The Rules of Regret (18 page)

“
Come on,
”
I said, picking up my speed.
“
They
’
re probably boarding already.
”

And
they were. In fact, we were the last two on the plane, and the eye rolls and
irritated smirks from the passengers already situated comfortably in their
seats as we pushed down the aisle indicated we might even be holding things up.
Like we had that much power, to keep an aircraft grounded. For a moment, I
wished they had taken off without us.

“
Please take the nearest open seat,
”
an attendant instructed as she
pulled a bag from Torin
’
s
hand and slid it into the overhead compartment. She clicked the hatch back into
place loudly.

“
We really need to sit together,
”
Torin explained, motioning toward
me.

“
I don
’
t think that
’
s necessary.
”
I shook my head and smiled at the
stewardess politely.
“
It
’
s fine. Any open seat will do.
”

“
No, it won
’
t.
”
His tone lowered and both the flight
attendant and I widened our eyes.
“
We
really need to sit next to each other.
”

“
I can move.
”
A woman, probably in her early
seventies, rose from her middle seat and scooted one over. She lifted her purse
from the window seat and tucked it under the chair in front of her, sliding it
forward with the toe of her brown loafers.
“
There you go, kiddos.
”

“
Thank you,
”
Torin said and smiled sweetly as he
slid in past her, his arms holding onto the headrests in front of him. I
dropped down into her vacated seat and it was warm, which kind of bothered me.
Like when the toilet seat was warm in a public restroom. I ignored it, and
focused on the other thing that was making me equally as squeamishly
uncomfortable: the persistently endearing blond seated immediately to my left.

“
Why did you insist that we sit
together?
”
I asked as the flight attendant began her instructions over the intercom. She
was waving some breathing device around that should only be used in the
instance that we lost pressure in the cabin, but I thought how I should
probably keep one of those on hand since I was constantly lightheaded and found
it hard to breathe on my own. I wondered if it was something I could purchase
online or from those SkyMall magazines. I really needed the help of that
breathing apparatus.
“
We
don
’
t
have to sit together. Honestly. I
’
m
fine sitting anywhere.
”

“
I
’
m not.
”
When Torin clicked his seatbelt
across his lap, I noticed a slight shake in his hands. Then I looked up at his
face, and there was a gleam of sweat that coated it, like he
’
d just completed a pretty intense
workout.

“
Are you
scared
, Torin?
”

The
plane jolted as it pulled back from the gate, rolling on its wheels like a car
in reverse. One of the other flight attendants continued rattling instructions,
but he did it as a song
—
almost
a rap
—
so
that at least provided a little in-flight entertainment.

“
I
’
m not scared.
”
The vulnerable quiver in Torin
’
s voice did something weird to my
nervous system, something that I could feel all the way in my toes. I wriggled
them to get rid of it, but it didn
’
t
work. It almost felt like they
’
re
asleep, but much more enjoyable, if tingling in that way could be enjoyable.

“
Yes, you
are
scared.
”

“
Remember?
”
That shake was still there.
“
I
’
m not afraid of anything.
”
He thumbed through the seat pocket
in front of him and pulled out the white barf bag, fingering its opening.

I
yanked it from his hands and shoved it back into its place between the tattered
magazines.
“
You
’
re not going to need that.
”

“
How do you know?
”
He tugged it out again.

“
Because you
’
re not going to throw up, Torin,
”
I assured with a grin. The plane
stopped abruptly and someone in a commanding tower must have given us the
go-ahead, because we started rolling forward, the rumble of the runway vibrating
the tires below.
“
I
’
m here. I
’
ll distract you.
”

“
Darby, what could you possibly do
that would be able to distract me from the fact that we
’
re about to be 30,000 feet above
ground in a hunk of oversized metal?
”

I
bit down on my cheek.
“
I
don
’
t
know. I
’
ll
think of something.
”

But
I couldn
’
t
think of anything, and poor Torin
’
s
anxiety spiked to full panic mode as the wheels retracted into the
undercarriage and the tip of the plane angled skyward. All pigment drained from
his face, and I thought he might actually chomp through his bottom lip, he was
biting it so hard. I felt like I should tell him to stop just for the sake of
saving his mouth, but the dimple that creased his cheek when he did it
completely drew my focus and I worried it might go away if he stopped the
nervous lip-chewing. Selfishly, I kept my own mouth shut.

The
jet jerked suddenly and that weightless feeling pulled at my gut as the
aircraft tipped to the left, the wings tilting, slicing through the sky.

“
Darby,
”
Torin stammered. His knees bounced
up and down erratically. His knuckles were so white.
“
Darby, you need to distract me.
”

I
racked my brain, trying to come up with a suitable topic for discussion. But I
couldn
’
t
think of anything that might distract Torin from the fact that we were floating
in the air in an oversized bus. He was right
—
when I actually thought about it,
this was all pretty terrifying.

“
Darby,
”
he said again, his voice faltering.
“
Distraction
…
like
now
.
”

So
I did the only thing I could think to do in the moment; I did the one thing
that had been a successful distractor for me these past three weeks. I closed
my eyes and pretended to ignore the reality of my surroundings.

But
that didn
’
t
last long.

Torin
grabbed both sides of my face and shoved his lips onto mine. A sound rumbled
from deep in his chest, not unlike the earlier rumbling of the wheels on the
runway. My own breath hitched and I tried to draw back, but he captured my face
in his palms and warmth slid through my veins, radiating out into every square
inch of my body. I groaned against his mouth, forgetting about the
perfume-drenched grandma sitting right next to me, forgetting about the entire
plane filled with passengers altogether. I forgot it all
—
everything but that
night in the sleeping bag
—
as
Torin
’
s
mouth collided with mine, tugging at my lips in a way that swamped my gut with
a dizzying heat.

My
lips fell open as a sigh slipped from me and Torin
’
s tongue delved in, his fingers
twisting in the loose curls of my hair. Another groan worked its way up my
throat, but I held it back, even though it took a serious amount of effort to
keep it from escaping in an embarrassingly breathy growl. Trailing the roof of
my mouth, Torin pulled his tongue back, but his lips still glided over mine,
making me nothing but a ball of overactive sensation. That tingling was back in
my toes and this time, in my fingers, too. It worked its way up my spine and
settled at the base of my neck.

Torin
’
s mouth moved steadily with mine and
it felt so good that I want to cry or scream or do something to release the
pent up tension that had been filling every part of me since the overnighter.
But I didn
’
t
do any of those things. Instead, I thought of how everything about this was so
horribly wrong, even though it felt all kinds of incredible. That despite the
incredible feeling, it actually made me feel equally sick. I wondered if this
was how Lance felt when he had been with other girls. Something about it made
me think that answer was a no.

Just
as Torin twisted in his seat to lean into me, his chest hovering over the
armrest separating us, I felt everything in me start to rise, creeping through
me and spinning my head and my insides in an upward whirlpool. Unfortunately,
my lunch traveled that same path, and in one forceful rush, it pressed at the
back of my mouth. I yanked my lips from Torin
’
s, ripped open the small, white bag I
’
d been holding in my lap, and dry
heaved into it, sickened by my betrayal, and totally regretting what I
’
d just done.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 
“
So,
kissing me makes you sick.
”

I
slid further into my seat and pulled the magazine up above my head like a
protective shield of armor.
“
You
have to go back to your own row. He
’
s
gonna come back from the bathroom soon.
”

“
I think
you
have to go back to
your
row.
”
Torin pushed a finger into my shoulder and grinned. I walled him off with the
pages of the gossip mag in my hands.

“
I am in mine.
”

“
You seriously up and moved on me?
”
He grasped the paper from my grip
and threw it to the floor. Those innocent green eyes impaled me.
“
You
’
re not going to sit with me?
”

“
You didn
’
t get that hint five hours ago?
”
I looked back toward the restrooms
and the
‘
occupied
’
sign was still lit. How long could
it take a guy to go to the bathroom? I really needed my seat partner to come
back and reclaim his spot next to me at the back of the plane. And I needed to
get to Washington D.C. I needed Lance to reclaim me, too.

I
shifted my gaze toward the window and stared blankly into the clouds that
rested just below the wings. They were fluffy and white and looked like you
could stand on them if you tried. It was amazing how something that appeared so
real and solid could be so utterly deceiving.

“
Are you embarrassed that you nearly
threw up in front of me?
”
Torin caught my chin between his fingers and pulled my face his direction. It
was hard not to look at someone when they were basically controlling the
movement of your head, like a puppeteer and his Pinocchio.
“
Because I
’
ve seen you throw up before.
Remember, in the tree?
”

I
recoiled and looked back out the smudged glass window again.
“
I
’
m not embarrassed about the gagging,
Torin.
”

“
Then what is it?
”

One
of the stewardesses halted at the end of our row. Her hair was wound so tight
all her features pulled upward and it made her look like she was made of plastic,
like Flight Attendant Barbie.
“
Peanuts?
Pretzels?
”

I
took both packages from her hands and tore them open, glad to have something to
fill my mouth so I didn
’
t
have to use it to answer Torin
’
s
questions.

“
Why did you leave?
”
He fumbled to open his bag of
peanuts, and when he finally did, it split from end to end and the contents
soared into the sky, ricocheting against the seat in front of him and landing
in a lady
’
s
Bloody Mary across the aisle. She shot him an angry glare, but Torin just
shrugged sheepishly and waved. He looked to me again.
“
Just so you know, it worked.
”

“
What worked?
”
I mumbled, still loading my mouth
with salty carbs.

“
Your distraction.
”
He took a palmful of peanuts and
slammed them into his open mouth.
“
It
worked during takeoff, and it
’
s
been working throughout the entire flight. I
’
m completely distracted. Good work,
Darby. I
’
ve
got this flying thing down. Might as well call me Ace.
”

“
We shouldn
’
t have done that, Torin. I mean,
seriously, I should swap this stupid Stanford logo out for a scarlet A.
”
I waved my hand across the fabric
appliqu
é
on my sweatshirt, a frustrated groan following my words.

His
eyes went wide like a cartoon character
’
s.
“
Is that what this is about? Are you
worried that you
’
ve
cheated or something?
”

“
That
’
s
exactly
what I did.
”
I gulped down the last bits of my snack and used the tip of my fingernail to
dislodge a piece wedged between my front teeth.
“
That was wrong on so many levels. I
’
m so sorry I did that to you.
”

“
Oh, but it was oh-so-right on so many
levels, too.
”
The way Torin
’
s
voice crooned out of him made my heart palpitate faintly, like a pitter-patter,
which I always thought was just as weird of a word as it was a feeling. Like
twitterpated. I had totally become twitterpated with Torin. If I had been as
into quotes as he was, that would be the one I would recite. Here he was
referencing poets of old, and I was thinking about a stupid skunk from a Disney
movie.

“
Seriously Darby. You have some
incredible distraction tactics.
”

“
I
kissed
you, Torin!
”
I saw the man in the seat in front of me turn his head my direction, but he
continued reading his book out of the corner of his eye like he wasn
’
t actually eavesdropping at all.

“
Yeah, you
’
re right, you did. But more like
kissed me back. And I liked it.
”

“
So did I, but that
’
s not the point
—”

“
You did?
”
Torin practically gasped.
“
So the gagging thing
…
that didn
’
t have to do with the kiss?
”

“
Well, it did
—”

“
So I
do
make you sick.
”

“
No,
”
I continued, but had a feeling he
wasn
’
t
going to let me finish my thought.
“
I
make
myself
sick.
”

Torin
shook his head, his blond, shaggy hair tossing back and forth.
“
It
’
s okay, Darby. It didn
’
t mean anything.
”

My
throat went dry.
“
It
didn
’
t?
”

“
No. It would only be cheating if
there was something behind it. In our case, it was purely for purposes of
distraction.
”
He fluttered his hand between us nonchalantly.
“
It was just a kiss, Darby.
”

I
heard the click of the lavatory door behind us and shot out the tense breath I
’
d been trapping in my chest. My seat
partner had finally finished his business. I don
’
t think I
’
d ever been so happy to be sitting
next to an overweight, middle-aged man with sewer breath in my entire life.
Welcome back, buddy. What took so long?

“
But it sorta still feels like I
cheated, and I hate that. I hate what that makes me.
”

“
A kiss is just a kiss, Darby,
”
Torin sing-songed, his voice much
better than I
’
d
imagined it would be. It had a soothing tenor to it, one that I could get used
to hearing.

The
man waddled his way down the aisle and stood over Torin, his Santa Claus-like
belly pressing into Torin
’
s
elbow. They locked eyes and Torin stood to give up his seat. Before he turned
to head back to his original row, he gripped onto the seat back in front of me
and leaned forward as he said,
“
Don
’
t give it another thought, okay? I
’
m serious.
”

I
bit my lip and nodded, but knew that even the act of bobbing my head up and
down was a total lie. Like I wasn
’
t
going to give it another thought. It was
all
I
’
d been able to think about. And
apparently, it was all Torin had been thinking about, too. Fan-freakin-tastic.

As
he walked back to his seat, he shot a look over his shoulder and mouthed,
“
Fuhgeddaboudit,
”
like he was some old cinema Mafia
boss. This guy and his impersonations.

I
tried to forget, I really did. But I couldn
’
t.
 

For
the duration of the flight I busied myself by coating my lips in every single
tube of gloss I had packed in my purse, like somehow five shades of lipstick
smeared across my mouth could cover up the fact that they
’
d completely betrayed me. Like Lance
wouldn
’
t
find out. Like it wasn
’
t
written plainly all over my face.

I
buried my pile of lipstick tubes into the depths of my bag and zipped it up
angrily.

“
Ladies and gentlemen,
”
a robotic female voice recited through the overhead speakers,
“
as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and
tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is
securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in
front of you or in the overhead bins. Please turn off all electronic devices
until we are safely parked at the gate. Thank you.
”

I shoved my purse further under the seat with my foot and pulled
the belt strap tight across my lap until it hurt. I deserved to feel a little
pain. Someone should probably even slap me for what I
’
d done. It totally would have been appropriate.

“
And to the passenger in row 29, seat
B, we ask that you remember this one thing
.
”
I peered down the aisle as
Stewardess Barbie handed over the microphone to a male flight attendant and
said,
“
Play
it again, Sam.
”

There
was a short pause as passengers glanced about the cabin, and when all eyes fell
upon me, I realized just what was going on, and just whom 29B was.

“
You
must remember this
…
”
the attendant crooned, his voice
rich and delicate. He obviously had several years of voice lessons under his
belt.
“
A kiss is just a kiss...
”

My
jaw dropped to the floor, so much so that I almost thought they were going to
come around and ask that I stow it under the seat in front of me. I whipped my
head and shook the stunned expression from my blanched face.
What on earth?

“
A
sigh is just a sigh
…
”

I
wanted to leap out of my seat and track Torin down to ask him how I was
supposed to forget something he kept bringing up
—
this time in the form of performing
arts flight attendants
—
but
he had conveniently waited until I was prohibited from leaving my chair before
doing something as mortifying as this. Every eye in the last three rows glued
to me, like I sat there naked or in my underwear.

Flight
attendants serenade their passengers every day, right? Didn
’
t they?

“
The
fundamental things apply
...
”
Several more people joined in,
channeling their best Sam Doolly from
Casablanca
.
One guy a couple rows up even busted out an air piano and pretended to caress
the imaginary black and white keys as he swayed melodically to the music.
“
As
time goes by
.
”

Oh.
My. Word. This wasn
’
t
happening.