“I’ll work on it,” Jeremy said, watching her carefully.
The revelation of her note back in middle school coupled with her recent breakup was almost too much for him. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling so much, having trained most of the emotions out of his heart with target practice. The fortuitous entangling of his life with Regan’s changed the way his mind worked, the way his heart operated. He was feeling, and feeling too much. He knew she was dangerous the moment he discovered she’d read his journal. She had all the power to destroy his plan. But now he was discovering a new danger to her—the power she wielded over him to feel. To desire love and acceptance and happiness.
“You’re right,” he heard her say. “I should have confronted you about it. I should have made you be my friend.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“That’s right,” she said, encouraged. “I should’ve just made you.” She laughed softly.
“You wouldn’t have had to,” he admitted. “Like I said, I would have been your friend.”
“But not because I felt sorry for you, right? Or because you thought you owed me?”
“For sticking up for me? I’ll always owe you for that.”
She blushed. Hard. A racking wave that started at her scalp and moved like rolling thunder down her body to her toenails.
“You don’t owe me for anything. I turned into an asshole.”
Jeremy shook his head. “You hung out with them. You made some questionable choices. But I never thought you turned mean.”
Regan scratched her cheek. “You think Casey did?”
“Do you?”
She nodded reluctantly.
“So why do you care that she doesn’t want to talk to you right now? Why hang out with a mean person?”
“She’s my best friend, Jeremy! Those feelings don’t just disappear like that.” She snapped her finger. “Plus, I can’t stop remembering Casey the way she used to be.”
“When she was a loser?”
“Ugh. I really hate that word,” Regan replied.
“But she was. And so was I. So were you,” he pointed out.
“Being an outcast is not the same thing as being a loser,” Regan argued. “Losers don’t care about anything—don’t try to better their lives. Don’t call us that. We weren’t losers. We were different.”
“All right. I see your point,” Jeremy said.
Silence.
Regan fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.
“I’m sorry your friends did that to you this morning,” Jeremy whispered. “It was cruel.”
“I think it mostly took the wind out of my sails because I just wanted to brag about my awesome breakup moment, and I never got the chance,” Regan replied, chuckling.
It was a front. He knew. He knew deep down her heart was shredded, and he hoped his kind words would act as the thread to piece it together again.
“Jeremy?”
“Hmm?”
“I . . . I realized something today after I got home from school.”
He waited.
“I—” She lowered her voice. “—I threatened to kill you. I would never do that. You have to know I would never do that.”
“I know.”
“So it made me realize that I finally get it.”
“Get what?”
“Your journal,” Regan whispered. “Your tattoo. I get it. I get you.”
You don’t get me at all, he thought sadly.
“No more back and forth,” Regan said. “I believe you. All the way.”
And then Jeremy’s heart ripped into a million pieces. His friend—his girl, in another, better world—entrusted to him her confidence in his goodness. A goodness he didn’t possess. And he would break her heart all over again when she finally discovered it.
He turned his face.
“I . . . I got suspended,” Regan said. “I’ve never been suspended in my life. That mess is on my permanent record.”
“You shouldn’t have gotten suspended,” Jeremy mumbled.
“Oh, yes I should have. It was fair.” Regan groaned. “But I wish I weren’t suspended from my next two matches.”
“It didn’t even hurt,” Jeremy said.
“Huh?”
“Your punches. They didn’t even hurt. If they didn’t hurt, they shouldn’t count.”
Regan laughed. “Well, where were you when my sentence was being handed down? Could have kept me from getting grounded, too!”
Jeremy chuckled. “You’ve had the worst day ever.”
“Tell me about it.”
Just then, Caroline popped into the living room.
“I know how to fix that,” she offered.
Jeremy and Regan turned in her direction.
“How?” Jeremy asked.
“Let’s show Jeremy our dance,” Caroline suggested.
Regan’s eyes went wide with embarrassment. “Um, no.”
“What dance?” Jeremy asked.
“The answer to that is no,” Regan replied. He laughed.
“I wanna see your dance,” he insisted.
Caroline flashed him a toothy grin then addressed her sister. “Please, Regan! It’ll make you feel better!”
“It will not make me feel better. It’ll make me feel mortified,” she explained.
“Oh, Regan. You love to dance with me. Come on!” Caroline yanked on her sister’s hand until Regan stood up grudgingly.
“Oh my God,” she muttered, watching Caroline turn on the TV.
“Jeremy, have you seen High School Musical?” Caroline asked.
He shook his head. What the hell was High School Musical?
Caroline’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”
“Really,” he replied. “Am I missing out?”
Caroline considered his question. “I don’t know anyone who hasn’t seen it. It’s the best movie ever. Well, movies. There are three of them.”
“Three, huh?” he asked.
“Yes. And Regan and I have almost learned all the dances.”
“Please stop talking, Caroline,” Regan said. She turned to Jeremy. “It’s just a silly thing we do. These movies are, like, ancient, but Caroline loves them.”
“You love them, too!” Caroline cried.
“Yes. When I was seven,” Regan countered.
“You love them still!” Caroline insisted.
Regan sighed. “Yes, Caroline. I love them. Now can I go crawl off somewhere and die?”
Jeremy didn’t understand what the big deal was, but he wasn’t letting Regan go anywhere. Not until she danced for him.
“You gonna show me?” he asked the girls.
“Oh, yes yes!” Caroline squealed.