment before angling to the other side every
time.

But
my statement
—
that
was enough to knock him completely over. His head slammed against the solid
frame of the stall.