Regret

       What I regret the most? Well a girl, of course. The last time I saw her was three years ago. I was part of a play, at a boarding school I attended at the time. The play focused on the life of a priest who lived during the reign of Hitler,running around France helping people but ends up getting killed. Anyway, This girl, a childhood friend of mine, was a Student of a catholic school invited to watch the performance. You could put two and two together.

One thing I couldn't have anticipated as a seminarian was to have some catholic schoolgirl running up to you and hugging you after the tiring performance. I only realized who she was when she pulled away enough for me to get a glimpse of her face. My childhood friend standing there in front of me, arms wrapped around me as sweat trickled from my face, mixing with all the make up the stylists put on me.

"Hey Maisie, it's been forever. I see you still like hugging people a lot." I was still wearing my costume from the play- slacks and a buttoned shirt and suspenders, crudely splotched with red paint to appear as if I've been shot. 

"Cho, oh goodness, I'm so sorry, did I startle you?" She put her hands over her mouth and started jumping around. "Wow you were great on stage! I mean you stuttered a little and fell but seeing you up there as the old guy who gets shot made me smile!"

I took a long look at her, speechless. Thoughts filled my brain and I spoke in my mind before responding to her. She still has the cutest nose in the world, and her cheeks are as puffy as ever. She has a bob cut now as well, and she's still skinnier than me, how can someone be skinnier than me and still pull off looking good?

Maisie stopped moving about for a moment and put her hands over her mouth again. "Oh goodness I didn't mean seeing you get shot made me smile!" She said, looking concerned and worried that I might have been offended.

Standing a head taller than her, I grabbed her head and grinned widely. "Oh yeah, then why'd you smile?"

Maisie grabbed my arm and wrapped her arms around it, pulling it away from her head. "Well, I smiled because I missed you, silly." 

I almost said something rather witty, but then I caught sight of one of the priests speaking into the megaphone. "All seminarians report to the mess for debriefing. Cleaners stay here and work on the stage I want it spotless!" He went on yelling and Maisie pulled me closer to her. 

I looked down to Maisie and grinned that big brother- like grin of mine. I had a few seconds to talk to her before any of the officers dragged me to the mess. I stared into her big, green eyes. They always drew me into what seemed like space, those eyes of hers, and always led me into this deep thinking state. What could we be? I suddenly thought out of the blue. I was having these thoughts about a childhood friend and I didn't know exactly what to think.

But then I did know what to say, didn't I? I realized that I had these feelings for her because in the short time we've that I've been given, I've seen so much of her that I didn't see before, because I was blind. Now my eyes were open, and she was finally by my side again. 

"Cho? You have to go so soon?" Maisie stared right back at me. 

I almost said it, but this is a point when the nature of a guy like me takes over, giving rise to action that may make me regret these words forever. 

I imagined saying "Maisie I've known you for a long time, but now I feel different. I feel like I want to be with you and experience life with you. I like you, ."

But different words escaped my mouth. "Maisie it was nice seeing you, but I got to go." 

"Okay Cho, great performance!" She smiled that smile, turned and walked away from me, towards her friends, never to be seen by me again.

Later that night, I sat at the top of the old bell tower, overlooking the stage and the grounds, littered with flyers and food wrappers left by the visiting students. 

"Wouldn't hurt if those outsiders learned to throw them in the bin wouldn't it?" I turned to face an upper classman, Jean Stocke. Now Stocke was someone who was somehow always behind you to say something casual, then go about how you need to inspire yourself like he knew you just failed to confess your feelings to a childhood friend of yours who has no clue what the touch barrier is.

"I believe it wouldn't." I replied and braced for the inspiration speech that I have somehow already memorized, by heart, but my ears were greeted with something out of routine.

"That girl was Maisie Roche, correct?" 

My eyes were wide as I gave him a startled look. "How'd you know?"

"I know people who know people." Stocke winked. "Anyhow, a certain somebody spilled the beans on your close friendship with her." 

"Wilkins? Or Carter? I swear those guys are the worst friends I could ask for. You better tell me which one and I'll show them just how friendly I could be."

He laughed and sat down next to me. "I believe in client confidentiality. Anyhow, friendships like that don't come often in one life. You should be grateful you had it."

I looked down and replied. "Yeah but I didn't get to ask her out. I really wanted to."

Stocke patted me on the back. "Well with a face like that, who wouldn't want who ask her out. The lads at the mess even had a good chat about her bottom, and compared it to a bunch of Brent girls bottoms." 

We both chuckled, soft enough so as not to wake up anyone or bother any of the rumored ghosts in the tower. 

"Well, you'll live longer than a few months after this, Redford, you old bastard. Life's naturally short, but for love, it ain't. You'll see her again, I'm sure, but I reckon you wouldn't feel the same way about her anymore."

I replied as he stood up. "And what If I still like her then?"

He walked to the stairs before answering: "Well then you'd be a moron. But seeing that you beat me and Wilkins at chess, you're not. You'll move on." He then disappeared down the staircase and I was left alone in the belltower with the ghosts.

"We'll see then."