by Sally Henson
47
Regan
The smell of Lane is gone from his sweater. I pull the neckline over my nose, inhale, and try to remember how it made my heart beat faster, but that feeling’s gone. And he’s gone.
I drift off to sleep, dreaming about Lane and bikinis.
The racket of Dad barging through my door wakes me. “Lane's on the phone,” he grumbles and crosses the room to my bedside. “Regan.” My mattress bounces from Dad banging his knee against it, trying to wake me.
I don’t answer. He flips on the light, and I pretend I’m still asleep. Dad grips my shoulder and shakes me. “Regan, Lane's on the phone.”
“I don't want to talk to him,” I croak.
“Why not?” He seems shocked.
I don't answer.
“She says she doesn't want to talk to you.” Dad stays planted in my room. “She didn't say.” Dad huffs out a breath. “Lane wants to know why you don't want to talk to him.”
I shake my head and cover my head with my pillow.
Dad mumbles something to Lane as he leaves my room without shutting the light off.
I drag myself off the bed and go to the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. In my closet are snacks and water I hid so I wouldn't have to leave my room to eat or get a drink. I haven't been hungry in days, but I need water to swallow down these pills I grabbed out of the medicine cabinet for my headache.
I don’t even bother taking my clothes off before I crawl under my covers and latch on to Lane’s sweater. Instead of clinging to his sweater, I should be burning it. But I can't. Not yet. It’s the one piece of him I have left.
What can I take for the pain of having my heart peeled, strand by strand, out of my chest?
“Regan.” Mom comes into my room again. She sits on the edge of my bed.
Why are my parents all of a sudden talking to me again? I want to yell, leave me alone!
“What's going on?” she asks with a concerned tone.
It almost makes me laugh. Like she cares, anymore. I keep my eyes closed and cover my head with Lane's sweater to keep the light out.
“Sweetie.” She rubs my arm. That's the first time she's touched me since the day Dad, and I had our big fight. Except when she checked to see if I had a fever, but that doesn’t count.
Mom waits for me to tell her what's going on. I don't answer or move. It feels like hours before she leaves, and I can fall back asleep.
The door to my room bangs against the wall, and the light flips on.
What’s the freaking deal tonight?
“Regan,” Dad says in his you’re-in-trouble tone. “Lane's on the phone.”
Like I care I’m in trouble. What more can he do? I have nothing left except my life. And I wouldn’t mind right now if he took it.
“You're going to talk to him if I have to hold the phone up to your ear.”
Is he going to answer for me too?
If I hear Lane's voice, it will only break my heart more. This torturous pain inside me is why friends should never be more than friends. Why didn’t I stick with the rules?
Dad pushes the phone against my ear.
I don’t utter a sound.
“Say something,” Dad growls.
I lay there like I'm dead, because I feel like I’m dying a slow, painful death. And then I hear it. The deep voice I knew would either push or pull me over the edge.
“Regan,” Lane says my name. It's one word. One word filled with fear and confusion. One word that triggers liquid heartbreak to drip out of the corner of my eyes like a leaky faucet, adding to the lake of tears already shed on his sweater.
“Regan, talk to me.”
My chest hiccups, but I don't speak. I couldn’t if I wanted to.
“I need to hear your voice.” His voice is a beautiful poison.
The drip of tears bursts into a silent stream.
Dad removes the phone from my ear and asks, “Why won’t you talk to him?” He sits on the edge of my bed, grazing my back with his hip.
I sniff and muster up the last of my dignity. “Tell him to ask Marco.”
48
Lane
I want to reach through this phone, pull Regan into my room, and make her look at me, make her talk to me.
“Who's Marco?” her Dad asks her, but I don’t hear her voice.
What does Marco have to do with anything? Why won’t she talk to me? This doesn’t make any sense.
“You're not going to talk to Lane?” Mr. Stone asks her.
Silence. That’s all I get until Mr. Stone sighs.
“Lane?”
“Yes, sir.” Maybe she said something else that I didn’t hear.
“I asked why she wouldn’t talk to you, and she said for you to ask Marco. That’s the only thing she’s said to me for days. Who’s Marco?”
I pounce on my bed, rubbing my forehead with my fingers. Marco always gets me in trouble. “He’s Stacey Faniger’s cousin. He goes to school here at Eastern. He’s not a friend. We don’t hang out together or anything.”
The first time I saw Marco, Stacey brought him to Tobi’s when we were having a G5 get together. Regan and I made out in the barn during couples’ hide and seek that night. It was so awesome, until Stacey showed up, and then Regan found out I told Cam about her and I being more than friends. She was so ticked at me.
When we made it back to the fire pit, Stacey was drunk and ended up hanging all over me. Regan didn’t want to claim we were a couple, so I let Stacey do what she wanted. It was a jerk move on my part. I was trying to make Regan hurt the way she hurt me by not wanting to tell our friends about us.
It worked.
And we had a big fight after Stacey left.
Mr. Stone clears his throat and speaks in a low voice. “Do you remember the conversation between the two of us we had not long ago?”
“Yes, sir. I remember.” How could I forget. He warned me about hurting Regan and in the same breath, reminded me about our deal to discourage Regan from marine science…which is the same thing as hurting her.
What a freaking mess.
“It sounds like you need to have a talk with this Marco fella and fix this. It’s one thing for Regan to be stubborn about being grounded, but it’s quite another to see her falling apart over you.”
“Mr. Stone, I would never do anything to hurt Regan. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to find out. Can I call tomorrow?” Regan’s still grounded, and I’m not sure if he’ll let me bend the rules.
“That might be a good idea. Good night, Lane.”
“Thanks for your help. Bye.” Regan’s dad hangs up and I fire the nerf ball the gang gave me against the door to my room and roar out my frustration.
What does Marco have to do with anything? I’ll call Cam. Maybe he knows.
“Dude, you okay in there?” Ross asks from the other side of my door.
I plop on my bed. “Come on in.” I take a deep breath, hold it for a beat, and slowly blow it out with my head hanging in my hands.
Ross comes in and chuckles. “Your hair is like, sticking out all over. Girl problems?”
I comb my fingers through my hair to knock it down. “How’d you know?”
He props himself against the corner of my door frame. “Every time you throw this ball against the door and yell, it’s because of a girl.” He smirks. “Is this why you were off tonight during practice?”
“Yeah, I guess. I need to make a phone call and I might need your help tracking someone down on campus. You up for it?”
“If it means getting your head back in the band, sure thing. Knock on my door when you’re ready.”
“You know what? I need to find Marco Affini. He’s been to our gigs at Ted’s Warehouse. He’s from Chicago and has a cousin that lives in Stelmo. I think they’re causing me some problems.” The thought of Stacey’s name pushes a surge of anger through me. Stacey equals gossip. What has she done?
“That’s not much to go on, but I’ll see if I can find him
online,” Ross says, pulling his phone out and tapping the screen as he leaves my room.
In the meantime, I’ll message Cam.
Me: What does Marco have to do with anything? Call me.
I wait and wait for Cam to respond. I’ll message Tobi, too. I hope it doesn’t make things worse.
Me: What’s going on with Regan and you and Marco?
Tobi: Oh, hi friend! Thanks for asking about me. I’m great. How are you?
Me: What’s going on with you two?
Tobi: Ask your girlfriend.
Me: Come on...
She gives me nothing. Girls!
Cam doesn’t get back to me, so I call him.
On the fifth ring he answers, “Hey, Dad.”
“I’m not your dad,” I grumble.
“Yeah, I know.”
I sigh. I’m sighing a lot today. “Regan won’t talk to me. What’s going on? What does Marco have to do with all this?”
Cam answers, “Okay, okay Dad. I’ll be right there. Bye.” And he hangs up.
I try to call him again, but he doesn’t answer. Crap!
My phone buzzes. It’s Cameron.
I answer, “Dude, what’s the deal?”
“Sorry. I was with Haylee and didn’t want her to know I was talking to you. I’m over all this stupid mess.”
“What does Marco have to do with it? You didn’t mention anything about him before.”
“Calm down, Lane. I’m not the enemy here.” Cam mumbles a curse and continues, “He doesn’t have anything to do with it as far as I know. Why won’t Regan talk to you?”
“Wish I knew. She told her dad that I should ask Marco. I was hoping you’d know something.”
“No clue. This is what I know…the girls are making a big deal about you spending all your time with Regan. I think they’re jealous of her because of that. And they might have some delusion she’s using being grounded as an excuse to not help Tobi.”
I stand in the middle of my room and swing my free arm out wide. “What? That’s crazy.”
“Oh,” Cam continues, “and they’re pissed about you not saying anything about joining a band. I’m pissed about that too.”
“Sorry, man. I should’ve. It’s just been crazy the past month.” I let out a frustrated groan. “But why won’t she talk to me? I haven’t seen Marco for weeks. Hey, ask Haylee for me.”
“No way. She thought Regan and I had a secret fling going on. I’m done with her bullshit.”
I pause and swallow down the thought of Cam going after Regan. He wouldn’t do that to me. Would he? The memory of milkshakes with him on graduation day flash in my mind. He used to have a thing for her. “Do you have a secret fling going on? Why would Haylee think that?”
“Hell no! I wouldn’t do anything like that if you’re with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry. It’s just—I’m going at this blind and it’s making me freakin’ crazy.” I run my hand through my hair and stare up at the ceiling. Think. Think. “If Marco’s involved, Stacey has something to do with it.”
“I’ll try to talk to Regan again tomorrow. She wouldn’t talk to me today, so…” Cam blows out a long breath. “I’ve never seen her like this. She looks depressed.”
Depressed? I just saw her like a week ago and she was fine. Okay, it was over a week ago.
Cam cuts into my thoughts. “I’ll see if I can get anything out of Stacey. Maybe she’ll gloat about it.”
“Bingo!” Ross yells across the hall. “Think I found him.”
“Thanks. I think we found Marco. Message me when you find something out.”
Cam groans. “Man, what happened to our low-maintenance girls?”
I stare out my window at the lights lining the walkways and think about the fun we had when they all came up for the football game. “I wish they were back.”
“Yeah,” Cam mumbles. “Maybe the rules were a good thing, after all.”
I can’t even go there.
49
Regan
Hunger pangs gnaw at my stomach from the aroma of supper seeping under my door. Food hasn’t been important lately. Besides, I’m hoping the pain distracts this heartache that makes me hurt all over.
I take a sip of my last water bottle and crawl under my covers as Dad’s headlights stream across the naked trees, shining through my window. Please fall asleep before he comes in here. Please fall asleep so my brain stops playing back that day at the creek this summer. Pre-more than friends. Before every little kiss sucked me into this disaster of more than each other.
Breaking the rules ruined everything.
My door creaks open. “Lane’s on the phone. Get up,” Dad commands.
Happiness flickers and teases me when I hear Lane’s name. Daydreaming about all the perfect moments caused me to miss him. But then the images Stacey showed me burn in my brain, and all that’s happened this week comes crashing down on my chest again.
Dad can demand and command all he wants. I didn’t talk to Lane last night and I’m not talking to him tonight either. “He's your best friend, isn't he?”
A sob rocks my insides. He used to be my best friend. He used to be my boyfriend. He used to be part of my future. When I had a future. Now I have nothing. No friends. No college. No career. No security blanket. No safety net. I’m left with my four walls and Nowhereville.
“Regan.” Dad’s gruff voice warns me he’s going to have a come apart if I don’t do what he wants. “You two need to talk this out. Now take the phone and talk to him.”
There’s nothing to talk out. It’s a repeat of Johanna in the coffee house. But this time it’s with Brea. This is what Lane does. He lets girls hang all over him. Tobi said it the night we came back from our field trip to Eastern. It’s not his fault he’s good looking, but he wants to be the nice guy and let it happen. Girls love a hot guy in a band. It’s a one-two punch.
The knots that never seem to go away anymore twist and rumble in my stomach, replacing the hunger.
“Do you want me to ground you longer?”
Is he serious? That actually makes me laugh for the first time since I don’t know when. “Like it matters.”
Dad sets the phone on my face so I can hear Lane, and growls, “Talk to him.”
“Regan?” Lane’s voice sounds like an angel. It’s so beautiful I start crying. Why do I have to cry?
Dad leaves and closes the door behind him for once.
“Regan, it’s me. Are you there?” No wonder girls in bikinis were surrounding him. He can turn his voice into a silky chocolate that melts your insides.
I tighten my arms around me. I don’t think they can hold me together for much longer. His voice makes me hurt more than I already did. “Yeah,” I croak out.
“I tracked Marco down. You won’t talk to me because of the pictures he sent Stacey?”
I don't answer. Isn’t it obvious the pictures show there’s a problem? He didn’t even tell me about the girls on stage or the bikinis or the fact he was playing at a huge Greek party. Lane can act dumb all he wants, but he, at the very least, had the chance to talk to me Sunday and didn’t.
“Regan, talk to me. I can't read your mind.”
He used to. Lane used to be able to read my mind. I was always amazed how he knew what I was thinking. This proves that we aren't in tune with each other any longer. He has Brea. My chest shakes at that thought.
The phone slips onto the bed. I pick it up and place it back to my ear.
“What happened between you and Tobi?” His voice is soft and tender, and I wish he were here to hold me, but I know that will never happen again.
I catch my breath through the shudders enough to say, “I counted on you. You were all I had left.”
“I’m right here.”
“Yeah, with bikini girls.”
“It was just a fraternity-sorority thing the girls had to do. The band played, and they had some kind of bikini pledge or contest or whatever.”
He acts like it’s no big deal.
Like I’m the one who’s at fault.
Anger coils around the edge of the hurt he’s putting me through. I sit up and spit the fire that’s been burning my insides. “I knew when I saw Johanna at the coffee shop. I had a gut feeling, but I thought we worked all that out. I hoped it was just Johanna being a jerk. All the bikini girls hanging all over you prove there’s always going to be another girl. Proved I’m not enough. And Brea? You told me you didn’t want a girl like Brea. Do you remember that? It drove me crazy watching her hang all over you at that party after your graduation. And you let her. And then you did it again. You’ll always do it again.”
The words rush out of him, “There's nothing going on with her or anyone else. I promise.”
I muster a bitter laugh and look down at my blankets, wishing this was a bad prank. I clear my throat, hoping for a strong voice. “It's okay. My dad, Linc, Susanna … they were right. We don’t live in the same world anymore.” I take an uneven breath. “And my world is falling apart.”
“What do you mean? Talk to me,” he pleads in that low voice I can never deny.
What do I mean? Where has he been the last four months? I lay out how my fears are now reality. “I've been holding on to a childish dream. I really thought I could do it. That my friends would be there for me. You said you would always be here for me, but you’re not.” My voice falls apart, and I can barely get the last word out. I still remember the day Lane told me I was childish, and Cam called me a dreamer. It seems they were right all along.
“Regan—”
“No.” I sniff. “Life gave me a good dose of reality. It’s what you and the gang have been hoping for all summer. Isn’t it?” I stifle a sob and try to keep my breath from being so ragged. “I thought I was going to get out of here.”
“Regan, you're not making any sense.”
I lay back down on my bed and face the dark wall. “Yeah, I guess I never have.” I sniff and wipe my tears with the sheet. “We should’ve waited our hormones out or something. It wouldn't hurt so bad if I still had my best friend.”