No Regrets (4 page)

“What
?”

“
Today was fun, right? Come work at the pool with us.”

“It was fun,” I say slowly, trying to catch his angle “But my argument about Tate still stands.”

He turns into the apartment complex and finds a parking space. He shifts into gear and pulls up the parking break. Looking directly at me with those lethal blue eyes he says, “Are you sure Tate’s the real reason you won’t work with us?”

And there it is. I turn away from his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The last interaction between us was when you wrote that poem about me in the school newspaper.”

My heart jumps to my throat and I cough. “Why do you think that was about you?”

“Zadie.”

“Henry.”

“When added together, the first letter of each line spelled out Fuck You Henry Fletcher.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that.”

Right before prom, when he’d made it clear he wasn’t going to take me but no one else could either I took my vengeance out with my pen. It’s not just my mouth that gets me in trouble but my hands
, too. Unfortunately for Henry, the newspaper supervisor, Mrs. Chance, didn’t realize the secret message in my writing.

I don’t have a lot to defend myself with, so I shift the blame back to Tate. “That has nothing to do with it. I just don’t want to deal with Tate and his womanizing all summer.”

He tenses his jaw. After an awkward pause he seems to let
the topic drop. “I can’t either. There is no way I can work with them all summer. I caught them in the back seat of Tate’s car the other day during adult swim. The flirting is nauseating. I’m afraid I’ll walk into them all the time.”

I wrinkle my nose in disgust. “Yeah, no thanks.”

He drops his head against the car seat. “Please
, Zadie. You’re my only hope. Don’t leave me with them alone all summer.”

“
What makes you think I won’t fall prey to Tate Christensen myself?”

“I’m sure you will,” he chuckl
es darkly. “But at least I can call you on it if you do.”

I twist in my seat so I’m facing him.
“First of all, I won’t fall for him. I’ve known him for years and even if I was interested, trust me, he’s not in return. I have a brain and my boobs are too small. Second, I already told you no. I got stuck working with him already. He sucks.”

He studies me with an impressed grin
and says, “What if I can get him to promise not to bring any girls to the pool?”

I give him a suspicious look. “
You know that won’t work.”

“I think it will. He wants Shelly gone anyway.”

I narrow my eyes. “Wait, what? Why?”

“
I guess he’s done with her.”

“You’re kidding, right?
” I’m incredulous. “He’s such a pig.”

“
I think he prefers the one night stand and it’s all too close. Look, I don’t care, but if I can get him to agree, will you come? I need some sort of rational person there. Also, together we can gang up on him.”

“Hmm…
” I consider. “I do like that idea. Can we make him clean the bathrooms?”

A wider smile crosses his face. “I think I can arrange that.”

I look out the car window. I really don’t want to spend the summer trapped inside. And spending time with Henry at work is the best way to get his full attention. “I’ll do it,” I say. “But only if he agrees. I have some other rules, too.”

“Like what?” He frowns.

“No weed at work. I’m not dealing with a pothead.”

He lifts an eyebrow but nods. “Okay.”

“And no sexist jokes. Or rude behavior from either of you.”

“Obviously,” he rolls his eyes.

It may be that I’m lightheaded from the sun and heat or I’m just simply exhausted, but I rub my eyes with my hands and say, “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Excellent
,” he says, with a huge, adorable grin. He offers me his hand over the center console and I brace myself not to sway from the feeling of his hand in mine. This is going to be a disaster.

“When do I start?”
I ask once we’re out of the car.

“Tomorrow. I’ll drive.” He starts up the steps
but pauses. “I have one condition, too.”

“What?”

“I’m serious about you not falling for that puppy dog face thing he does to chicks. I’ll call you on it.”

“What face?”
I ask. Henry rolls his eyes and then stuns me making his own sexy pout. My knees give out from under me and I grab the railing. Where the hell did that come from? I gather myself and declare, “I’m immune to Tate Christensen and I’m damn sure he’s immune to me.”

“Good.”

I may be immune to Tate, but Henry Fletcher is another situation all together.

*

Chapter Four

I sleep until nine, relishing the fact I didn’t have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn.

“Look at you,” Josh says, glimpsing over his laptop at the kitchen table. “Two days in a row. I thought you’d turned into a vampire.”

“Yo
u wish.” I point to my red blistered skin. “No sparkles though.”

“Ha ha.” He gives me a stink eye. Josh had a notorious crush on Edward Cullen our senior year in high school. He pushed hard for a Twilight
-themed prom. Sadly (for him) he lost out to Gatsby and the roaring 20’s. He’s still bitter.

I reach for a bottle of OJ and take a swig. Josh slips a pencil behind his ear and say
s, “So have you made your move on Henry yet?”

“No. But he asked me to work with him at the outdoor pool. And we spent the day together yesterday. I’m working my way in.”

“Good job,” he says, looking impressed. “What’s the next step in Operation Payback?”

“Luring him with my feminine wiles.”

Josh clamps a hand over his mouth to keep the coffee from spraying everywhere. “You’re kidding.”

“
Hey!” I protest. “I have some tricks up my sleeve. Henry will never know what hit him.”

“If you say so.”

I leave Josh in the kitchen and start downstairs. I want to argue with him but I know he’s right. Contrary to Austin High rumor, I’m not really that adept at seducing guys. All I’ve managed to prove time and time again is that I know how to cause a scene. Now, in a new setting, I’m determined to see where things really stand with Henry. Can we go back to the starting place? Can I forget the bumpy path I’ve taken since our relationship changed?

*

The warm sun hits my face and I take a deep breath. Then another. Thank God for fresh air and sunshine and being outdoors. I want to grab Henry and Tate in hugs of appreciation, but I don’t. Mostly because my skin is still tender from the sun yesterday.  Also, I’m not convinced Tate will hold to our deal and I’m trying not to be offended by the idea Henry thinks I’m so unappealing Tate won’t even try to make a move on me.

The pool itself
is pretty nice. Three sides consist of rows of lounge chairs and tables set up with umbrellas. There’s a fenced-off baby pool, and near the entrance, a grassy field with a playground. We’re standing just outside of a stone shelter that has a big sitting area and also houses the changing rooms and a guard office.

“So what happened to Shelly?” I ask, considering for the first time someone
had to switch positions for me to move to the outdoor pool.

“It took some finagling but
I moved her to a camp position and switched Jeff to the indoor pool,” Tate says.

I think of nerdy, skinny
, paler-than-a-ghost Jeff. “Poor Jeff.”

“Eh, he actually volunteered. Somethi
ng about sunstroke and bugs. I don’t know.”

Henry
shows me the basics of the pool, how we’ll rotate chairs every hour.  Two in the seats and one walking around the deck. 

“Which chair do you want first?” he asks.

Despite my red skin I pick the one in the blazing sun. “That one.”

W
e move to our separate positions. I pull off my shirt but keep my shorts on over my red suit. Tate has been shirtless since I got here and I’ve made every attempt not to perv out on his chest. It’s really, really hard not to look.

“Do
n’t forget sunscreen,” Henry says, holding me a bottle.

Ignoring him, I climb up the ladder and into the chair by the deep end and settle in. Henry takes the other while Tate strolls around the deck.

The pool fills up with moms and young kids in the morning and it shifts to teens around lunch.
Lifeguarding seems boring but when the pool is crowded, like today, things are pretty active. I do have to force my mind not to wander over to Henry and check him out, or think about the way his abs would feel under my fingers or what his pouty lips taste like.

Around noon, I realize with delight,
how much my deal with Tate will torture him. The pool moms have caught his attention. And vice versa.

“Our deal includes them,” I warn during a break. We’re under the shelter cooling off.

“Who?”

“Those cougars eyeing you from across the pool.”

He doesn’t look up from the sheet where he’s recording the chemical data, but his eyebrow quirks just enough that I know he’s aware of who I’m taking about.

As
if on cue, one of the moms comes over, swaying her tiny hips to ask Tate about reserving a private party. Her bathing suit is un-ironically leopard print and she wears huge sunglasses. A tidy pony-tail holds back her long flowing hair. She stumbles over the word private and rests her hand on her shoulder, toying with her bikini strap.

“Oh man,” I mutter, walking over to Henry.
“There’s no way he can go the whole summer without hitting that.”

“Prob
ably not, but as long as he keeps it off pool property it’s cool, right?”

I glance over at Mrs. Robinson t
leaning as close to Tate as possible. He leans against the building, arms crossed over his tan, rock solid chest. An irrational wave of jealousy rolls over me. “Not really. She has kids and a wedding ring on.”

“I th
ink you’re getting burned,” Henry says, interrupting my judging.. I look down and see how red my chest has turned. “Your neck is bad, too. You want me to spray some lotion on?”

“No,” I say, walking back to
the shelter to grab my shirt.

“Oh
, honey,” the woman says, leaning across him to touch my arm. “Make sure you watch that.”

“I’
m fine, thanks,” reaching for my t-shirt to cover up. Great. Mrs. Robinson-Sassy Vixen can prance around in her bikini but I have to cover myself up because I’m a ghost. Or an over-boiled lobster. Ugh.

“You don’t think she really wants to schedule a party do you?” I ask once she walks away.
I tie my shirt into a knot at my waist.

“Who cares?” he said, eyes glued to her backside.
“I’m game for whatever she wants.”

I don’t care.
I
don’t
. But I catch myself staring at
his
back and curse myself.

“She’s hot,” Henry says, joining our conversation.

“You too?” I say. I study her as she walks away. She’s not even that pretty. Long, basic brown hair. Her body’s killer but her face is sort of meh. Oh my God, I need to stop judging other women that I am not jealous of. Not.

He shrugs. “I’ve got no problem with older women.”

He and Tate bump fists and I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Whatever. You two suck.”

I le
ave them in a fit of laughter, blowing my whistle to drown them out.

*

That night
, alone in my apartment, I gingerly lift my shirt off my back and wince at the pain. My skin has puckered like a lobster. I feel like one, too. I need lotion. I need soothing. I need something and someone to make it better, but Josh and Tricia left me to suffer alone.

Ouch.

I wrap myself in a hot pink cover-up, the kind you wear at the pool with no straps. I lie face down on the couch with the remote control and a Diet Coke. I realize too late that I’ve forgotten the candy.

I’d planned to write tonight since I’d been busy and tired lately.
Finding time usually wasn’t a problem for me, not since transferring schools. I’d lost that creative part of myself at Elton, opting for boyfriends and keggers.  Part of the reason for coming to the University was to settle back into my writing ways. But this sunburn hurts like a fucker and there’s no way I can focus.

I’m watching a food show when someone knocks. “Who is it?” I
yell, still stomach down and not planning on moving anytime soon.

“It’s Henry.”

“What do you want?”

“Um, to come in? You left your bag in my car.”

“Fine, okay, come in.” At least he can’t tell I’m embarrassed.

Henry walks in, brown and glowing from his day in the sun.
He’s got my bag over his shoulder and has on a T-shirt with Bob Marley on the front. When he finally looks up, his eyes pop wide open. He fights a laughs and says, “Oh hell.”

“It’s not funny
.” My cheek presses against the couch, making the words come out weird. “It hurts, Henry,” I whine.

“It looks like it.” He drops the bag on the coffee
table. “I told you to wear sunscreen.”

“
Don’t rub it in.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Yes!” I struggle to my elbows. “There’s chocolate by the microwave. Will you bring me some?”

“Sure.” He disappears into the kitchen. I’m sure his apartmen
t has the same layout. “How many pieces do you want?”

“Just bring all of it.” Why even lie?

Henry sets the candy dish on the couch in front of me. I’m surprised when he takes a seat in the armchair.  Sure, we work together now, but we aren’t exactly friends.  “So what’s this show?”

“
Man vs. Food, haven’t you seen it?”

“Nah, we don’t have cable downstairs.”

“Really?” Who doesn’t have cable?

“My roommate is a film major. All he watches is movies. Like four or five a day. He’s completely obsessed.”

“Well, this guy that travels around and eats crazy food. Like monster hamburgers or the hottest wings in the world.”

We sit together in silence for a while, me ea
ting candy, him watching cable and occasionally glancing in my direction. I’ve noticed that whenever someone doesn’t have cable they act like they don’t care until they get around it. Then they turn into zombies. Their brains try to absorb all the pop culture at once.

“Want one?” I ask through a mouthful of chocolate and caramel.

He takes one. “I bet Sid could do that,” he says, referring to the host of the show eating a pizza the size of a dining room table.

“Who’s Sid?”

“One of my roommates. The one with the shaved head. The other is Charlie.”

I shake my head. No clue. “
I haven’t really noticed them. I just moved in,” I say in defense.

“Oh right. I forgot,” he says. His eyes flick in my direction and back at the TV. “Where were you before?”

“A small school in Tennessee. Elton.”

“I know it.”

“You do?” No one ever recognizes the name.

“S
ure. I’ve heard of it.” He chews his candy and I can’t help but stare at his perfect jaw. Or jaw of perfection. Whichever he’s so freaking hot. “Why did you transfer?”

I shrug. “Just wasn’t happy I guess.”

“Being away from home can be hard, especially that far.”

“It wasn’t homesickness,” I say. “It was too small, like way too small. It was giving me—“

I stop short, but he seems genuinely interested. “Giving you what?”

“I started having anxiety attacks,” I admit for
the first time. I have no idea why I’m telling Henry but I keep talking anyway. “I felt too exposed in such a small environment, like I couldn’t breathe.”

“
So you picked one of the biggest universities in the south instead?”

“Yep.”

“So the small school made you a little neurotic but the big school makes you feel safe. I guess it’s pretty easy to get lost here.”

“Exactly. That’s how I want it. To get lost.”

His blue eyes bore into mine. I shove another piece of candy in my mouth and glance away. When I look back again, Henry’s not looking at my face but lower. I glance down. My top has slipped down and my boobs are half out. Good grief. I tug the fabric up. No wonder he wanted to stay. Damn.

Busted, he bli
nks and meets my eye quickly. The tips of his ears turn red and he shifts in his seat. It feels like an eternity before he focuses back on the TV.

It’s not long before m
an conquers food, the host managing to eat the giant pizza. Henry rubs the back of his neck and says, “The guys probably wonder where I went. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks for bringing my bag.” I grimace, lifting myself off m
y stomach to a sitting position, making sure to keep the goods covered this time. I want to drive him wild, not scar him for life. “And getting that candy. I was kind of obsessing over it.”

Henry smiles and I see how it makes crinkly line
s around his eyes and how he still has that one crooked tooth. “Night, Zadie.”

“Night.”

Chapter Five