The Rules of Regret Read Free Page B

with
outdoor adventure camps, even less experience with teenagers. I think I ’ ll stick with buildings :)
    I
apologize for taking up your time. Thank you again for the reply.

 
    Sincerely,
    Darby

 
    I
shoved off from the desk with my palms and snatched my phone out of my purse,
eager to call Lance. We hadn ’ t
talked since last night, and I was beginning to go through withdrawals. But
since I ’ d
never done drugs, I could only assume the feelings I experienced were
withdrawal-like. When someone was a part of your life twenty-four hours a day,
seven days a week, even three days apart felt like an unwelcome eternity. We
hadn ’ t
been getting along much lately (and by lately I mean the past couple of years),
but I ’ d
come to realize that even arguing was better than silence. At least there was
interaction. At least there was emotion. As odd of a sensation as it was, and
as hard as it was to verbalize, I ’ d
actually been wishing for an argument recently, just to keep the lines of
communication open.
    When
my fingers fumbled onto my phone, there was a lengthy text already waiting for
me.

 
    Lance:
You ’ ll
never guess who I just had lunch with … Congressman
Stanley! You know it ’ s
been a dream of mine to rub shoulders with that guy! Invited a few of us from
the firm out for dinner this evening. Missing you like crazy, Babe. But I think
this break in our relationship is what we need. Have fun and enjoy yourself and
don ’ t
think twice about me.

 
    I ’ d already started tapping out a
reply, telling how proud I was of him and how exciting it must be to have a
chance encounter with his political idol, when my eyes fell upon those last two
sentences. Everything stopped. My key punching, my breathing. And apparently
our relationship. I wasn ’ t
planning on a hiatus, and wasn ’ t
sure I ’ d
be able to get through the next six weeks without “ thinking twice ” about him. In reality, I ’ d probably be in a constant state of
Lance pondering.
    My
email dinged from across the room and snapped my attention before I had a
chance to respond to Lance ’ s
text. Probably more spam. I wasn ’ t
sure what website I visited or what list I ’ d
mistakenly got myself on, but over half of my inbox was littered with promises
of male enhancement and deals on prescription drugs from Canada. I was about to
routinely press the delete button when I saw it was from the camp, instead.

 
    From:
T. Westbrook
    To:
Deborah Duncan
    Subject:
See you on the 12 th !

 
    Dear
Darby,
    You
are in luck! We have buildings at our camp! And since you already have the
perfect camp name (I was a little worried with Deborah, but Darby is right on),
you have two advantages over all of our other applicants who made no mention of
loving buildings, and who have boring, commonplace names like Ryan, Sarah and
Chris.
    We
look forward to receiving your completed application and meeting you at orientation
on the 12 th !
    Until
then,
    Torin

 
    I
blinked rapidly at the screen, like the fluttering of my eyelids could somehow
magically rearrange the words and letters into a way that made more sense than
their current configuration. What in the world was that? If the first email
felt contrived and manufactured, this last exchange was a total one-eighty,
like an entirely different person penned it.
    I
was pretty sure the intent of my original message was to decline the position,
yet this Torin seemed to have completely overlooked that. I was a little
annoyed that this last note demanded another response because I wanted to just
be done with this so I could start pounding the pavement, looking for a real summer job. I wasn ’ t sure why I ever thought summer camp
would work for me. McIversons didn ’ t
camp, and while I wasn ’ t
officially one, I was sure some of that had rubbed off on me by osmosis or
something.

 
    From:
Deborah Duncan
    To:
T. Westbrook
    Subject:
Again, no thank you

 
    Dear
Torin,
    I
appreciate the