“Yes, Mom. It’s fine. I’m calm. Please, let me.”
Jeremy moved his head right to left trying to get a glimpse of her. When Mrs. Walters finally stepped aside, he took in the view of a mock mental patient. Regan was dressed in a long white sleep shirt that stopped just short of her knees. The words “I Really Don’t Care” were printed on the front in a messy scripted font. Her feet sported white tube socks and pink slippers, and her hair was pulled high atop her head in a haphazard bun.
Jeremy couldn’t contain it. The smile spread across his face, and the words fell out.
“Are they treating you okay?”
She furrowed her brows.
“Well, are they at least giving you pudding after your electroshock therapy sessions?”
The side of her mouth quirked up. She dipped her face and studied her outfit. And then she burst out laughing.
Mrs. Walters nodded to herself. All’s fine, and she left them alone, though she didn’t go too far. She disappeared to the next room over, just to be on the safe side.
“Come in,” Regan said.
Jeremy thought he’d never step foot in Regan Walters’ house. He figured such an event would be accompanied by loud fireworks, parades, and TV news anchors fighting for exclusive rights to the story. He braced himself for the emotional high, but when he stepped over the threshold, nothing exploded inside of him. It was just an ordinary home. Yes, it did house an extraordinary girl, but her freak-out this morning tempered his melodramatic perception of her. Actually, her freak-out downright scared the shit out of him.
Regan led him to the living room where Caroline sat watching TV. She looked up and smiled.
“Hi,” she said brightly.
“Hi,” Jeremy replied.
“This is my younger sister, Caroline,” Regan said. “Caroline, this is my friend, Jeremy.”
“The one you attacked this morning?” Caroline asked.
Regan sighed pleasantly. “The same.”
Caroline addressed Jeremy. “Do you have bruises? Or claw marks? Are you going to sue us? Will we have to leave our house? Is Regan going to prison?”
This girl watches waaay too much TV, he thought.
“I’m not going to prison,” Regan said patiently, like she was repeating the statement for the hundredth time.
“Are you going to sue us?” Caroline asked again. “We’re not rich,” she clarified.
Jeremy shook his head, smiling.
“Why do you have a lip ring? Do you get food caught in it when you eat?”
“Caroline,” Regan chided.
Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t really know,” he admitted. “I guess I liked the idea at the time.”
Caroline nodded.
“Can we have some privacy?” Regan asked, turning off the TV.
“Gaaaaahhh!” Caroline cried, grabbing the remote. She powered on the television once more.
“Caroline . . .”
“I just need to pause it,” she said.
“You’ve seen High School Musical a hundred times,” Regan pointed out.
“And?”
“And nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Regan replied.
Caroline screwed up her face, debating her next move.
“Well? Are you leaving?” Regan asked.
“Did Mom say you could have privacy?”
“Yes.”
Caroline frowned. “I figured she would. But why can’t I listen?”
“Because it doesn’t concern you. Remember those boundaries we talked about?”
Caroline thought a moment as she twirled her hair.
“Yes,” she said at last. Sulky reluctance.
Regan glanced at Jeremy and rolled her eyes. “I’ll come tell you all about it when we’re done,” she said to her sister, and Caroline lit up.
“Okay!” She tossed a quick “Nice to meet you” in Jeremy’s direction before darting to the kitchen.
They were alone again, but this time the air didn’t buzz with electric anger.
“I’m sorry,” Regan said. “And I mean it.”
Jeremy studied her worn and tired face. The freshness was gone. She looked like the half-eaten stale cracker left behind on an abandoned dinner plate. Obviously she’d been crying all day. Her red-rimmed eyes were the blatant giveaway.
“I believe you,” he replied.
Regan sank into the couch. Jeremy thought it safer to sit opposite her in the club chair.
“All my friends turned against me,” she said, staring at her lap.
“Why?”
“Because I broke up with Brandon.” She paused for a moment. “One of the best moments of my life, too—breaking up with him. I couldn’t wait to tell Casey . . .” Her voice trailed off.
Jeremy waited, trying to subdue the elation building like a bonfire inside his heart. She broke up with Brandon! He searched for a big, wet blanket to snuff out the flames, but even her bizarre attack on him this morning couldn’t tame the fire. It roared inside his chest.
“I couldn’t wait to tell her. It was so badass. You know how you always fantasize about saying exactly what you want to someone but it rarely comes out that way?”
Jeremy screwed up his face. “Maybe.”
“Like, you have it all planned out, but then when the moment arrives, you’re never as good with your words as you imagine you’d be? Never as sharp?”
He nodded.
“Well, I was good with my words. And I was sharp. It poured out of me like I’d memorized a speech or something. It was awesome. Bad. Ass.”
He smiled.
“I told him I’d flattened him if he ever came near me again,” she said, giggling.
“And I believe it,” Jeremy replied, rubbing his chest.
Regan laughed. “I bet you do! Again, sorry.”
“No worries,” Jeremy said.
“So, I get to school, right? And I practically run to Casey to tell her all about it. And everyone, including her, has shut me out,” she continued. “Because I suppose Brandon told them to. And everyone does what he says because he’s Brandon.”
Jeremy grunted.
“But Casey?” Her voice quivered, and she swallowed. “She’s my best friend, you know?”
“I know.”
“I mean, I looked right at her face, and I swear to God she looked through me. Through me!”
Silence.
“Regan?”
“Hmm?”