Page 55 of Here We Go Again

Hale peeks at her through her fingers. “You noticed the handkerchief too, right? The one he always carries around? The initials on it? Do you think that maybe Remy is Joe’s one regret?”

“Maybe.” Logan’s throat feels strangely dry, and she cracks open her can of Sprite. In front of them, the sun sinks lower, and the sky explodes. Electric yellow at the horizon, then flames of gold, burnt orange, and bright pink lick the bottoms of the clouds. Everything burns radiantly.

“Do you have any major regrets?” Hale asks, so plainly, it takes Logan a second to arrive at the safest answer.

“Me? Are you kidding? I say at least ten regrettable thingsa day.”

Hale tucks her legs beneath her and angles her body toward Logan’s on the couch. “I mean,realregrets. Remy-level regrets.”

She swallows another sip of Sprite. “My twenties are basically an orgy of regrets,” she says, because she can’t tell her the truth. That most of her regrets in life are about Rosemary Hale.

Logan regrets kissing her in that garden and giving away that small sliver of her true heart.

She regrets not kissing her sooner.

She regrets being so damn petty when Hale kissed Jake. Sheregrets not telling her how she really felt. She regrets letting their friendship disintegrate over something as meaningless as a middle school kiss. She regrets that the kiss wasn’t meaningless at all, at least not to her.

She regrets all the things she did in high school to stretch the chasm between them, and all the things she’s done since Hale moved back.

But even with the friendship truce and the newfound closeness between them, Logan can’t say any of these regrets out loud. It might…changethings between them on the trip.

Or worse, it might change nothing at all.

“Okay, do you want to know what I regret, for realsies?”

Hale nods solemnly. “For realsies.”

“I regret never leaving Vista Summit.” Logan exhales and lets her confession float in the desert air between them. It sounds silly when she says it out loud, but it feels so heavy inside her all the time.

Hale stares out at the swirling sky, and Logan wonders if they’re both thinking about all the summer sunsets they watched from her front porch. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“I don’t know,” she lies. “A million reasons, but mostly… mostly because of my dad.”

Hale turns so she can look at Logan fully. “Your dad?”

“You know how it was back then. He was wrecked when my mom left, heartbroken. For years after, he missed her. And I’m the only person he has! If I left him, I don’t know… it feels like if I left it would mean… that I’m likeher.”

Logan takes another gulp of her soda to stop these humiliating confessions from pouring out. Hale always had this quiet understanding about her that made Logan spill her darkest secrets. “You know, I’ve never actually admitted that to anyone before.”

Hale clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “Really?” she asks. “Not even to your therapist? Because it seems like an obviousbyproduct of your attachment issues caused by your mother’s abandonment.”

Logan laughs. “Do I seem well-adjusted enough to have a therapist?”

“You should really get a therapist.” Hale chews on her bottom lip.

“Oh, just say it!”

“Say what?”

“Whatever it is you want to say!” Logan throws a Dorito at her.

“I think your dad would be really sad to know that you aren’t living the life you want, to protect him.”

Logan remembers her dad in the kitchen two weeks ago, practically begging her to go on this trip. “I don’t even know what kind of life I want to live,” Logan grumbles.

Hale turns to look out at the sun as it spreads its colors like lava across the sky. “I think that’s my biggest regret,” she says quietly. Logan almost misses it over the sound of her own Dorito crunching. “Not living the life I wanted. I regret that I stopped writing.”

When Hale doesn’t offer any further details, Logan treads carefully. “Why did you stop writing?”