No Regrets (5 page)

My sunburn fades and my back and neck turn into a peeling mess. I’m like a snake shedding its skin.

“Dude, h
ow can you do that?” Tate watches us with a clear look of disgust on his face.

“It’s addictive,” Henry says.

Heavy, rain-filled clouds threaten to dump on us any minute. The pool is pretty quiet other than a couple of moms and kids near the baby area. Mrs. Robinson has spent the day trying to get Tate’s attention by roaming around the pool deck in her bikini, making jokes with him and being a general nuisance. Right now she’s spread eagle on a lounge chair. Desperate much?

Since everything is so calm
, I’m sitting on a stool in front of Henry while he peels my back skin off in long strips. His fingers are gentle and every once in a while he grazes just below my ear.

“Oh my God,” Henry says. “This one is huge.”

I fight another ticklish shudder as his fingers touch my back.

“Gross,” Tate
says and disappears into the office. Although in general we all are getting along okay, Henry and I have become friendly pretty fast. Tate seems at a loss when we hang out, confused by our conversations and connections.

“Okay,” Henry says in my ear. “Buffy.”

“Season six.”

“Really? Season six is sort of dirty with the Spike stuff.”

I shrug, I like Spuffy, I won’t deny it. “How about Angel?”

“Season five,” he says.

I smile. “Me too.”

We’re playing what’s your favorite season of various classic television shows. This started after we got into a discussion of the awesome that is Joss Whedon. “Angel or Spike,” he asks.

“Apples and oranges,” I tell him. His fingers brush across my back looking for a loose piece of peeling skin. “Drucilla or Harmony?”

“Drucilla.”

We continue playing for a while until Tate comes over and says, “Listen, Henry why don’t you knock off. There are not enough people to justify all three of us being here and Zadie already has tomorrow off.”

“Yeah, okay.” Henry looks at me. “You need me to come back and pick you up?”

“Uh,” I start. We’d been riding to work every day in his car since I just have my bike. “I can call Josh.”

“I can give you
a ride,” Tate says and adds, “if you want.”

“Sure. Sounds good.” I’m a little bummed Henry’s leaving early since we have a good time together
, but Tate’s not so bad. A little boring and definitely douche, but he’s still major eye candy.

Henry grabs his things and leaves with a wave. I settle back in my chair watching the three little boys in the baby pool splashing around.
Another pair of girls play mermaid in the shallow end.

“So you like all that geek stuff?” Tate asks, dropping in the chair Henry just vacated.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Last year I dressed like Thor for my frat’s summer party.”

I can’t help but smile. The idea of Tate dressed like Thor is sort of adorable. And smoking hot. “Did you carry a big hammer?”

He lifts an eyebrow. “I’m always carrying a big hammer.”

“Nasty,” I say, but I’m laughing and so is he. “Sounds like a cool party idea.”

“
It’s a rager. They have it to coincide with the blockbuster movie stuff since there are so many action movies in the summer,” he explains. “You should come this year. You’d make a killer Black Widow.”

I duck my head.
Black Widow is the sexiest of all the female superheroes. Tight black jumpsuit. Kick-ass boots. Scarlett Johansson hips and chest. No way I could pull it off. And no thanks on the frat thing.

Been there-done that.

A crack of thunder stops me from answering and Tate blows his whistle, making all the kids get out of the water. Fat drops of rain start to fall and the moms scurry to get the kids out of the water and their belongings to the car before the storm hits. Mrs. Robinson is the last to leave, swishing her hips by Tate. He offers to carry her stuff to the car.

Again, I note, that there’s n
o way he gets through the summer without hitting on her. Or banging her.

Tate and I huddle under the shelter, unable to leave until Cindy calls. “This sucks,” I say, wiping the rain off my face with a towel and sit at a picnic table.

“Totally.” Tate sits on the bench next to me. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I have no idea where this is going but what comes out of his mouth is a total surprise.

“What’s this Buffy thing?”

“Buffy? The Vampire Slayer?”

“Yeah, I heard you and Henry talking about it.”

I frown. “Just a TV show. It’s not on anymore.”

“Oh,” he says, a little defeated.

“I have it on DVD if you want to watch it.”

His face lights up and it’s like the parting of the Red Sea. Beauty in the middle of a raging storm. “Really?”

“Sure.”

“That would be awesome.”

“How about tonight?” he asks. “I could come to your house, you know, since I live with a bunch of cavemen.”

“Tonight?”

“Sure
, I don’t have anything else to do. Do you?”

I shake my head and flinch at another huge crack of thunder. No. I don’t have anything planned except now Tate Christensen is coming to my apartment and how did that even happen?

*

“What’s he doing here?” Tricia whispers in the kitchen.

“Honestly? I have no freaking clue, but who am I to deprive anyone of the glory of Joss Whedon and Buffy?”

“Maybe you accidentally seduced him instead of Henry.”

“Doubtful.” But to be honest, other than the disgusting skin peeling thing, which seems to turn Henry on a little bit, I’ve been looking pretty good lately.

“I’ve got this political dinner thing I have to go to or I’d stay.”

“Eh, it’s okay. We work together all the time. It’s not that awkward.”

That is a total lie. Everything about this is awkward. From Tate being in my apartment to him stretched out on Josh’s ratty couch he inherited from his older brother. It smells like cheese and dog.

“Have fun,” Tricia says
, passing us on the way out the door. She winks at me. Ugh.

“Later,” Tate says.

“You ready? Episode one?”

“Yep.” He reaches for one of the beers on the table in front of him and offers me one. I take it because obviously I need to curb some of the edginess.

H
ours later I can hardly stifle my yawn. I’m curled up on the couch, my toes pressing into Tate’s leg.  We’ve watched six episodes and Tate’s hooked, pausing the show to ask questions but digging the mythology. It’s weird. All of this is weird, but I’m tired and he’s gonna have to leave.

“You want to take the rest with you?” I ask once the last episode is over.

“Oh,” he says. “Don’t you want to watch them together?”

There are eight seasons of Buffy. It will take us weeks to watch all of them. He looks so hopeful though I’m not sure how to tell him no. “Well, we can watch some of them. Why don’t you take the rest of this season home and we’ll get together in a couple of days.”

“Awesome.” Tate takes his empty bottles to the kitchen and throws them in the recycling bin. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

“No problem,” I say, stretching my arms over my head. Tate’s eyes flick to my exposed belly and I tug down my shirt. “Surprised you didn’t have a date tonight.”

“Eh, I’m kind of taking a break from all that,” he says like it’s no big deal at all.

For the record
, it’s totally a big deal.

“Wow, really
?”

“Yep,” he says
. “You and Henry kind of encouraged me to cut the manwhore stuff out a little. I mean, I’m still getting some here and there, but it had gotten a little out of control.”

“How mature of you,” I say, nudging him toward the door.

“I guess you gotta start somewhere, right? It’s like you and Henry.”

“Like me and Henry what?”

“Like how you’ve put all that drama from the past behind you and are friends again.”

I’m not sure about all that, but
I’m proud of Tate in a weird way. Maybe I’m not as invisible in his eyes as I thought. I may not be sex worthy to him but at least he listens to my advice, which is better. I guess.

We step out my front door and onto the balcony area. T
he parking lot below is quiet. “Well, thanks and I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Right, day off tomorrow,
” I say.

Surprisingly he pulls me into a bear hug and I squeak from the wind being knocked out of me.  “Night.”

I watch him tuck the DVD under his arm and disappear down the stairs. Once he hits the parking lot I hear his voice and lean over the railing. Henry. Tate jerks a thumb upward and Henry looks up—our eyes meeting briefly.

I step backwards, pressing myself against th
e wall overwhelmed by feelings glee and guilt. My plan involved making Henry crazy—crazy enough to regret treating me so poorly, but as things shift between us, Operation Payback seems harder than expected.

*

Somehow I let Josh talk me into going to the pool to hang out even though it’s my day off. So yeah, I’m voluntarily at work even though I’m not getting paid.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” I say to him.

“It’s only fair since I got you that job and I can’t get free ice cream anymore.”

Josh climbs out of the driver’s seat and slings a towel over his neck.
I get my bag, filled with a variety of sunscreen, magazines and snacks. Great. Now I want ice cream.

“So this date you had the other night?”

“It wasn’t a date and shhhh.” I jerk my head toward the entrance. The last thing I need is for Tate to think I have a thing for him. Well, more than any other hetero girl. I push the gate open and Henry waves from his perch over the deep end chair. I smile and wave back.

“Five hours of Buffy sounds like a date to me.” I elbow him in the ribs and point to a couple of deck chairs in the sun.
Josh shakes his head.  “Oh, look, Davey’s here.”

Sure enough
, Davey sits over on a lounge chair in the grassy area alone. He gives us a wide smile and I roll my eyes behind my sunglasses. “So this is why you made me come today?”

“Yes, and I don’t have to pay a guest fee.”

I lead the way and drop my stuff onto a chair, leaving one chair empty so Josh can sit next to his crush.  Davey may be the only guy that can compete with Tate in the looks department. Tall and broad. Creamy brown skin, dark eyes and hair.  His chest looks like it’s molded from the same marble Tate’s came from.

“Hey
Zadie, what’s up?” he asks.

“
Nothing much, just hanging out at work on my day off,” I jab, but they are already absorbed in one another.

Josh makes a production of laying his towel out and taking off his shirt. He’s fit too but not like these guys. I’m starting to feel like a third wheel. Geez.

While the boys enter the first stages of flirting I pull out my sunscreen and lotion up my arms and legs. “Here,” I say to Josh handing him the tube. “Lather up.”

He squeezes some int
o his hand and covers his chest. He hands the bottle to Davey and says, “Can you get my back?”

“Oh man,” I mumble, yanking my cover up over my head. I’ve decided to attempt to
manage my life guard tan, wearing a different suit with different tan lines. This one is a two piece, bluish-green with a tie around the neck. It’s something I’m not accustomed to but Tricia and I decide it has the desired effect. Plus, everyone else around here flashes some skin. So can me.

I settle in my seat and narrow my eyes at the pattern on Josh’s shorts. “What is that?”

“Oh
, these are amazing. Dry they look like a normal pattern but look,” he runs to the edge of the pool and jumps in. A second later he jumps out and rushes back over dripping wet. “See?”

“Are those naked ladies?” I ask, incredulous.

“Yes! My mom bought them for me!”

Davey touches the hem and they marvel at the cheesiness of the shorts
. They shift into the bubble that follows them around lately. I’m happy for them, but it’s boring being the third wheel. I open up my magazine, pretending to read, but predictably, I find myself staring at Henry.

Henry flipping his whistle over his finger.

Henry scratching his chest.

Henry adjusting himself in his chair.

Henry glancing at me.

He perches his whistle between his lips and lets it hang there while he watches some kids closely. After a couple of seconds he blows it, waving them over to his chair. He falls into a deep argument with the ten-year-old over the diving board rules. He’s so freaking adorable.

“Just go talk to him,” Josh says, interrupting my Henry fest.