Of Love & Regret by S. H. Kolee Read Free Book Online Page B

rug, and I was
more than happy to oblige.
     
    I’m sorry too. I promise to keep my
bitchiness in check next time. What channel?
     
    Logan texted me
the channel that was airing Rear Window, and
I flicked on my television and turned to it. We were both big Hitchcock fans,
and Rear Window was one of my
favorite movies. I wasn’t surprised when moments later, my phone rang. Logan
and I had watched TV together more than a few times over the phone. I had never
really thought twice about it before, but now I realized that it was probably a
part of us being too dependent on each other. That realization didn’t stop me
from answering his call.
    He sounded tentative
at first, but soon we were both engrossed in the movie. We didn’t talk much
except to make a few comments about the film, but it was comforting to know
that he was on the other end of the line. I lay down on the couch and put my
phone next to me. I could hear the sounds of the movie echoing from his side,
and it made me feel closer to him.
    “Did you fall
asleep?” he asked when the credits started to roll.
    “No, I’m still
here.” Now that we no longer had the movie to talk about, I was struggling to
think of something to say.
    “Thanks for
watching the movie with me. I have some work that needs to get done, but I’ll
talk to you tomorrow, okay?” Logan sounded uncertain, which was uncharacteristic
of him. He seemed to move through life so confident and self-assured that it
was odd to hear him so tentative.
    “Sure,” I said,
keeping my tone light. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
    I felt oddly bereft
when he disconnected the call, but told myself I was being ridiculous. If I
didn’t want to lose Logan as a friend, I had better set some boundaries.
Otherwise, I had a bad feeling that our friendship would veer severely
off-track, never to be recovered. And not having Logan in my life was something
I didn’t want to consider.

Chapter Five
     
    I woke up with a
scream lodged in my throat and the cold fingers of a terrifying nightmare still
pulling at me. My clothes were soaked with sweat, and I gasped for breath. I
forced myself to focus on my surroundings, telling myself that it was nothing
but a dream. I took long, shuddering breaths, trying to slow my erratic pulse.
    Dawn was on the
brink of breaking, bathing my bedroom in an eerie, pale light. It had been a
while since I had dreamed about Cassie. I welcomed the dreams that were happy
memories of the past. I dreaded the ones that were nightmares about her death.
Unfortunately, I had woken up from the latter.
    I glanced at the clock
and saw that it was barely five o’clock in the morning. I lay in bed, staring
up at the ceiling, trying to blot out the visions that crowded my mind by focusing
on the good memories of Cassie. I remembered the first time I had seen her. I
had walked into the fifth-grade classroom, so nervous that I could’ve sworn my
knees were knocking together. As a painfully shy ten-year-old, there was
nothing more terrifying than having twenty sets of curious eyes studying me
while the teacher introduced me.
    I clearly
remembered focusing on Cassie in the crowd of students. It was hard not to
notice her because she stood out, even then. Her blonde hair was so shiny that
it practically gave her a halo and flowed down her back in golden waves. She
had a barrette clipped on each side, and I remembered wishing that my mousey brown
hair would cascade like hers. I immediately recognized her as one of the
special people. The type of person everybody flocked to and wanted to be
friends with.
    She had smiled at
me when I passed by her desk on my way to my designated seat in the back of the
classroom. I had looked at her blankly, confused by her friendliness, and then proceeded
to spend the rest of the morning mentally kicking myself for not smiling back.
I was naturally introverted and at an awkward stage, and I had been flummoxed
by her gesture of friendliness. I told myself that her smile