Surviving Regret by Megan Smith Read Free Book Online

you aren’t worth the same air he breathes. Jay is not someone you ever want to double cross.
    Jay greets me with a nod, never meeting my eyes. Our greetings are minimal, less is always better, especially with him. “You got my stuff?”
    Jay reaches into his pocket and pulls out the dime bag. It’s only enough for one joint. I can’t risk being caught with more on school grounds.
    I slap the money in his hand and with my free one I take my weed. Jay and I give a curt nod and he’s off until he gets another text from me.
    I put the weed in the front pocket of my jeans and turn toward my truck. I drive over to the stadium parking in the farthest spot in the lot and cut the engine. Campus Police know my truck since this is my usual parking place so they leave me alone. It doesn’t take me long before I have the joint in my hand, taking the first drag, and hold it in my lungs for as long as I can. Once I feel the burning, I slowly let it out as smoke fills the cab of my truck. I reach over to turn up the radio, the beats of “Am I Wrong” by Nico & Vinz flow through the speakers. I laugh, the song title fitting the setting.
    Yeah, I am wrong but so fucking what. I feel like my whole fucking life I’ve been wrong.
    Reaching under the seat I pull out my bottle of whiskey. Unscrewing the top I put it to my lips and take a swig. The voices in my head quiet with every passing minute. Short lived, but I’ll take the solitude however the fuck I can get it.
    I don’t hear Alexa screaming, “Steven!”
    I don’t hear Macy saying, “Did you have sex with my sister?”
    And I don’t hear Cash saying. “We will never be bros again.”
    At least I won’t hear these things until tomorrow compliments of this bottle and this joint.
     
    As I sit there with my head against the seat, I think of Macy. It’s where I should be right now instead of here, trying to numb pain that’s overwhelming me. I miss my girl. Well, she’s not really my girl. I’m not sure what we are anymore and most days I don’t care. That’s not really true but fuck that girl deserves so much better than me. I think that’s why I almost fucked Madison that night at prom. Madison is different in everything else but she looks like Macy. Madison doesn’t make me try to feel anything like Macy does. Madison and I share the same blame for that night and Macy doesn’t understand that. She can’t relate to what it feels like to kill your best friend. I shouldn’t have been hanging out of the sunroof, I shouldn’t have been smoking and drinking and carrying on. I wouldn’t have caused Steven to crash.
    “Goodies” byCiara comes on the radio and the rush of memories hits me right in the fucking stomach and I’m tossed back to the night of senior prom.
     
    Why am I here? I don’t belong here.
    Those people made me feel sick. I looked at them. Nothing fazed them. I hated how everyone was so happy and content with their lives. You know those dirty houses with the shingles all messed up on the roofs, gutters dangling, barely hanging on, where some punk kids threw rocks at the windows until they cracked, and the summer grass up to your knees? While just down the street are those flawless houses with the perfectly landscaped yards, freshly painted fences and expensive cars parked in the driveways? I was that roof on the forgotten house down the street. I was those broken shingles. I was that cracked window. I was that puddle that formed from the gutter hanging from the house. I was drowning, while she was that beautiful rose blooming in the rose garden down the street.
    Macy’s eyes went wide when it dawned on her. It’s the song that was playing on the radio that night. I held her close to me in that moment when really I wanted to get the fuck out of here. All I heard was Alexa screaming and Macy and Madison crying hysterically. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Madison run from the room. I looked around. Cash was talking with Coach Mitchel. He either