No Regrets (19 page)

“Of course. Why do you say it like you're not sure if I'll still be here?” I thought we'd established things at the beach house, but for some reason he still looked worried.

He swallowed. “You told me before that you had too much going on to commit, but you never told me what. Whatever your secret is, it's been keeping us apart. I'm just terrified it will pop up and ruin things.”

My blood turned to ice and it took me a few seconds to be able to breathe. When I did, I tried to force out a smile. Until that second I hadn't thought about Julie or the accident or my promise. I'd only thought about Liam. But in the light of his comment, I knew eventually it was going to come up. Then I'd be forced to make a choice. Maybe it would have been an easy choice for some people, but not for me. For me it would feel like dealing a death blow to Julie.

“It will be fine,” I whispered.

Liam's blue eyes clouded over and he nodded. He pulled me against him and kissed me like he was saying good-bye for good, and for some reason it made me tear up. When he pulled back, I laughed and brushed the tears aside. Trying to act like it was nothing.

I could tell he wasn't convinced.

I
made it through Christmas okay. I didn't talk to Julie and didn't write in my notebook. The need to do both was slowly fading away, and I was working on forgiving myself. Taking Dr. Houseman's advice. It wasn't easy to push away the guilt when it crept up on me—which happened more often at home than it did at school—but whenever it did, I would close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I blew it out, I would focus on a good memory. Something Julie and I had done together that was fun and innocent and couldn't hurt me. Like the time we sat through a
Twilight
marathon, right before the last movie premiered. Ten straight hours of vampire and werewolf love triangles that had us both in tears by the end.

Liam called me every day. Ryan had gotten over his grumpiness a little, and whenever he saw me on the phone with his roommate, he grinned, letting me know it really was okay with him. My mom was beyond thrilled, gushing about how adorable Liam was and how sexy his accent sounded. It was a little weird to hear her use the words
sexy
and
Liam
in the same sentence, but since I couldn't deny it was true, I had to let it go.

It wasn't until Christmas and New Year's had ended that the ball finally dropped. We were only a couple days from going back to school, so close to seeing Liam again I could practically taste his lips. That's when I got the email.

I was in the middle of making hot chocolate with my mom when my phone dinged, letting me know I had a new email. It was in my back pocket and my hands were full, so I ignored the message until I had made it safely into the other room with the steaming mugs. I handed one off to Ryan, then pulled out my phone as I settled onto the couch. My dad had a movie all ready to start, and I almost put my phone down. Then I remembered the email. I pulled it up, and when I saw the name, my hand shook so badly I almost let go of my mug. A couple drops flew out and landed on my wrist. I was too focused on my phone to even feel the sting of the hot liquid.

I pulled up the email, and held my breath while I read:

The message didn't tell me much, only that Julie's older sister wanted to talk to me. I hadn't seen Jamie in years, since even before the accident. I had no idea whether or not she blamed me the way her parents did, but I knew I couldn't just ignore her. What if she wanted to tell me something important? Like she forgave me. Or better yet, Julie's mom forgave me. What if something had happened to Julie? There were dozens of possibilities, so many that I knew I'd never be able to sleep until I saw Jamie and found out what was happening. She said it couldn't wait. That it was important.

My hands shook when I emailed her back, so I kept it simple, telling her I could meet tomorrow at Starbucks. I hit
SEND
, then sat back and tried to focus on the movie. My vision was so blurry and unfocused that the screen looked like nothing but colorful fuzz.

Less than a minute later, my phone dinged again. I pulled the email up and my heart pounded when I saw the message from Jamie, confirming that she would meet me the next day at noon. I was too shaky to even try to respond.

I barely slept a wink, and the next day I was out of the house by eleven. Starbucks was literally ten minutes from my house, but I couldn't sit still. I even ignored Liam's call, which made me writhe with shame. You'd think I would eventually get used to the way my gut clenched when I was wracked with guilt, but I never did.

I couldn't stop squirming while I waited for Jamie to show up. Starbucks was full, but I'd chosen a table in the back corner. It was as private as we could get in a place like this. I wasn't sure what Jamie had to say, but I was pretty certain I didn't want to hear it. Not when there were so many people around to watch me crumble to pieces. The door opened and the second I set eyes on Jamie, my legs started to shake. She looked exactly the same as the last time I'd seen her. Her golden hair was pulled back and her cheeks were pink from the cold. She rubbed her hands together while she scanned the room, and when her brown eyes met mine, everything around us froze.

She smiled as she headed my way, but it was sad. Hesitant, even. Like she wasn't sure if she wanted to see me. That made two of us.

“Hi, Cami,” she said as she slid into the chair across from me.

“Hi.” My voice shook, so I swallowed, hoping to control it.

Jamie took a deep breath, then tugged on her ponytail. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“I was surprised you wanted to see me.”

“I don't blame you, Cami.” Jamie leaned back and her shoulders slumped, and when she looked down, I noticed the circles under her eyes. She'd tried to cover them up with makeup, but it didn't work.

Neither one of us said a word for a few moments; the silence stretched on until I was squirming in my chair. It felt like there was a cloud hanging over me and I was waiting for it to open up. I knew it was coming, I just wasn't sure when.

I couldn't take the suspense any longer, so I blurted out, “I went to see her.”

Jamie looked up and her eyes held mine, but it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. “Julie?”

I nodded even though I didn't need to, just as she didn't really need to ask. Julie was the only thing connecting Jamie and me. “Over the summer, right before I went off to college. I needed to say good-bye. Then, over Thanksgiving break, I went to the hospital. Your parents were there . . .”

Jamie nodded like I didn't have to tell her how that had turned out. Maybe she'd heard the story from her mom and dad. Remembering it made my face flush with shame and my insides hurt. Like they were bleeding. I felt so messed up inside, but no one got it. Not really.

My eyes met Jamie's, and I realized I was wrong about that. Jamie understood.

Suddenly, I had the need to talk to someone who got how I felt. Someone who was hurting not only as much as I was, but more.

“I talk to her,” I said. “I know it sounds crazy, and maybe it is, but I've been talking to her ever since the accident. I even write her letters, tell her what I'm doing. I can't seem to let her go.”

“I talk to her too,” Jamie whispered.

Something inside me eased. Hearing that Jamie did the same thing made me see things in a different light. Made me believe I wasn't totally nuts after all. I was dealing the only way I knew how, just like everyone else. Sure, it was a little outside the box, but that's how I'd always been anyway. A square peg trying to fit into a world full of round holes, so to speak.

Jamie scooted forward in her chair, then leaned closer to me. The expression on her face was so serious it made all the comfort I'd taken in her words disappear. With that one look all the confidence and peace I'd felt a second ago was gone. Vanished. Like it had never been there in the first place.

“They're turning off her life support,” Jamie said in a trembling voice. “There isn't much time left.”

All the air left my lungs and my heart sputtered like it was on the verge of quitting. Or breaking.

Of all the things I'd imagined Jamie was going to tell me, those words were something I hadn't even considered. A part of me had really believed Julie would be there forever. That her parents would never let her go. That I would be in limbo for the rest of my life, visiting her in the hospital. Watching her age in that bed while the world continued to move around her. There had been so many times I'd wished her parents would just have the guts to move on. My reasons were partially selfish, sure. I'd thought if Julie could find her peace, then maybe I could too.

Now that it was here, I wasn't sure if I was ready.

“I wanted you to know,” Jamie said, swiping her hand across her eyes. “So you'd have a chance to say good-bye to her.”

My throat burned with unshed tears, but I swallowed them down. “When? You said there wasn't much time. When are they doing it?”

Jamie sat back and let out a deep breath. In that moment, she looked like she was forty years old. The light in her once youthful eyes had dimmed, leaving nothing behind but emptiness. “In a week. I don't know why they're waiting until then. They've finally decided to go ahead and move on, so it just makes sense to get it over with. Like pulling off a Band-Aid, you know? To be honest, there haven't been many things they've done since the accident that I've understood. But they're my parents and Julie is their daughter, and they're hurting, and I know they're trying to deal with it all the best they can.”

“Do they still blame me?” I whispered, even though I knew the answer. I wanted to look away from Jamie so she wouldn't see the pain in my eyes, but I couldn't. I needed to see her expression. Needed to know the truth.

“Probably, I don't know.” Jamie shrugged, then shook her head as if none of it mattered anyway. “They just needed someone to blame so they didn't have to blame themselves. You know that, right? But Cami, Julie made those choices. Not you, not me, and not Mom and Dad. Julie.”

My chest tightened and the sudden urge to hurl was so strong I had to swallow it down. Jamie was saying the accident was Julie's fault? It didn't feel right. Like badmouthing the dead. When someone passes away, you're only supposed to say good things about them. No matter how much of an asshole they were, you don't trash them. Right?

“You're blaming Julie?”

“I'm saying that we all make choices, and Julie made hers. It may have left the rest of us in pieces, but that doesn't mean we're to blame.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them back. “So everyone keeps telling me.”

Jamie exhaled and her eyes filled with tears again. This time, she didn't bother to wipe them away. “You aren't the only one who let her get away with stuff.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, studying her closely.

“I could never tell Julie no. She was my baby sister. She knew how to push my buttons. What to say or do to get her way.” Jamie pressed her lips together and her hands clenched into fists. “I've never told anyone. Maybe I should tell my parents, I don't know. I just can't stand the thought of them thinking I betrayed them when they're still hurting so much.”

“What are you talking about, Jamie?” My own hands were clenched, only in my lap where she couldn't see them. The sharp points of my nails dug into my palms, threatening to break the skin.

“I covered for her all the time,” Jamie said. “She would tell Mom and Dad she was staying at my house, then go to a party. Sometimes it was five o'clock in the morning before she got home. I let it happen. Convinced myself she'd do it anyway. That she'd be okay as long as she had a safe place to go at the end of the night.”

I couldn't talk. It had never occurred to me that Jamie might have aided in Julie's rebellion. Jamie had always been the good girl. The one with straight A's. The teacher's pet. Was she telling me all this so I'd feel better, or so she would? I wasn't even sure whether or not it did make me feel better. It didn't change what I'd done.

“I still feel responsible,” I said. “I'm trying to get over it, to move on. But it's so hard.”

Jamie nodded and tugged on her ponytail again. “I know. Believe me.” A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away. She took a deep breath, then stood. “I'm sorry, but I can't stay. It's just too hard. But I wanted to make sure you knew what was happening. You and Julie were so close. From that first day in kindergarten . . .” She swallowed and looked away. “You should get to say good-bye, too.”

She took one step away and nodded as if she was trying to convince herself she'd done the right thing. She turned, looking back at me one last time before heading to the door. “Go tonight. Mom and Dad are making arrangements for the funeral. They won't be there. Do it while you have the chance.”

Then Jamie hurried out of Starbucks, leaving me alone. Again.

 

The sterile white halls of the hospital felt darker and smaller than they actually were. There was no logical explanation for it, not with the bright fluorescent lights shining down on me from above. The closer I got to the room, the tighter my body felt. As if everything was about to close in on me. It's how I always felt when I came to visit, and after last time it was all so much worse. Jamie had assured me her parents wouldn't be around, but my heart was still pounding like crazy. What if they were here again?

A nurse headed my way, and I hid my face, afraid she would recognize me from before. Luckily, she was focused on the file in her hand and didn't even glance my way. Relaxing was impossible, though.

I slowed as I approached Julie's room. The door was open, which wasn't unusual, but I wanted to stake the place out before I went in. I wouldn't survive a repeat of the last visit. Mrs. Wilson's shrill voice still rang in my ears.

I stopped outside the door and peeked in. The curtain dividing the room was drawn shut, and I could only see the end of Julie's bed. The room looked empty, so I took one hesitant step inside. Waiting. Holding my breath while I strained my ears for any sound that might indicate someone was sitting on the other side of the curtain. The machines keeping Julie alive clicked and beeped, and the respirator made the same sound it always did: a quiet whooshing noise that reminded me of Darth Vader, which always made me smile just a little. Julie would have laughed at that.