Regret List Read Online Free PDF

plot
ideas and possible characters, even including quick sketches of
them. I was immersed in the outline of a story about a girl whose
sister goes missing in a mysterious world controlled by the Night
Mare, an evil queen who controls everyone through their dreams,
when I realized Grace was trying to talk to me. “Mm?” I tore myself
away from the page.
    “Are you seriously doing homework already?” she asked
incredulously. “You don’t always have to be the brains of the
class, you know. Take a break.” I wondered for a second if that’s
how they all thought of me: the nerdy one, just like I had given
all of them titles and roles to play.
    “It’s not homework,” I said, trying not to act
defensive. Then, realizing how nerdy it would sound if I tried to
explain, I slid the notebook into my own book bag. “It’s nothing.
Just some notes.”
    “Whatever. Well, what do you think of Jason
Stromsen?” Sammy asked.
    “Who?” I was still only half-paying attention and
trying to remember what class I had after lunch.
    “He’s part of the group Sammy’s thinking about
hooking us up with,” Kandice yawned, texting on her phone.
    “You’re not texting that guy you got in trouble over,
are you?” Grace asked.
    Kandice glared at her. “None of your business. Hey,
are you gonna eat that?” It looked like Grace had barely touched
her lunch and she wordlessly handed it over to Kandice.
    “Jason’s pretty cute,” Sammy continued. “He’s in our
grade, dark hair, glasses. I have English with him and he seemed
pretty nerdy, like you.” I winced, but what could I say? Maybe he
was a good match for me. Not once did I think that this mysterious
Jason could be the same boy from biology. “Oh, and Robert told me
one of his parents died too.” Oh, God. What did I tell you? She
says all the worst things.
    A rush of emotions soared through me, starting in my
stomach. I didn’t know whether I was going to burst into tears or
slap her. In the end, I did neither. I laughed it off like it was
no big deal. Only someone with two healthy, living parents can
think it’s perfectly rational to match two people up based on their
dead-parent status. But I don’t know, maybe it was rational. Maybe
I’m the strange one.
    I had only ever told one person how I felt about my
dad: Asher. We were climbing around on a fallen log that was nearly
as tall as me and had been lying there for as long as I could
remember. I hauled myself up on the branches and knelt down,
yanking off chunks of the bark. Asher sat nearby, doing the same. I
saw lightning out of the corner of my eye and sat back against one
of the branches, watching the sky for a few minutes. I saw it flash
again, forking down in the distance. It was too far off to hear the
thunder and the rain hadn’t yet reached us, so I continued ripping
off the bark.
    “My dad’s going to transfer to a job in Portland,
four hours away,” Asher growled, crunching the bark up in his hands
and letting it fall to the ground in pieces.
    “You’re moving away?” I asked. I could feel his dark
mood however and knew it was more complicated than that. He had
been uncharacteristically angry all day, but it wasn’t until the
afternoon started to fade away that he finally explained.
    He shook his head and held up a wood louse. “Found
one.” He handed it to me and I let the little bug crawl across my
palm. We liked tearing up the poor bugs’ home to see what we could
find. Occasionally it meant finding a tick or two attached to our
arms and legs, but that was interesting in and of itself.
    “Why not?” I asked, watching the bug as it crawled up
my arm.
    “Not invited,” he replied.
    I looked up at him in surprise. “What do you mean,
you’re not invited? He’s your dad!”
    He glowered at me. “Don’t you think I know that? He’s
moving in with some skank. He doesn’t want us kids around.”
    “Wait, he’s leaving your mom?” I couldn’t believe it.
His mom was still the