No Regrets (4 page)

When I finally got up off the floor of the library study room and stumbled to first hour late, more than just my stomach felt empty. I felt like such crap all morning, barely able to listen in any class.

“Are you sick?” a girl asked me in Spanish class. I started to shake my head, but that was no good. I put my head on the desk. The teacher came over.

“Do you need a pass to the nurse?” the teacher said, already writing one out.

I told the nurse I'd already thrown up twice. “There's a bad stomach bug going around,” she said. “Let's call your parents. Can someone pick you up?”

“My dad's home,” I said. “But I took the car.”

“Well, I still need to notify your parents,” she said. I told her to call my mom.

When I got home, no one was there. At least, nobody answered me. I couldn't care less where my dad was. I just wanted my bed. I fell asleep as soon as I lay down.

I dreamed about Marquis last summer. I didn't want to wake up. When I finally opened my eyes, my body felt a little better, but my heart was still sad. I wished I could just stay in last summer when everything felt simple, before I had to make choices. Choices that might turn out to be wrong.

I felt sad, too, because I was forgetting so much. I couldn't remember exactly what the tattoo on his shoulder looked like or the way his voice sounded. I pulled out my phone to look at the four pictures I had where you could see Marquis' face. I had a lot of his hand because he didn't like having his picture taken. A couple times I'd surprised him when he wasn't looking. And two pictures I had taken of us with our arms around each other. But I'd had to beg him.

I'd memorized these pictures. In the ones with me, it didn't really look like Marquis. His smile was fake. The others were him turning his head, his eyes half-closed, about to say something, and him lying on his cousin's couch with his arm over his eyes. You couldn't see enough just looking at them on a phone.

Then a new idea came to me. I could go back and take pictures—even a video—of him. Of us. Then at least I'd have a perfect memory forever.

Even after sleeping, I still felt bad. No way could I run today. I sent Tanaya a text telling her to tell the coach I went home sick. Anyway, all I cared about was seeing Marquis. But this time I was going to have a plan.

I knew what I wanted to see. It was the thing I tried to relive the most—the first time we'd made out. Or at least the first time that counted. We'd hooked up at a party first, but we were both pretty drunk, so I wasn't sure it meant anything.

I remembered how I felt kind of shy when I saw him the next day and how I tried to hide it. I wanted to be cool with whatever happened even though I knew I liked him.

But then someone wanted smokes and beer and someone else wanted chips, and Marquis said he'd go and I should come help him carry stuff. I still wasn't sure what that meant. Then the walk back got slow, and Marquis stopped at a park.

“Won't they want their stuff?” I asked.

“Let them wait,” he said. “Come sit with me.”

I came out of the memory, shaking myself. I needed to think so I could see this in person. First, I needed a disguise. Didn't need anyone freaking out if they saw me. I pulled a hoodie out of my closet and dug around for some sunglasses.

I didn't know where at the park I was going to land, but I couldn't just stand around taking pictures of them without looking like a weirdo. What if Marquis came after me? I giggled.

Too bad I didn't have some little kid I could take with me. We had been sitting on the picnic table not too far from the playground. I tried to think why else someone might be hanging around. My eyes fell on my shelf of stuffed animals.

I picked up Big Dawg, who was actually a pretty small fluffy white dog. My dad had won him for me one time at the fair. Big Dawg was standing up, and he kind of looked real. At least maybe he would from far away. And he was still wearing the leash I used to drag him around the house with. I put him down on the floor and practiced making him walk using the leash. Just like when I was a kid and my parents wouldn't get me a real dog.

I snuggled him in my arms, tucking his legs in, and looked in the mirror. It looked real enough. Probably they'd never notice me, too busy getting it on. And maybe I could just hide behind a tree. I tucked all my hair back in the hood. I slipped my phone in my pocket. It was now or never.

I was about to bang my heels together when I realized I wasn't sure about the date or the time. I sat down on the bed. Crap, I didn't want to mess this up. I still felt sick. I had to get it right—I didn't think I could handle a bunch of trips to try to figure it out.

The party was probably on a Friday or Saturday. But I had barely known what day it was the whole time I was in Chicago. I didn't have school, my grandma didn't work. I tried to remember what else I'd done that day. Had I been at my cousin's? My aunt worked a regular schedule. My cousin had been at the party …

I looked way back through my texts. I closed my eyes. Dang, this was hard. I kept staring at the calendar on my phone like it was going to start talking. Finally I decided it was probably June 30. I let out a big breath.

Now for the time. People were hungry. It was light, but the sun was going down, I thought. And we'd gone to the store and then walked to the park … What time had we finally gotten back to the apartment?

I stood up again. I just needed to do this and take my chances.

“Future. June 30, 7:45 p.m.”

As I banged my heels together, I heard a door close inside my house. But I was already going.

I fell against a brick wall, banging my head and holding Big Dawg tight. I fought the puking feeling, breathing hard and closing my eyes. I was in some alley, and I had no idea where I was. Then I heard my voice.

“Shut up!” But I was just playing, flirting. I heard Marquis laugh and say something. They were getting closer. I held my breath. They both laughed again (was that when I tried to hit him with the bag and he ran away from me?). They were about to pass the alley. I turned a little so my face wouldn't be obvious.

They passed, pushing each other and laughing. Man, I was too early. This was before the park. I peeked out of the alley and saw them going down the sidewalk. And now I saw where we were—not too far from the park, I thought.

I started walking behind them, trying to look normal. I pulled out my phone and realized I was carrying Big Dawg. Dang. I wished I had brought a bag or something. I thought about dropping him, but I would need him if I made it to the park. Besides, Big Dawg used to be one of my favorite stuffed animals. I tucked him into my hoodie and zipped it up and hoped I didn't look like a total freak.

I took a few pictures of their backs, trying to get close enough to hear something but not make them turn to look at me. The traffic was too loud to hear them, though. Marquis touched her arm, and they turned down a street. Going for the park. I followed them, giving some distance.

I ducked behind the Boys and Girls Club building to see where I could go to be able to see them but not be seen, at least too well.

Hurry up!
I thought at them. At least a couple of minutes were gone. I looked around. Tennis courts, playground, field. No good trees right by the table they were heading for.

If I could get into the tube slide, that would be good, but how was I going to do that? Maybe they'd just think I was a junkie or crazy homeless person and ignore me. Or maybe Marquis would come over and tell me I shouldn't leave needles around where little kids played. Sometimes he did that kind of thing. I had kind of loved that about him.

I could feel time ticking. They were just sitting still (didn't we start kissing right away?), so I ran around to the other end of the building and around the corner. I strolled out onto the field, holding Big Dawg like he was real, my phone in my other hand like I was texting.

I got as close as I could and bent down to put Big Dawg in the grass, holding onto the leash. I looked at them out of the corner of my eye. They were lip-locked. I took a picture and then hit video. I was watching them get into it on my phone when I felt that feeling. I was gone.

“—la!”

My dad's voice. I saw my door was open as I doubled over on the floor, still clutching Big Dawg's leash. I couldn't keep it in, and I puked right on him. Just that nasty stuff when there's nothing else in your stomach.

“Layla!” His voice was coming closer.

Crap, crap, crap.
I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and tried to stand up.

“Layla!” He was in my doorway. “Where were you? Mom called and said you'd come home sick, but I was just in here and you weren't.” Then he covered his nose. “Dang, what is that smell? You get sick in here?”

I nodded weakly, and I wasn't playing. Maybe the sicker I acted, the less he'd ask me.

“We gotta clean that up. I'ma get some paper towels.” He backed out fast. I fell back on the bed. Poor Big Dawg.

Dad threw Big Dawg in the bathroom sink and wiped up the floor. He dumped baking soda on the spot and covered it with a paper towel.

“OK, don't step on it,” he said. “You feel like you're going to be sick again?”

I shook my head, my eyes closed.

“You want some water?”

I nodded.

He got me a glass and helped me sit up to drink. Then he covered me up with my blankets.

“You better rest now. You'll feel better then. I'ma stay home now, OK? You call me if you need something. Here, I'ma put a bowl by your bed, just in case.”

I heard him leave and come back. A clang from a metal mixing bowl on the floor. He put his hand on my head. It felt good. He gave me a kiss on the forehead. “OK, I love you, baby girl. You sleep now.” He left.

I could feel sleep pulling at me, but I needed to see what all this was for. What had I gotten? I turned on my phone. Then I couldn't believe it. Nothing. Not even the pictures I took of our backs while we were walking. Nothing, nothing at all.

“Seriously, girl, I'm getting worried about you.”

Even in my dream I was tired. “Leave me alone.”

“You gotta quit doing this just for fun. It takes a lot out of you. Now you know cell phones don't always like time travel.”

“Go away.”

“You going to start being smart with your trips? So far you've gotten nothing. Not that I understand exactly what you're after.”

I refused to answer and pushed myself deeper asleep.

I didn't really want to admit it, but the guy was right. Time travel did take a lot out of me. I made it to school the next day, but by my last class, there was no way I could imagine going to practice. And I really didn't care what happened.

Tanaya showed up at my locker. “You ready?”

“I'm not going,” I said. “I still don't feel good.”

She frowned. “You've got to come talk to Coach yourself. I told her you went home sick yesterday, but she's mad you just blew off practice the day before. You don't want to get kicked off the team … do you?”

I shrugged.

Tanaya put her hand on my arm. “I thought you liked track. You said you liked running. And it's just nice to have a thing … a thing we do together.”

“You mean without Cherry hanging on you for once?” I said in a snotty voice. I was in no mood to be nice.

She threw up her hands. “Oh my God! You guys are exactly the same—I wish you could hear each other! Sometimes I feel like a toy y'all are fighting over like babies! Cherry is one of my best friends. She has been for a long time. She's been through a lot.
We've
been through a lot together. But I want to be friends with both of you. Is that so wrong?”

I rubbed my head. I so did not have the energy for this drama right now. Cherry was irky sometimes, but she really wasn't that bad. Her family was crazy, but she didn't talk about them much. Not to me, at least. And she was spending more time with her man these days anyway.

“OK, OK,” I said. “I'll come tell Coach myself that I feel like crap and I'll puke if I run one step. Calm down.”

Tanaya hip-bumped me into my locker. “Puking is part of running—you know that.”

I rolled my eyes.

Coach wasn't impressed by my sick story. “You look well enough to sit on the bench at least and help me with stats. Suit up. And it won't hurt you to have a day watching everyone else's form.”

I groaned.

It did feel good to just sit still and have something simple to do that still kept my mind busy. I'd barely listened in class again today—too boring, compared to thinking about Marquis. But with Coach calling things out to me all the time, I couldn't space out as easily.

I listened while Coach gave it to Tanaya about being serious. “You could kill at Regionals, but you've got to work. You've got a lot of natural talent, but it's not enough. I meant it about no cigarettes, alcohol, or drugs during the season. Don't waste my time—it breaks my heart too much with an athlete like you.”

Tanaya nodded, but she crossed her fingers behind her back for me to see. I covered a giggle. At the same time I was totally agreeing with Coach. The way Tanaya was always playing around about everything got on my nerves, too.

I grinned, thinking how I could travel ahead to Regionals and see how Tanaya does. Then come back and tell her. If she does good, tell her it was because she finally got her butt in gear. If she screws up, tell her she could change it by doing what Coach said. Sometimes she seemed like she wanted so much to be good at track. Then other times it was like she couldn't see how she was messing things up for herself.

I shook my head. That was the kind of trip I couldn't do anymore. Tanaya would just have to find out what happened at Regionals in the same way everyone does, by living through regular time.