REGRETS

TWO: SOMETIMES

547 DAYS BEFORE

"Well I can hardly stand, but I really don't care to know. And you can take my hand, but I don't care where we go..."

SONG: SOMETIMES
ARTIST: BEACH FOSSILS

Bonita

Moving has become part of my family tradition, it seemed. Graduate, move. Graduate, move. Graduate, move. At least in Mexico you graduated every year that you finished. In the United States it was different. In the United States, you didn't have to pay for high school the way you did back in Mexico. You pay for high school and go to university for free.

I stared at the front doors dismissively, wondering how long my mother would yell at me if I didn't show up to any of my classes. I sighed and took just one step forward. The door pushed open, startling me. He was laughing, pulling a cigarette from his ear as he did so. He stopped right before he crashed into me, biting down on his lip.

"You're new," He laughed and turned to the girl beside him. "Deals, did you know she was coming today?"

The blonde tilted her head to her side, almost as if she was confused by the question. I took a step back.

"Now that I think about it, I think I did know she was coming," She stepped closer to me and circled around me, arms crossed over her chest. "Bonita Gonzalez, right?"

"Correct," I was suddenly so insecure about my accent. They looked at each other as soon as I had spoken.

"Let me guess," The boy took a step closer to me. "You're the new exchange student?"

"No," I was getting annoyed now. I wanted to go inside and get away from them. I didn't want to be here with them anymore. "I'm just new."

He smiled again. "I'm Luke and that's Delia—or Deals, whatever works. We're supposed to be your tour guides."

I nodded slowly.

"Our tour starts in downtown," Delia made way toward the parking lot. "Not here. No good tour ever starts at a school."

"But I—"

"Come on, Bonita. We're going to show you the good parts of this town,"

______________

I kept waiting for a call from my mother that would scare me into going back to school, but it never came. Luke and Delia roamed around the town, picking out their favorite restaurants and just how they got to see movies for free.

"So," Luke pulled the cigarette from his mouth. "What brings you to our sad little town?"

He looked like he derailed everything in anyone's life.

"My mom's a heart surgeon and they don't pay enough in Mexico so she decided to come here," I looked away and ran my fingers through my hair. He stared at me as I did it, like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Your mom could have been a heart surgeon anywhere and she chose Oregon?" Delia circled back around, a joint between her fingers. "Does she suck or anything?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "No, she's amazing, but she's here on a visa."

They both raised an eyebrow at me. "You guys are immigrants?"

"I'm not. I was born here, but my parents took me to Mexico when I was really young," I was now completely annoyed. I don't know what made me agree to come with these people.

"Back to school, Deals. You know how Hertzog gets when we're not in class," Luke threw his cigarette and Delia handed me the joint.

"No thanks,"

______________

"Thank you for joining us today, Mr. Hemmings," Our English teacher muttered, pulling his glasses from his eyes. He had paused reading the poem in his hand, that much you could tell just by the way he greeted Luke.

"It's the new kid's fault, Paul," Luke grabbed my hand and pulled me forward, suspending my arm over my head. "Bonita Gonzalez, she's from here, but lived in Mexico most of her life and that's all the bio you're getting."

I stared blankly at the people staring stoically back at me. I wanted to shove Luke to the ground and stomp into the seats in the back. We stood there for only a few seconds before he let go of my arm and ushered me to the back toward the open seats I had been eyeing since I noticed them.

"Right, Bonita," The teacher stood straight, pulling the hand that was holding his glasses down to his side. "To give you a brief bio of myself, I'm a tough grader. And I don't think I have to baby any of you considering this is a college level course. I prefer being called Paul and whatever Mr. Hemmings says, he is not my favorite."

"I totally am," Luke mouthed, the wide grin returning to his face. I swallowed my saliva nervously. My palms started sweating.

Paul rolled his eyes. "I was just finishing reading The Sun Rising by John Donne. Do you know any Donne, Bonita?"

"This one is actually my favorite. I know it by heart," I managed, glancing at Luke who was watching me carefully.

"Do you mind? I'm on the last two lines," Paul made way down the aisle toward my seat. I looked over at Luke, swallowing nervously.

"Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere," Everything inside of me felt inflamed with the way he looked at me. He watched the way my mouth moved, my hands fidget. "This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere."

"Looks like you've found someone who likes classic poetry more than you, Mr. Hemmings," Paul grinned. It seemed like an action he rarely performed. "Thank you Miss Gonzalez."

"He calls the students he really likes by their last name," Delia mumbled, rolling her eyes. "Watch. Hey, Paul, is Donne going to be on the test."

"Yes, Delia. There is always Donne on the tests," Paul muttered and rolled his eyes. "And an essay."

I laughed quietly, leaning back in my seat. When I turned back to look at Luke, he wasn't looking at me anymore. He stared at his notebook, stare fixed.

Something was fusing.

"And if I happen to fall, then please don't pick me up cause we're enjoying our time..."