No Regrets (No Regrets #1) Page 2

  Oliver was the guy that everyone liked. He was kind and fair to everyone, always smiling and drawing people in. He had the ability to unite people and get them to work as a team, a quality he got from his father. He had the looks, he had the heart, and honestly, I don’t think there was a girl in school that could admit to not having a crush on him at one point in their lives.

  “Can you please come and say thank you, Abbygail?”

  “Yeah, I’m coming.”

  Lost in my own thoughts, I walked over to the other side of the pool and saw the adults waiting for me by the carport.

  “Are you okay?” Evelynn asked.

  I smiled at her reassuringly. “I’m fine. Just a little cold that’s all. Thanks for dinner, the ribs were great.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

  Both took me in for a hug and I spotted Oliver watching us in the shadows. I glared at him and he smirked.

  “Goodnight, Uncle Henry.”

  He looked at me with a knowing smile. “You do know he’s only teasing you, right?”

  “Of course I do. And I have every intention of getting him back,” I replied confidently.

  I heard Oliver’s chuckle and watched him hop on his skateboard as he crossed the street.

  “I’m pretty sure you will. Goodnight, Abbygail, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “’Night, Monkey Butt. I hate you.” I shouted.

  I couldn’t resist. Besides, it was the only way I could make sure he thought that whatever had happened under the willow tree hadn’t affected me.

  He flipped me off as soon as he reached his driveway, but then he turned and smiled. “Hate you back, Freckle Face. Don’t forget I’m picking you up tomorrow morning, so you better be ready on time.”

  “I’m always on time.”

  “No, Abby. You’re not.”

  You’re right, I’m not! And I probably won’t be tomorrow either.

  ***

  Oliver and I had a ritual. Every night if either of us couldn’t sleep over, we’d step out in front of the window and wave goodnight. We started the whole thing when we were eight years old and just continued doing it over the years without thinking twice about it.

  So that night I stepped out in front of my window, but instead of turning the light on, I stood in the dark. I waited to see if he’d show up, and he did. I simply observed him, thinking about his lips and how they still tasted like the root beer slushy he bought us for dessert.

  He waited for me, and I knew that for the first time in my life, I was purposefully disappointing my best friend. The thing was that I was afraid of everything I was feeling for him. He had absolutely no idea what he did the second he put his lips to mine. What I felt for him, it was real, and the problem was that I couldn’t tell him because I couldn’t risk losing him.

  Love caused pain.

  I saw it when my mother suffered through her heartbreak when my dad left us. I refused to have my heart broken like hers, and I especially refused to lose my best friend because of it. Nothing was worth jeopardizing our friendship. Not even love.

  Especially not love.

  Thousand Dollar Bet

  Oliver

  “Okay, kid.” I turned to see my father leaning on the bathroom doorframe, “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Nothing,” I mumbled. I had to go pick Abby up for school in less than twenty minutes, and there I was fixated on my own reflection, wondering how I was going to face my best friend now that I had let my feelings for her win over my sense of reason.

  “Then why have you been staring at yourself with your toothbrush in your mouth for the past five minutes?”

  My dad and I were always close. He was an extremely open-minded person and never passed judgement on anyone or anything. If I had an issue about anything, I knew that I could approach him without fear. The problem was that this wasn’t about something stupid I did, a bad grade or asking his opinion about a football play. This was about Abby, and my emergent feelings for her.

  She and I were an entirely different story.

  “Oliver.”

  I spat in the sink and rinsed my toothbrush. “If I tell you about this, you have to promise me you won’t make a big deal out of it. And please don’t tell Mom. The last thing I need is for her to get mixed up in this.”

  He gave me a curt nod. The likelihood of his not telling her was slim to none, but I had all these bunched up feelings and no idea how to deal with them, so it was worth a try.

  The issue was that as much as I trusted him with my secret, I didn’t trust my mother. There was something about her finding out I was in love for the first time in my life that I knew would have gotten her exasperatingly mushy. She’d start asking questions and wouldn’t let go, taking my aggravation as a key tool to know how deeply my feelings for Abby went. And the other issue, she’d tell Jenna. Those two told each other everything.

  “I kissed Abby last night.”

  “I see.” He didn’t seem surprised at all. “And this makes you –”

  “Nervous, anxious, stupid, happy.” I grabbed my hair with both hands and sat on the side of the bathtub. “I don’t know. Enormously screwed.”

  “Come on, Oliver. I think you’re exaggerating this a little bit. I mean, we’re talking about Abby. You know her, she knows you… I really doubt it’s as bad as it seems.” He walked over and sat by my side. “How did she react to the kiss?”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? How in the world can you not know? Did she kiss you back?”

  “Um… Maybe? I’m not sure. It kind of happened real fast, and then I couldn’t see her eyes, so I got nervous and left her under the willow tree.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  “Besides calling me Monkey Butt? No. But she didn’t show up in the window to wave goodnight last night. Dad, I really think I screwed up.”

  He crossed his arms and smiled. Why he would smile while I was having a mental breakdown, I couldn’t comprehend, but he was irritating the hell out of me.

  “What makes you think you screwed up?” he asked, curiously.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean she’s been acting really weird lately.”

  “Okay...” Seeing as though I wouldn’t elaborate on the subject, he remained quiet and thoughtful for a while, and then looked back up to me. “How was the kiss?”

  I felt the thrumming inside my heart just thinking about it and smiled.

  “That good, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “Then what’s got you so worried?”

  “She’s my best friend.”

  “And?”

  I frowned. “Best friends aren’t supposed to kiss each other, Dad.”

  “Oliver, what would you say if I told you that Abby’s at home right now probably having the same internal debate as you are?”

  “I’d tell you that you’re completely delusional.”

  He raised his brow, questioning me with his gaze.

  “What?”

  “How much do you like Abby, son?”

  I scrunched my nose, realizing that our conversation was heading in a direction I wasn’t quite sure I was ready to address yet.

  I sighed. “The thing is, Dad, I think I’m in love with her.

  “Then you have nothing to fear.”

  “How can you even say that? I have everything to fear. She’s my best friend. What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

  What if I hurt her?

  “I can’t risk losing her.”

  “You won’t. Abbygail loves you, Oliver. And I can guarantee that your friendship means more to her than you could ever imagine. You two have a connection so rare that nothing could tear you apart. I swear, when you two are around each other it’s like you’re holding on to each other’s next breath.”

  “Dad, Abby has this profound theory that all passionate relationships are doomed for failure.”

  “And what do you think?”

 
; “That she’s wrong. But–”

  “Then maybe you should try showing her.”

  “Really. And how would I manage that if she’s convinced that she can’t be in love without being hurt? What if I fail? What if in the process I hurt her and lose my best friend?”

  “What if your fears are also hers?” He raised his eyebrow at me. “Give her time to think and feel, Oliver. I promise she’ll come around. I would even be willing to bet you a thousand dollars that she feels the same way about you.”

  “A thousand, huh?

  “Don’t even think about it. You’re going to lose the bet. And trust me if you do decide to go against me on this, I’ll be using that thousand dollars in man-power. Now go get ready for school. I’m already late for work because of your daydreaming.”

  I laughed and he all but pushed me out of the bathroom.

  “Thanks for the talk, Dad.”

  “Anytime, kid.” he answered with a proud smile.

  Abbygail

  My room looked like a tornado had passed through as I emptied all of my drawers at the same time. I was parading in my underwear and my black and white belly button baseball jersey desperate to find my dark blue jeans. Unfortunately, there were so many clothes everywhere that the task of finding them had proven to be impossible.

  “Mom?” I yelled opening the door to my room.

  I inhaled and smelled the sweet aroma of my mother’s famous banana muffins: they were the best ones on earth.

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Have you seen my nice-ass-jeans?”

  “First of all,” she said, stretching her head from the three steps of our split-level home. “Do not say ass. Second of all, how about you look in the pile of dirty clothes you left on the floor and under your bed.”

  “I did. It’s not there. Was there a third of all?”

  “Actually, yes, there is. When the hell did you start swearing so much?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her. “You’re kidding me right?”

  “Abby, you add swear words between words.”

  “First of all, I do not. Second of all, did you even hear yourself talk right now?”

  “I’m just trying to get my point across, Abbygail. Besides, I’m your mother. Don’t lecture me on the way I talk.”

  I rolled my eyes. “When’s the last time you did my laundry?”

  “When’s the last time you brought it in the laundry room?”

  “Uh…”

  “Yeah, uh. Maybe you should always keep that room of yours that messy, Abbygail. Seems to me like it’s the perfect way to find everything you’re looking for.”

  My mother and her sarcasm... She kept asking me where I got my attitude from; it was like she never listened to herself talk.

  “One day,” I vowed, mumbling. “I’m going to record you.”

  “I heard that.” she yelled. “Abby, it’s seven thirty, and you’re still only half dressed. I have a patient coming in at eight thirty. I’m not driving you to school this morning.”

  I turned back inside my room and shut the door. I rolled my eyes, unsurprised by my visitor sitting on my window frame. Oliver made a habit of climbing inside my house through my bedroom window whenever he felt like seeing me. He was wearing his gray cargo shorts with a black fitted t-shirt. His dark hair was showing under the red Volcom baseball cap I’d bought him for his birthday.

  As usual… hot.

  He inhaled. “Mmmm. Did your mother make banana muffins?”

  I nodded, creasing my forehead at his intrusion. It had suddenly dawned on me that I was still very much underdressed.

  “What?”

  “Any reason why you’re sneaking up on me while I’m in my underwear?”

  “Of course there is, but in my defense it’s your own fault. You’re late, and I thought you’d be ready.”

  “Clearly I’m not,” I argued. “You could have used the front door instead of glaring at my ass while my back was turned.”

  “You wish I’d be glaring at your ass,” he mocked.

  I froze.

  “Anyway, what’s the difference between that and the bathing suit you wore last night?”

  “It’s a laced thong.”

  He shrugged as if he couldn’t care less.

  “You know,” he said hopping off the window. “Your mom’s right. Your room really is a fucking mess.”

  “Shut up. Half the stuff in here belongs to you. Now get out and let me get ready.”

  “With pleasure.” He walked all the way to my door trying to avoid stepping on my things.

  “Hey, Aunt Jen?” he yelled from my door frame. “Did you make an extra two for me?”

  “Yes, I did. And could you please explain what’s wrong with my front door, Oliver Langton?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with your front door. I just really like your daughter’s bedroom window.”

  “You do realize that she might decide to lock you out one day.”

  He chuckled and turned back to me and winked. “She wouldn’t dare.”

  I shook my head annoyed by their conversation.

  “Abbygail.”

  I raised my eyes to his.

  “Your nice-ass-jeans are hanging in your closet.”

  “I thought you didn’t care about my ass.” I exclaimed before he closed the door.

  His smiling face reappeared through the crack. “I don’t. It’s kind of big.”

  “I hate you.”

  “And I love you. Now get ready. We’re going to miss the bus.”

  I pulled my hair up in a neat ponytail and added a black ribbon in a loose bow. I looked at my reflection and groaned at the many little brown specks on my cheeks. They were always worse at the end of the summer.

  “Freckle Face, let’s go,” Oliver shouted from outside. “You have five more minutes to come out, or I’m leaving without you.”

  I walked up to my window and watched my best friend leaning on the huge rock in front of my house. He was basically stuffing his face with my mother’s banana muffins.

  “See if I care,” I yelled back. “I’ll just walk. Apparently, my ass needs the work.”

  He shook his head. There was something odd in his expression, I wish I knew what was going on in his head at that exact moment. He pulled his eyes away from his food and they landed on mine. The way he was looking at me made my heart flutter. I bit my bottom lip preventing my smile from cracking, but then he had to ruin the moment by raising his brow questioningly at me.

  “Cut the self-conscious crap Abby. I’m your best friend. If I liked your ass, it’d be weird”

  Whatever!

  The split-level house my mother and I lived in was pretty big for two people, but it was the one I grew up in. I wouldn’t have wanted it to be anywhere else. At one point, my father lived with us, but his presence didn’t last very long. I was four years old when he bailed on our family.

  My parents met during their last year of university. My mother was an aspiring dentist and Simon, my father, a journalist. Both had secured themselves good jobs even before their graduation. When Aunt Evelynn moved to B.C., my parents decided to move in together and bought a condo in Toronto. They lived happily ever after for a little over a year, and then I came into the picture ruining their perfectly content life.

  A month before finding out that my mother was pregnant, Simon had applied for a job that would make him travel the world, something that apparently fascinated him, but that he never discussed with her until after he got the job. Unfortunately, my unexpected arrival was making a huge dent in his plans.

  And then, I was born.

  When my mother heard that the house across the street from her best friend was for sale, she managed to convince Simon that it would be a good idea to move away from the big city and settle into their first home as a family. Her best argument to convince him was that he was traveling so much for his work, and having Aunt Evy around could only be a positive aspect for our family. Conceding to my
mother’s desires, we moved into our home in Carrington. Unfortunately for my mom, her plan backfired.

  My mother once told me that when I was born, Simon was okay with the idea of being a dad, but he travelled a lot, and as I grew up, he got better job opportunities. If he had to turn them down, he got angry. She did what she could to maintain balance in their relationship. She set her career aside for him and stayed home with me, but Simon was good at what he did, and he spent more time away than taking care of his family. I have a vague memory of them arguing over his constant lack of presence. Then one day, he just picked up and left. The day he left was the last time I saw him for years. He never wrote, he never called, no cards, no gifts… nothing.

  My father’s absence from my life had always been an issue for the both of us, but I guess in time I learned how to live with the fact that I ended up being last place on Simon’s list of priorities. I often wondered what I did wrong, but most of the time, even though I never confronted her about it, I blamed my mother. I assumed that his decision to leave was related to an ultimatum she had imposed, because that’s just the way she was: stubborn, just like me.

  But in the end, I guess it didn’t really matter. I had her, I had Aunt Evelynn and Uncle Henry, but most of all, I had Oliver. He kept me safe, he kept me sane and he was the one person I could count on, the one guy I trusted with my life.

  “You’re cleaning that room of yours as soon as you come back from school, Abbygail,” my mother ordered. She was standing at the bottom steps waiting for me with my breakfast in her hand. “I’m sick and tired of always picking up after you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it tonight, after Oliver’s football practice.”

  I grabbed the muffin and kissed her on the cheek. “Have a nice tooth repairing day Mom!”

  I shut the door behind me and faced my best friend who was grinning at me.