Mistakes and Regrets

“Kenny, I’m begging you, don’t make me do this,” I mumbled, my voice shaking. I sat on my makeshift bed in the corner of his room, my back stiff against the cool wall.

I could feel the tears burning the back of my eyes, and I could feel my throat closing painfully as I tried to choke back hysterics. Kennedy didn’t look at me as he pulled on a plain black v-neck. I fiddled with my thumbs, avoiding his eye contact. I didn’t want him to think of me as pathetic, but I just couldn’t do this.

Not now.

“C’mon Shay, please? I mean, I didn’t get to see or talk to you for months. I’m not ready to let you out of my sight yet.”

I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks as I realized what he was getting at. He was afraid I was gonna run again. I hung my head, struggling with a mix of embarrassment, and the sudden desire to do sprint away again.

“But Kenny,” I protested weakly, my convictions slipping with each syllable he uttered. He finally turned his gaze on me, his eyes warm and pleading.

“And I mean the guys feel the same way. Just because John fucked up doesn’t mean the rest of us should suffer.”

“Kennedy…”

“And it’s not like he’s not completely stupid. I mean, if he says a damn word, I’ll punch his lights out. I’m sure the others will help. Just please, Shay. It’ll only be an hour or two at most.”

“Okay,” I sighed, nibbling on my bottom lip.

Kennedy closed the few feet over to my air mattress and wrapped his strong arms around me. I forced the tears away and found some sort of manufactured smile. He deserved the better side of me. They all did.

“I promise, after practice, I’ll take you out for ice cream.”

I stifled a laugh, sniffling a bit.

“Mint chocolate chip?” I asked hopefully, and he chuckled, smoothing my hair away from my face.

“Sure, Shay,” he smiled, and I could feel him letting out a sigh of relief. God, I missed him.

“But it has to be waffle cones,” I added suddenly. He took my hand to help me stand, and I pulled my hair into a messy pony tail.

“Oh really?” he prodded, a chuckle in his voice.

“Well, duh. Waffle cones are the only way to go,” I told him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. I searched the closet for my shoes. Kennedy leaned against the doorway, watching me with an amused grin.

“Then I’ll get you a waffle cone. As long as it means I get to see your beautiful face in a room full of those dorks.”

“They aren’t so bad,” I laughed, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we walked into the hallway and toward the door to the apartment.

“Yeah,” Jared piped up, walking out of his room and following us. “We’re not so bad.”
Kennedy rolled his eyes as Jared flanked my other side. We barely squeezed through the lobby door. It was a miracle, really.

“Where are you guys practicing nowadays anyway?” I asked, sliding into shotgun before Jared could object. He gave me a dirty look as he piled into the back of Kenny’s SUV.

“Actually, we have a performance in town later tonight, so we’re practicing there. A warm up type deal,” Jared said, and my eyes widened a bit as I looked at Kennedy.

“You promised me ice cream,” I accused, crossing my arms over my chest. Jared chuckled a bit, catching on quickly.

Kennedy scoffed, buckling his seatbelt and starting the engine. “I’m getting you ice cream when we’re done rehearsing, and then I was gonna come back before the show started.”

“Sure, sure,” I said doubtfully, and Jared just watched from the back.

“I was actually hoping that you would stay for the show. At least part of it. You haven’t been to one in almost a year,” he explained, and I felt my throat tighten automatically.

“One year, one month, three days,” I said without thinking about it. Kennedy watched me from the corner of his eye while Jared’s jaw went slack in the back seat.

“How do you—“

“It was the night John met Rosalie,” I said shortly, locking my jaw and setting my eyes out the window. Neither of them said a word the rest of the way to the bar. I was thankful they just let it drop.



“We’re here, Shay,” Jared said softly.

The sleek black vehicle had stopped any motion, and the only noise was the boys unbuckling their seatbelts. I nodded, slipping out of the car without a single word. Kennedy caught up to me quickly, his arm draping around me for comfort. I snuggled into him, cherishing the heat radiating from him and the smell of his cologne.

“Hey, look who it is!” Garrett called from the stage as we entered the banquet hall of the bar. He winked at me, but I just watched my feet. His grin crumbled as I wouldn’t meet his eye, and I saw Pat sprinting toward us.

“Shayla-Bayla,” he sang, kissing my cheek before Jared interrupted.

“Pat, why don’t you show me where Tim is?” he suggested, grabbing his arm.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” I assured him, my plastic smile quickly finding a spot on my lips.

“I think he said he was going this way…” Pat murmured, leading Jared aimlessly.

Garrett pretended he wasn’t watching or listening as Kennedy placed a hand on each of my shoulders, looking directly into my eyes. Or I should say, trying to look into my eyes. I was perfectly content with watching the worn hardwood floor.

But Kennedy wasn’t having any of that.

“Shay, c’mon. Talk to me,” he begged gently, his voice tugging at the words, and at my heartstrings.

My eyes watered as I looked up at him, pushing a smile. “I’m okay, Kennedy, I swear.”

“Shay…” he warned, raising an eyebrow. I rolled my big brown eyes at him, placing my hands on either side of his face. His facial hair tickled my palms, and a real smile escaped.

“Kennedy, I’m fine. You can’t keep worrying about me, especially when you’re on stage. I wouldn’t want you to suck,” I teased, trying to change the subject.

“We will talk about this,” he vowed, and I waved him off, releasing my grip on his cheeks and letting my arm slide around his waist.

“Sure, sure.”

“Shay—“he started, winding his arm around my shoulder.

“Cute,” a familiar voice grumbled, and as I looked up, I was met with the back of John’s head as he stormed toward the stage. I bit my lip, but Kennedy shook his head, pulling me toward the bar.

He ordered before I could object, and before I knew it, an ice cold bottle of beer was in my hand. He had his own water bottle, and didn’t say a word as we returned to the stage.

“So Shay, I haven’t seen your face in a crowd in quite some time,” Garrett said, sitting on the edge of the stage. I sat next to him, giving a small shrug as I took a swig. I winced as the sour liquid burned down my throat, but took another pull.

“I guess,” I said finally.

John was sitting on an amp on the stage, his blackberry out as his fingers swept across the keypad. From the corner of my eye, though, I saw him sneaking looks at us, not so secretly eavesdropping.

Typical.

“Wait, Jared,” Pat’s voice boomed through the hall. “You didn’t tell me Shayla was gonna watch us!”

He ran toward me, knocking me backward on the stage with the force of his hug. I pushed him off of me through my giggles, thanking god that none of my beer had spilled.

“Patty, you can’t just do that,” I scolded through laughter, patting the spot next to me. I saw another familiar face and grinned.

“Hey Timmy,” I called.

Their manager groaned, but strolled forward nonetheless, giving me a semi awkward hug.
“Long time no see Shay. I’m glad you’re back,” he said softly.

“Thanks, Tim. I think I may be too,” I said slowly. He gave me a curious look, and I saw all the guys conspicuously doing the same.

“Shay, what do you—“

“Good, everyone’s here. Thank you again for doing this so short notice,” a nice looking middle aged man said, popping out of nowhere. His salt-and-pepper hair was messy, and his T-shirt and jeans were slightly wrinkled. A bar rag hung from his belt loop, and I vaguely recognized him to be the owner.

“No problem Joe, you know you’re family,” Tim responded cheerily, shaking the man’s hand.

“Either way, I’m grateful. People will start showing up around six, so if you guys wanna warm up without people swarming you, you best start now,” Joe advised.

Saved by the bell. Or, well, Joe.

“Okay guys, get situated. Shayla, you can sit at the tables near the back, or pull up a chair. Whatever,” Tim said reluctantly. I could see all the guys were itching to know what I had meant. I could assure you though, by the end of the night, none of them would remember.

“I think I’ll just chill on the floor, if that’s okay,” I said softly, gripping the neck of my bottle a bit tighter. Tim laughed, shaking his head at me.

“Go right ahead. I’ll be talking to Joe in the back.”

I gave him a thumb up, and sat cross legged on the floor, one hand balancing behind me, the other securely around my beer. The boys fumbled around for a few minutes before I heard John’s raspy voice counting down. My heart fluttered in my chest, and briefly, his eyes caught mine.

The bass echoed through my veins, and the music pierced my soul. John’s lyrics had me breathless, and I couldn’t bring myself to look away from his olive eyes. It was as if nothing and everything had changed in the past year. I was completely transfixed by the melody and sound. It was like the first time I heard them play all over again.

It was also all the reasons that I had left, speeding at me full force. Something about the ache in John’s voice and the look in his eyes reminded me of all of the reasons I had fallen for him all those years ago. It was getting harder and harder to keep my focus with my head spinning and my heart pounding.

It was going to be a long night. I was screwed.