No Regrets Read Free Page B

like that.
    OK, I needed to keep myself on track here. Keep writing about how I wanted to use the time travel.
    Go back just to see Marquis. That was pretty dumb—I could always just remember last summer. I had replayed the best parts in my head so much, though, and stuff was fading. If I went back, I could see for real every time we’d made out, every time he’d told me he loved me—just like a movie. That would just be … nice. Even though it would make me sad again. I could do better than that.
    See if I’m with Marquis in the future. Again, the stupid one-year rule. Next year would just be like this year—more high school. Maybe we’d be in touch, though. Maybe we’d be planning for me to come live with him or him to come live with me while I went to college. That’s what I kept hoping.
    But when Marquis asked me and I said, “I have to finish high school,” he never said, “It’s OK. I get it that you need to finish high school and go to college because no one’s giving you casino money every year and you don’t want to end up like your parents. I love you so much, baby, that I’ll go anywhere, anytime you want, just so we can be together.”
    He just said, “Will you come back with me? I can take care of you.” And when I finally said no, he didn’t say anything else.
    But maybe it all works out. Maybe he misses me and starts to understand why I had to say no. And he remembers I said, “Call me,” when I left because I was trying to tell him I wasn’t saying no forever. Maybe if I went even a month into the future, I’d see myself with him.
    Or I could go back and change things so Marquis would say he’s cool with waiting. He would agree to stay in touch. He could come visit—he has plenty of money! He could get a hotel, and I’d stay with him. Tell my parents I was sleeping over at Tanaya’s. Or tell them the truth, whatever.
    A hotel room with a Jacuzzi and a big bed. And finally we could do whatever we wanted without being outside or in his car or getting interrupted or always thinking someone was about to come home.
    Why hadn’t we done that in Chicago? Instead of Marquis sleeping on his cousin’s couch and me bouncing between my grandma’s and my aunt’s and my old best friend’s house. Always feeling frustrated that his cousin was addicted to sitting on the couch playing Xbox. Always wishing my Chicago people weren’t wanting to hang out with me so much. Always feeling kind of embarrassed when we got into it while on the L and someone yelled, “Get a room!” We should have.
    I knew two years was a long time to ask someone to wait. But wasn’t that what you did when you were in love?

chapter nine
    I ripped the page out of the notebook, folded it up, and stuck it in my underwear drawer. I was too tired to think anymore, and I wanted to hold onto the good feeling that I had finally got an idea that might make everything better.
    I got ready for bed, keeping my mind focused on that hotel room. A treat to think about once I was in bed. Pajamas, hair, parents. I turned on my music and turned off the light. Then I lay in bed, going through stuff on my phone that I had missed.
    Lots of messages from Tanaya—she must have been bored.
    Why you miss practice?
    What?! I had just completely spaced it. Been so busy thinking that I’d just automatically gone home. What was wrong with me?
    She’d also asked again about prom and sent me a picture (again) of the guy she thought I should ask.
    You don’t wanna miss out on this!
    I put the phone under my pillow. I wanted to think about Marquis. Not just in the past, now, but how, if things went right, I could see him soon. I tried to remember how it felt to have his arms around me. What he smelled like. How his skin felt.
    See, it had been, like, eight months since I’d seen or talked to Marquis, and in that picture