Page 95 of Into the Dark, We Go
"Probably the same thing that happened to your boyfriend," Nick replied bluntly.
I gave up on trying to make conversation and turned away to look out of the window. I was sick of everyone being mad at me. Was I really such a screw-up? And if he was so upset, why had he tagged along at all?
My phone buzzed, and I jumped at the chance to distract myself. I’d talk to a telemarketer at this point, just to avoid the awkwardness with Nick. But when I saw my Mom’s name on the screen, I hesitated before answering.
"You on your way?" her voice came through without a preamble.
"I am."
"What time are you getting in?"
"Around five?" I guessed. "I don’t know. Depends on the traffic."
I had nowhere to go except my Mom’s, which had been the plan all along. I could clear my head and figure out what to do next with my life. After this emotional rollercoaster, her place didn’t seem like such a bad idea. At least with her, I knew what to expect. Stifling as it was, it felt almost comforting.
"Okay, just try to get in by five," she commanded with a note of skepticism, like she didn’t believe I was actually on my way.
"What’s the rush?" I asked, annoyed.
"I’m going to a birthday party. Diane’s."
I had no idea who Diane was, so I guessed, "From work?"
"That’s her. She’s turning sixty."
"I have keys, so I can just let myself in if you need to leave."
"I want to be there to meet you," she insisted.
"I’ll do my best, Mom. You’re paying the speeding tickets, right?"
"It’s not funny. Drive carefully."
"Sure thing. Hurry up but slow down," I quipped, trying to lighten the mood.
It was the wrong move. Mom hated my jokes, just like she hated Dad’s. I had learned early that humor was my lifeline with her, a shield against the criticism she never seemed to run out of. If she insisted on treating me like a child, then that was fine. I would play the part.
"Your mom?" Nick asked after I hung up.
"Yeah, just checking in on me."
"That’s good of her."
I bit my lip, tempted to tell him that my mom’s niceness could be suffocating at times, but this wasn’t the conversation I wanted to have with him right now. Instead, I gave a faint, noncommittal hum. Then, summoning all the courage I had in me, I broached the subject that had been weighing heavily on my mind.
"Hey, about before," I began tentatively. "Not that it matters to you now, but I just panicked. I never had any regrets about us. It was just... a wrong-place, wrong-time kind of situation."
I winced inwardly at how cheesy and lame it sounded, but I had to say something. It was time to start fixing things after ruining them for so long.
Nick threw a glance at me, then looked back at the road. "It’s okay. But thanks for saying that."
"Did you?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
He wavered briefly before shaking his head. "Did I what?"
"Did you have any regrets?"
Nick’s response was immediate. "No, of course not."
