Living With Regret (3 page)

His grin widens as he follows the path of my eyes. “What are you looking at?”

I swallow the lump in my throat, shifting my focus up. “Umm … nothing. I mean. I was—”

He laughs. “Hey, I was only teasing.” He reaches his hand up toward my face but quickly pulls it back. “Did you just get here?”

I nod, still shocked that Cory is actually talking to me. I’m afraid if I say too much, it’s all going to come out wrong. And this is probably the one and only time he’s ever going to talk to me. I have to make it count.

“I was just heading outside if you want to come with me,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.

I’m frozen in place, staring into his glassy blues. This is my chance, but I’m not sure I’m ready for it. “I don’t know.”

Madison pushes against my back, practically sending me straight into his chest. “I’ll just wait in here, Rachel.”

Before I have time to argue, he wraps his hand around mine and pulls me toward the back of the old farmhouse. As I follow close behind, I glance around the packed room noticing all the sets of eyes on us. Most notably is Sam, whose hooded eyes follow me. When I see him pushing back against the wall, I shake my head. He’s always been my protector, but he’s a senior and won’t be around next year. I need to learn to navigate through life on my own. He stops, his eyes narrowing in on me, but I quickly look away before he convinces me otherwise.

“Rachel!” he yells from behind me before I can get too far.

I turn my head, taking in his parted lips and pained eyes. For a second, I think about ditching Cory and disappearing with Sam, but I don’t. I told myself high school was going to be about me taking chances. Sam isn’t a risk … he’s always been the one to catch me.

I pull my lower lip between my teeth and smile, burying the nervous butterflies deeper in my stomach. Sam understands what I’m trying to tell him right away. Dejected, he lowers his eyes and rubs his hand along his strong jaw.

Unable to watch, I focus on Cory. Letting him lead me through the crowd again. The voice in my head keeps telling me Sam will ask me to stay. If he says the words, I will. He doesn’t, though.

When Cory and I step outside, he still doesn’t let go of my hand. I don’t pull it away either because it feels too good. “Are you having fun?” he asks, so close I can feel his warm breath against my cheek.

I open my mouth, but quickly close it again, trying my best to compose myself. The last thing I want to do is sound like a complete idiot the minute I’m alone with the god of our freshman class. “I just got here,” I finally reply, gazing up at him. He’s lit only by the moonlight, and Cory under the moonlight is something to be seen.

“Well, you’re staying for a while, aren’t you?” He smiles, and I swear I’ve never seen dimples like his.

I nod, feeling his warm finger brush against the skin below my ear. “Good.” His voice is soft but smooth, like melted butter. Warm tingles run the entire length of my body. Everything about this suddenly feels right.

We’d been together ever since that night. He was my first date, first kiss, and first love. I let him have everything because I thought he’d be my only. Things have changed now, and nothing will ever be the same. Everything I thought, felt, wanted is gone, and I’d do anything to have him back.

It should have been me who didn’t make it out of that car. Living without him is going to be worse than not living at all.

The door clicks, and another nurse walks in with my medical chart in hand. Her expression becomes sympathetic when she sees my tear-stained cheeks.

“How are you feeling, Rachel?”

I shake my head, unable to put into words what is going through my mind. Why would someone even ask me that?

“Are you in pain?” she asks, fastening the blood pressure cuff around my arm.

I nod, turning my attention out the window on the other side of the room. I’m not sure if it’s the physical or emotional pain that runs deeper, but I’m not going to explain that to her. She wouldn’t understand … no one would.

After taking my vitals, she smoothes my long blonde hair away from my face … the way my mother had done just hours ago. “I’m going to give you something to help you sleep. You need to get some rest.”

My eyelids grow heavy just minutes after she leaves, and before I have time to object, temporary relief finds me. It doesn’t last long, though, and my mind drifts off to the land of memories and confusion again. The same scenes continue to play, and I let them. I wish there was a way to climb into them, to go back in time.

When I wake up, the room is dark. Blinking the sleep away, I glance around the quiet space in search of my mom. She should have been back hours ago. I need her, more than I ever have before.

The whole time I slept, I heard Cory calling my name. I tried to run after him, but I couldn’t catch him. It was foggy and dark, but I could still see him looking back at me every once in a while. It fueled me to move faster, but the distance between us didn’t close. Now that I’m awake, I realize it was just a dream. I’ll never touch Cory again; my whole life will be spent chasing those memories, but not being able to catch them.

“Rachel.” I glance over, spotting Madison standing in the corner of the room. Her shoulder-length brown hair is pinned back away from her face. She looks tired, much the same way Mom did before.

When I don’t respond, she moves closer, curling her fingers around my forearm. Madison’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Our moms were best friends, and we’ve done everything together since we were babies: baths, swimming and dance lessons, and family trips. We understand each other, especially the pressure our parents put on us to be the best at everything. We both did everything we could to get straight A’s in school, and if it weren’t for calculus, I would have accomplished it. We joined every committee we could, just like our mothers had in their high school days: prom, yearbook, and homecoming. Looking back at it now, it was exhausting. I lost a lot of myself trying to be what my parents wanted me to be. It doesn’t seem worth it now.

She takes the seat next to my bed, watching me carefully. “You look like you’re doing better than the last time I saw you.” I wonder when that was, but I don’t ask. It doesn’t matter. “How are you feeling?”

I look away from her. It’s a stupid question—one I’m so tired of hearing. How does she think I am? I woke up with no memory of what put me here and just found out my boyfriend is dead. I know it happened. I’m not in denial, but I’m also not ready to talk about it. It makes it that much more real.

“I used some of your photos to put together a slide show for the funeral. I saved it for when you’re ready to watch it,” she says quietly, leaning her cheek against the side of the bed.

Funeral. The thought never crossed my mind, but there had to have been a funeral. One I didn’t get to attend. Anger floods me, but I quickly push it away. No one’s going to wait seventeen days for a funeral, yet I know it was my chance to say my goodbyes … a chance I won’t get now unless I find a way to do it on my own. It’s not fair … but none of this is fair.

“How are his parents doing?” I whisper. The words almost stick in my throat. Cory was their only son, the youngest of three kids. He was his father’s pride and joy. In his eyes, Cory could do no wrong. It’s how most of our small town viewed Cory. It’s exactly how I saw him … how I
still
see him.

“About as good as you’d expect given the circumstances. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a child—your only son.”

More tears slip from my eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“How much do you remember?” she asks, looking down at the bleached white sheets.

A thought hits me. Maybe she can fill in the gaps. Maybe she remembers something about that night that I don’t. “Not much. Can you help me? I need to know something—anything.”

“I didn’t get home from school until the morning after,” she says, glancing down at her fingers.

“I thought you were coming home the same day Cory and I did. I remember talking to you about it. Did your plans change?” I’m so confused. Maybe I imagined that too. Being stuck in a permanent fog really sucks.

She stands, folding her arms over her chest. She can’t seem to look at me so she stares out the window instead. “I told you not to drink so much at parties, Rachel. I wish … I wish someone had stopped you.”

“What?” I watch her as she briefly looks at me then turns away again. It doesn’t even matter that she didn’t answer my question. “What do you mean by that? Tell me.”

Her hand slides down, covering mine, but her eyes drift away. “You were driving that night. When they found you, there was alcohol in your system.”

My vision blurs, and the room spins even faster than it was before. Cory’s not just dead … I killed him. I’m the reason he’s not here.

Choices. We make them every day, but this one … this one is one I’ll live to regret forever.

BY THE TIME THE
doctor finally makes it into my room to check me over, the gray skies have been replaced by night skies. I should know because my eyes have been fixated on the window since Madison left a couple hours ago. There was so much more I wanted to ask her, but it was all lost after she told me I’d been drinking. Everything ended there, and she left soon after without saying more than a goodbye.

My throat still burns, but the water I asked for hours ago is the last thing on my mind. Besides, I deserve the pain … after what I’ve done, I deserve much more than this.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, pulling his stethoscope from around his neck. He’s a middle-aged, balding man who wears a worried, pensive expression on his face.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“And you’re lucky. I saw pictures of your car in the newspaper.” I don’t even want to think about what that looked like. I wouldn’t be able to handle it, knowing the fear that Cory probably felt in his last minutes. I wonder what he was thinking. Did we say anything to each other? I wish I could remember that much. I hope I told him I love him. That’s what I’d want to say, if I had the choice.

The doctor presses the cold metal to my chest, listening to my heartbeat. I wonder if he hears my heart breaking, and if a heart under the weight of misery sounds different than one with a normal beat.

“You sound good. How’s the throat?”

“Hurts,” I whisper. Everything hurts. Pure, freaking agony lives inside every part of me.

“I’ll have the nurse bring you some water. Is there anything else I can get you?” Why is he being so nice to me? I need someone to yell at me, to tell me this is my fault … it should have been me. I need someone to justify what I feel inside. To rip me apart the way I’ve been ripping myself apart the last couple hours.

Shaking my head, I focus on the window again. Darkness … that’s all I need. I should’ve stayed there when I had it. It wasn’t my favorite place, but it was better than this.

“Okay. Tomorrow we’re going to run some tests to see how your brain is healing, and then I should have a better idea of when you’ll get to go home. Hopefully it won’t be too much longer.”

It dawns on me that no one has explained what my prognosis is or why I’ve been sleeping for seventeen days. “What happened? I mean, why have I been here for so long?”

“You hit your head pretty hard, had some serious swelling, so we had to put you in a medically-induced coma so you could heal. We expect you to make a full recovery,” he says, a sad smile forming.

All I can do is nod as he lightly pats my knee. A full recovery means nothing to me. I’ll never go back to the life I had before all this.

When he’s finally gone, I let my tears fall on my pillow, remembering more of what I’ve lost. Everything I lost…

“I swear you were the prettiest girl in that room,” Cory says, pulling me out onto the golf course. There was a fundraiser that both our families attended tonight, and now that our parents have had a few drinks, we manage to sneak out. Stolen moments are few and far between at these things … it’s all about keeping up appearances. Fake smiles. Forced conversations.