Page 10 of Regretting You

Chapter Four

Clara

I probably shouldn’t have called my mother predictable last night, because this is the first time in a long time that I’ve woken up for school and didn’t find her in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

Maybe I should apologize, because I’m starving.

I find her in the living room, still in her pajamas, watching an episode of Real Housewives . “What’s for breakfast?”

“I didn’t feel like cooking. Eat a Pop-Tart.”

Definitely shouldn’t have called her predictable.

My father walks through the living room, straightening out his tie. He pauses when he sees my mother lying on the couch. “You feeling okay?”

My mother rolls her head so that she’s looking up at us from her comfy position on the couch. “I’m fine. I just didn’t feel like making breakfast.”

When she gives her attention back to the television, Dad and I look at each other. He raises a brow before walking over to her and pressing a quick kiss on her forehead. “See you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she says.

I follow my dad into the kitchen. I grab the Pop-Tarts and hand him one. “I think it’s my fault.”

“That she didn’t cook breakfast?”

I nod. “I told her she was predictable last night.”

Dad’s nose scrunches up. “Oh. Yeah, that wasn’t nice.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. She asked me to describe her using one word, and it’s the first thing that came to mind.”

He pours himself a cup of coffee and leans against the counter in thought. “I mean ... you aren’t wrong. She does like routine.”

“Wakes up at six every morning. Breakfast is ready by seven.”

“Dinner at seven thirty every night,” he says.

“Rotating menu.”

“Gym at ten every morning.”

“Grocery shopping on Mondays,” I add.

“Sheets get washed every Wednesday.”

“See?” I say in defense. “She’s predictable. It’s more of a fact than an insult.”

“Well,” he says, “there was that one time we came home, and she’d left a note saying she went to the casino with Jenny.”

“I remember that. We thought she’d been kidnapped.”

We really did think that. It was so unlike her to take a spontaneous overnight trip without planning months in advance, so we called both of them just to make sure she was the one who wrote the note.

My father laughs as he pulls me in for a hug.

I love his hugs. He wears the softest white button-up shirts to work, and sometimes when his arms are around me, it’s like being wrapped in a cozy blanket.

Only that blanket smells of the outdoors, and it sometimes disciplines you.

“I need to get going.” He releases me and pulls at my hair. “Have fun at school.”

“Have fun at work.”

I follow him out of the kitchen to find Mom no longer on the couch but standing in front of the television. She’s pointing the remote at the TV screen. “The cable just froze.”

“It’s probably the remote,” Dad says.

“Or the operator,” I say, taking the remote from my mother. She always hits the wrong button and can’t remember which one to press to get her back to her show. I hit all the buttons and nothing works, so I power everything off.

Aunt Jenny walks into the house as I’m attempting to power the television back on for my mother. “Knock, knock,” she says, swinging open the door. Dad helps her with Elijah’s car seat and an armful of stuff. I power the television back on, but it doesn’t do anything.

“I think it’s broken.”

“Oh, God ,” my mother says, as if the idea of being home all day with an infant and no television is a nightmare of an existence.

Aunt Jenny hands my mother Elijah’s diaper bag. “You guys still have cable? No one has cable anymore.”

There’s only a year of age difference between Aunt Jenny and my mom, but sometimes it feels as though my mother is the parent of both of us.

“We try to tell her, but she insists on keeping it,” I say.

“I don’t want to watch my shows on an iPad,” my mother says in defense.

“We get Netflix on our television,” my father says. “You can still watch it on the television.”

“Bravo isn’t on Netflix,” my mother responds. “We’re keeping the cable.”

This conversation is making my head hurt, so I take Elijah out of his car seat to get a minute in with him before I have to leave for school.

I was so excited when I found out Aunt Jenny was pregnant. I always wanted a sibling, but Mom and Dad never wanted more kids after they had me. He’s as close as I’ll ever get to a brother, so I want to be familiar to him. I want him to like me more than anyone else.

“Let me hold him,” my father says, taking Elijah from me. I like how much my dad likes his nephew. Kind of makes me wish he and Mom would have another one. It’s not too late. She’s only thirty-four. I should have written it down again on her birthday board last night.

Aunt Jenny hands my mother a list of written instructions. “Here’s his feeding times. And how to heat the breast milk. And I know you have my cell phone number, but I wrote it down again in case your phone dies. I wrote Jonah’s number down too.”

“I’ve raised a human before,” my mother says.

“Yeah, but it was a long time ago,” Aunt Jenny says. “They might have changed since then.” She walks over to my father and gives Elijah a kiss on the head. “Bye, sweetie. Mommy loves you.”

Aunt Jenny starts to leave, so I grab my backpack in a hurry because there’s something I need to discuss with her. I follow her out the front door, but she doesn’t realize I’m behind her until she’s almost to her car.

“Miller unfollowed me on Instagram last night.”

She turns around, startled by my sudden presence. “Already?” She opens her car door and hangs on to it. “Did you say something that made him angry?”

“No, we haven’t spoken since I left his house. I didn’t post anything. I didn’t even comment on any of his pictures. I just don’t get it. Why follow me and then unfollow me hours later?”

“Social media is so confusing.”

“So are guys.”

“Not as confusing as we are,” she says. She tilts her head, eyeing me. “Do you like him?”

I can’t lie to her. “I don’t know. I try not to, but he’s so different from all the other guys at my school. He goes out of his way to ignore me, and he’s always eating suckers. And his relationship with his grandpa is adorably weird.”

“So ... you like him because he ignores you, eats suckers, and has a weird grandpa?” Aunt Jenny makes a concerned face. “That’s ... those are weird reasons, Clara.”

I shrug. “I mean, he’s cute too. And apparently, he wants to go to college as a film major. We have that in common.”

“That helps. But I mean, it sounds like you barely know him. I wouldn’t take the unfollow too personal.”

“I know.” I groan and fold my arms over my chest. “Attraction is so stupid. And knowing he unfollowed me already put me in a shit mood, and it’s only seven in the morning.”

“Maybe his girlfriend saw the follow and didn’t like it,” Aunt Jenny suggests.

I thought about that possibility for a brief moment this morning. But I didn’t like thinking about Miller and his girlfriend discussing me.

My father walks out the front door, so Aunt Jenny gives me a hug goodbye and goes to leave because she’s parked behind both of us. I get in my car and text Lexie while I wait for Jenny to pull out of the driveway behind me.

I hope you got my text last night about me picking you up half an hour early. You never responded.

She still hasn’t responded when I pull into her driveway.

Just when I’m about to call her, she comes tumbling out of her house, her backpack hanging from the crease of her elbow while she attempts to slide on a shoe.

She has to stop and press her hand to the hood of the car to finish getting the shoe on.

She stumbles to the door, her hair in disarray, mascara still under her eyes. She’s like a drunk hurricane.

She gets in the car and shuts the door, dropping her backpack to the floorboard. She pulls out her makeup bag.

“You just woke up?”

“Yeah, four minutes ago when you texted. Sorry.”

“How’d the Tinder date go?” I say sarcastically.

Lexie laughs. “I can’t believe your family still believes I have a Tinder account.”

“You lie to them about having it every time you’re around. Why would they believe otherwise?”

“I work too much. All I have time for is school and work and maybe a shower if I’m lucky.” She opens her makeup bag. “By the way. Did you hear about Miller and Shelby?”

I whip my head in her direction. “No. What about them?”

She opens her mascara just as I pull up to a stop sign.

“Stop here for a second.” She begins putting on her mascara, and I wait for her to finish whatever she was going to say about Miller Adams and his girlfriend.

How random that it’s the first thing she brought up and it’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about since I gave him a ride yesterday.

“What about Miller and Shelby?”

Lexie moves her mascara wand to her other eye. She still doesn’t answer me, so I ask her again. “Lexie, what happened?”

“Jeez,” she says, stuffing the mascara wand back into the tube. “Give me a sec.” She motions for me to continue driving while she pulls out her lipstick. “They broke up last night.”

That’s my favorite sentence that’s ever come out of Lexie’s mouth.

“How do you know?”

“Emily told me. Shelby called her.”

“Why’d they break up?” I’m trying not to care. Really trying.

“Apparently, it’s because of you.”

“ Me? ” I look back at the road. “That’s ridiculous. I gave him a ride to his house. He was in my car for three minutes tops.”

“Shelby thinks he cheated on her with you.”

“Shelby sounds like she has trust issues.”

“That’s really all it was?” Lexie asks. “A ride?”

“Yes. It was that inconsequential.”

“Do you like him?” she asks.

“No. Of course not. He’s an asshole.”

“He is not. He’s super nice. Annoyingly nice.”

She’s right. He is. He’s only an asshole to me. “Isn’t it weird that my father thinks he’s such a bad person?”

Lexie shrugs. “Not really. Your father doesn’t even like me, and I’m awesome.”

“He likes you,” I say. “He only teases the people he likes.”