Free No Regrets by Roxy Queen

said, pressing the cigarette between his lips and inhaling. "But, I had my reasons."
    "Care to share?"
    "Nope.”
    I can’t even begin to imagine how my life would have been altered if Tate had been into me in high school. No idea if it would have been better or worse but it sure as hell would have been different.
    “And now? What is this now?”
    “I know things got weird for us at the end of senior year. We were stupid, and Henry...”
    “Henry what?” I ask, heart drumming.
    A freshman walks by in an apron carrying a tray of Dixie cups.  “Hold up,” Tate says to the kid, scooping a handful. He gives me a couple and I peer inside.
    “Jell -o shots?”
    He raises his to mine in a toast and says, “Here’ s to summer, Pip. Growing up and taking risks.”
    I have no idea what he’s talking about but he looks pretty as hell when he says it. I squeeze the paper cup into my mouth and say through a mouthful of Jell -o, “To summer!”
     

Chapter Seven
    Things I remember from that night:
    Lime green Jell-o shots that match Tate’s eyes.
    Arguing with a guy dressed like Superman that he sucks because he isn’t an Avenger.
    Snuggling with Tate on the porch.
    I remember him smelling good. Like laundry and man-boy. I remember relaxing because his arms felt safe around me, until the swaying and swinging make my head spin and my stomach hurt.
    When I look for Tate for help, he’s gone. He gets a series of texts and wanders off, leaving me alone with a bunch of strangers including more than one girl giving me the stink-eye.
    “Bathroom?” I ask the crowd around me. It comes out a slurry mess. One girl points toward the house but I run in the opposite direction to the edge of the deck. Even tripping over my heel, I manage to make it in time, puking over the railing. The definitive splatter of liquefied Jell-o echoes off the concrete below.
    Oh no.
    *
    Things I don't remember from that night (but were relayed to me the next morning by Tricia):
    Being unable to find Tate at the party.
    Calling Henry to come pick me up.
    Threatening to kick a sorority girl dressed as Wonder Woman in the ass.
    Attempting to kick Wonder Woman in the ass and missing and face planting in the front yard of the party.
    Henry carrying me to the car.
    Henry pulling the car over so I could puke again and falling out of the still-moving car on my face.
    Asking Henry if he knew his eyes were as blue as raspberry Jell-O. (No, apparently he did not know this.)
    “You’re kidding,” I say to Tricia the next day. She’s sitting on my bed fighting to appear sympathetic.
    “Nope, I wish I was honey, but no.”
    “He dragged me home?” Poor Henry.
    “Carried.” She hands me two aspirin and a bottle of water.
    I lie back on my bed and cover my face with a pillow and moan, long and throaty. I want to scream but my throat hurts from puking. “What’s wrong with me?”
    “Nothing huge,” she says. “You just can’t handle your liquor.”
    I sigh. “It was the weed and the liquor. Deadly combination. Like last time.”
    Tricia frowns. “What last time?”
    I stare at my friend and roommate and realize I have to come clean. Like really come clean. “Is Josh here?”
    “He’s in his room.”
    Tricia hops up and bangs on his door. He comes out, hair sticking in a dozen directions, rubbing his eyes. “What?”
    She waves him into my room and he crawls in under the covers. His nose twitches and he makes a repulsed face. “What the hell is that smell?”
    “I got kind of sick last night. Sorry.” I shift over.
    “And your face!” He narrows his eyes. “Please don’t tell me that’s rug burn or something.”
    “She fell out of Henry’s car,” Tricia says. Traitor.
    “Henry? What about Tate?”
    I cut in. “Listen, I haven’t been completely honest with you guys.”
    They glance at one another and Josh slips his fingers through mine. “I didn’t leave school for the reasons I told you. I mean the size and classes mattered. The