Regrets

“Do you have any regrets?”

I glanced away from the TV and down at Abigail, who was currently wrapped around my body. She was staring at me intently, tracing her finger along my chest and making obscure shapes. Memories came rushing to the forefront of my thoughts, but I shook them away.

“Nope. None I can think of.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes before pulling herself on top of me, and spoke with a flirtatious tone, “Not one?”

I stared at her and the memories that had come before returned and I let them play.

It was a thousand miles away, years ago: I was sitting in an economics class my sophomore year of college. Class had started and the teacher was introducing himself and the course. I was doodling when he began to take roll. Names were called, most responded with “here”, but there was one name which he called out two times instead of one.

“Megan Perry? … Megan Perry?” No one had responded, and the eerily long pause made me look away from my drawing and scan the room with everyone else. A moment later a girl burst through the door, looking slightly embarrassed and little frazzled. She was wearing light blue jeans, a dark blue top that was decorated with various flowers, and checkered vans. Her hair, a strawberry blonde, was tied in a loose ponytail. She made her way quickly to an empty desk near the front and sat down then smiled at the professor who looked back at his clip board and said “Megan Perry?” she gave a little nod, “Yes”. As the opening lecture continued, I found myself continually glancing at her and there were a few times I could’ve sworn she would glance back at me too.

A few weeks later I found myself rushing back to the red bench that rested beneath a large oak tree, which seemed to be collapsing underneath its own weight. As I got closer to the bench, I could see Megan sitting there, her hair resting over her right shoulder. I began to slow my pace and I took a few deep breaths and put on my best smile before sliding into the spot next to her while simultaneously throwing my backpack underneath my legs. As I did so, she looked up from her journal and smiled at me. We both took our headphones out.

“Where were you today?” she said closing the book and sliding it into her bag.

“Didn’t want to get up this morning, long night.” I leaned back and rested my elbows on the back of the bench and put my head back and closed my eyes.

“Yeah? Another ‘appointment’? Honestly, I don’t know how you have the energy.”

I smiled and looked at her, “No, just hanging out with some friends. Nothing too crazy.”

She repositioned herself and laid down on the bench, resting her head on my lap and letting her legs dangle. She was wearing an off-white t-shirt, black leggings, and sandals. I leaned my head against my hand, and we began to talk about this and that. She told me about her night, what I had missed in economics, and a story she read in which a family was murdered by a gang of three escaped convicts. While she spoke, I smiled, nodded, and chuckled, but I mostly stared at her eyes though her smile would often break this trance. At one point we stopped talking and just sat there, enjoying each other’s company; listening to the birds and the breeze. After a little she sat up and twisted herself so her legs were hanging off the front of the bench again.

“Damn.” She said “I gotta run to my next class.”

“Don’t wanna skip again? I’m not going to any of mine today.”

She smiled “I would…but I have a test.” She scrunched her nose at this and laughed when I mimicked it.

“Alright, guess you should go. But maybe we can do something later tonight?”

I saw her smile, but I could sense that she was trying to suppress a larger one. “Yeah, that sounds, great.” She giggled.

I smiled and grabbed her bag and we both stood. As I handed it to her our eyes met. I swallowed as covertly as I could and could feel my heart beginning to beat faster. She smiled at me and grabbed her bag but did not pull it away from me. Instead, she stepped closer. I gave her a small smile, hoping it looked more confident than it felt. The birds and breeze were no longer audible and all I could hear was blood churning in my ears. “Do it,” a small voice echoed inside my head. Suddenly the moment was gone, we both let out nervous laughter, and she put her bag on her shoulder.

“I’ll text you when I’m done, and we can discuss details.” She pulled herself to me and wrapped her arms around me.

I gave her a quick hug and when I let go, she turned around with a big smile, waved, and I watched her walk away. My heart was still pounding.

As the hour approached when we were supposed I took off my third shirt and replaced it with another, a halter grey t-shirt with metallic blue sleeves. I inspected the rest of my outfit; worn blue jeans with a slight tear in the knee and faded maroon skate shoes. I touched up my hair, adding enough gel to hold it in place, but not enough to be noticed. I nervously applied the cologne when I heard my phone buzz in the other room. My stomach wrapped around itself, and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, grabbing the bathroom counter and pushing off. I mumbled positive affirmations to myself as I left my dorm and descended the stairs to the lobby and out to the parking lot, where she was.

She was wearing a white t-shirt, a medium length purple skirt and black canvas shoes with white laces. Her hair looked as if it had been recently curled and it draped down her back. She smiled when she saw me and began walking up to me with her arms held behind her back.

“So, where are you taking me tonight?” she asked, turning around and walking next to me.

It had just occurred to me that in my preparation I had neglected this part.

“Well,” she smiled at my hesitation, “How about we go downtown, to that diner you told me about?”

“Aww, didn’t think about where you were going to take me tonight?” she laughed and grabbed my hand, gently leading me to my car, “That sounds perfect.”

Downtown was a popular area for most students that were not old enough to drink yet, because the bars were outnumbered by restaurants, small shops, and it was close to campus. However, on this particular day I took an alternate route that made the trip twice as long. I am sure Megan noticed, being native to the area, but she purposefully ignored it. She just sang along to the music and watched the world outside of my passenger side window. I could see her turn to me every now and then, resting her head on her hand, watching me for an extended period. When she did this I would smile involuntarily and my heart would beat faster, then I would glance at her for a moment to acknowledge her. She’d hold my gaze for moment before smiling and looking out the window again.

When we got to the diner, the sun was setting and we both realized that neither of us were very hungry, for me it was anxiety that knotted my stomach and I can only assume it was the same for her. We ordered fries, and I got a chocolate milkshake while she got a coffee, which she tried to drink black, but after several bitter sips she reluctantly added sugar and cream. The sun set quickly as we sat there talking about our classes, jobs, family, and interests, both of us leaning in ever so closer as the conversation continued. It seemed we had just made our orders and began talking when a polite, but tired waitress informed us that the diner would be closing soon. We both stood, and I left a ten-dollar bill next to the basket of barely touched fries.

As we made our way onto the street, I looked around the square and saw that many shops were closing and a sudden panic gripped me. As I looked around desperately for something to do, Megan grabbed my arm.

“I know a place that should still be open.” She smiled and began leading me. I could only smile back and stared at her for a little before we reached what used to be a bank. Now it was a café of sorts that served smoothies enhanced with CDB oil. It was nearly empty, save for a few people and couples that occupied the bar and tables. We placed our orders and when they arrived Megan led me to her favorite area: the vault. It was a relatively small thing for a relatively small bank, and had been repurposed into a small lounge area. Couches lined the walls with small tables, no taller than stools, spread apart like land mines. The room was dark except for light strips on the ceiling, which would change color every few minutes. We sat in a corner of the lounge area and sat in silence for a moment, drinking our smoothies and me, commenting on mine. Then silence for a few moments more.

“Do you believe in true love? Like a soul-mate?” she asked me, swirling the straw around her cup.

My palms got a little sweaty and I cleared my throat before answering, “I’m not sure. I know I used to, but now…” I leaned back.

She nodded at my response and thought for a moment, “I know, I know. All that stuff with your ex.” She looked at me and when I met her eyes she looked back at her drink, “But, I think she really missed out, because you’re…a pretty good guy.”

I chuckled, “Maybe. Or maybe it takes someone…like you to bring my goodness out.” I felt immediately pinched my leg, “Dammit. That was too corny.” I thought.

However, I could see a small smile on her face and she looked up again, “Well then I’m honored to be the person that brings that out of you.”

We both smiled at one another, which was followed by nervous laughter and the drinking of our smoothies.

We eventually left the bank turned smoothie bar and started walking back to my car, and the conversation had turned to horror movies, both good and bad ones. On the drive back we talked about how we’d handle killer dolls, ghosts, demons, and the various types of killers that populated movies and books. When we were parked outside of my dorm, we continued the conversation on the implausibility of killers leaving witnesses alive when they had the moment to eliminate them, or when the victim had the killer at their mercy and chose to spare them. Then we sat in silence, with everything in me telling me to make a move. My palms were sweaty and my tongue felt like a stone. My lips felt like sandpaper. As I took a deep breath her phone buzzed; mom telling her to come home. I felt both relieved and annoyed.

“Well, I guess that’s the end of our night then.” She said looking from her phone to me.

“Damn. We’ll have to do it again then.” I smiled at her and she did back at me.

“Let me walk you to your car at least.”

She laughed, “It’s like right next to us.”

“It’s like,” I counted with my finger, which made her giggle, “four cars away. It’s dangerous out here, one of those killer dolls might get you.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin on her face, “I guess you’re right, please escort me to my vehicle.”

I got out and walked around my car, trying to psych myself up, and opened her door then taking her hand and leading her out. We walked the short distance to her car, nether of us saying anything; me with my hands stuffed in my pockets and her picking at her nails. When we got to her driver’s side door. She turned to me.

“Thank you very much for taking me out good sir.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed herself against me.

“Anytime. I look forward to our next outing.” I wrapped my arms around her back and held her there. I could feel her heart pounding against her chest, and I’m sure she could feel mine. She pulled back slightly so that we were looking at each other. I could feel my palms getting sweaty again. I tried to wet my lips, but felt nothing. “Do something man.” A little voice echoed in my head. “Come on. She wants you to do it.” It said again. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as I gazed into her eyes. She had a small smile on her face as we looked at each other. Every instinct in my body seemed to scream the same thing, but my courage had faltered and the moment passed. She stood on her tip toes and got close to my face. Her voice was almost a whisper.

“Maybe next time I can stay over and we can watch that movie with the worms that you told me about.” She kissed my cheek and let go.

“Yes. Definitely we can watch the worm movie.” I let out a short nervous laugh.

She smiled and nodded before getting in her car.

“Text me when you get home, yeah?” I said holding her door.

“Of course.” She smiled at me again. “Goodnight, I’ll see you Monday, and we can plan our next date.”

I smiled and closed the door, before watching her drive off. Unfortunately, I never got the text that she made it home. She wasn’t in class on Monday either. Through a mutual friend I discovered that she had not made it home, instead a drunk driver had struck her car. I was told she was killed instantly.

The forced the memories away again and touched the spot where Megan had kissed me. I looked at Abigail and shook my head. “Nope…none I can think of. None worth mentioning anyway.” Abigail smiled and kissed my forehead.

“I like you.”

“I know.” I said, forcing a small smile.