Mistakes and Regrets

There's one thing that all of the guys have known for as long as they've known me. Don't wake me up. If you do, well, then something must be pretty damn important, or you end up with an enraged Shay. Anything worth waking me up for is worth getting your eyes clawed out when you wake me up.

Which is exactly why when my phone started buzzing on the air mattress beside me, I knew something was wrong.

I groped around, yawning as I clicked the talk button. The light from the screen forced my eyes closed, which really inconvenienced my search for Kennedy's digital clock.

"Hello?" I mumbled against my pillow, working up the bravery to open my eyes.

I did; it was 3:39.

"Shay, look, I'm really sorry I woke you up, I know you hate it when I do that," John's rough voice rambled on the other end.

I shot straight up, and quickly checked to make sure Kenny was still sleeping. He was; his soft snores were floating through the night air. I carefully sat up and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door softly behind me.

"Slow down John. It's fine, I swear. But are you?" Concern flooded my voice as I padded through the hallway. The whole apartment was quiet, which was a rarity in itself.

"I dunno, Shay. Rose and I...we...and now she.." he stuttered, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I could hear his voice cracking, and the whole thing was breaking my heart.

"John, where are you?" I asked calmly, grabbing my car keys from the kitchen counter.

I gave myself a once over; my cotton shorts and over sized sweatshirt would work. I looked around for my shoes, but couldn't find them. Instead, I grabbed Kennedy's. He would get over it.

"I'm at our...my place."

"I'll be right there John, okay? Don't move a muscle, don't even blink. I'll be there before you know it," I assured him. He agreed, and I rushed to my car and across town, praying for once in my life I wouldn't get ticketed.



I barely had the car parked before I was running through the lobby of John's apartment building and up to the fourth floor. The elevator ride alone nearly drove me insane.

I counted doors until I finally reached 18D, and didn't bother knocking. The door knob twisted with ease beneath my grip. I looked hopelessly around the living room and kitchen, but there was no sight of John. I shut the door carefully behind me, venturing through the hall and into John and Rosalie's room.

I let out a sigh of relief to see his lanky figure sitting on the edge of the bed. His head was buried in his hands, and I could see his scrawny shoulders shaking a bit. I knocked lightly, but he made no attempt to move.

"John," I breathed out, quickly closing the space between us. Things were in a disarray, and I could immediately tell that Rose's stuff wasn't there anymore.

I knelt down beside him, grabbing his hands. Slowly, he looked up at me with lost olive eyes rimmed in red, and my heart crumbled in my chest. I gave him a reassuring smile, squeezing his hands lightly.

"You didn't have to come over," he protested. I smirked a bit, smoothing his hair away from his face.

"Yeah, I did. It's what we do." The corner of his lip twitched a bit, and he shook his head, looking away from me.

"Rose is gone," he admitted, biting his lip and staring out the window. I saw the twinkling stars and immediately knew what he was searching for; I'd tried the same thing countless nights.

"I know," I said quietly.

His gaze snapped back to me, and the air gushed from my lungs. I could see the million questions in his eyes, and I wasn't sure how to answer them yet. So, I stood up, pulling him with me.

"I'll make you some tea, and we'll talk."

He followed me without any objections as I strolled towards the kitchen. He sat at the island, watching me as I rummaged his cupboards for the tea kettle. When I turned to face him, finally flustered, he was watching me with an amused grin.

"Having issues?" he asked nonchalantly. I faux-glared at him, blowing my bangs out of my face.

"Where's the damn kettle? I swear, this was so much easier when you still lived with your parents. I mean, Ross and Shane didn't even know what a kettle looked like, so they couldn't move it on me, and Jenny always left it in the same spot," I grumbled.

"But watching this get under your skin is so much more fun," he teased. I put my hands on my hips, and he pointed. "It's in that cabinet, top shelf."

"Of course it is." I hopped up on the granite counter top, and sure enough, there was the gleaming black pot. I slid back to the floor, and began filling it in the faucet.

Once I put it on the stove, I turned to John, resting my elbows on the table. "So, what happened?"

"I went to talk to Rose, but you know that," he picked at something on the counter, watching it instead of me. "God, I'm a fucking idiot. She cheated on me! She was fucking some other guy, while she had my ring on her finger! And I didn't have the slightest clue!

"She just owned up to it and everything, and asked me if I could forgive her, or if I just needed some time to cool off. She even asked if I wanted to meet him. Can you believe her? I told her the wedding was off, and that she needed to get her shit and get the hell out. She just nodded, and handed me the ring back."

His whole face was devastated. I didn't know what to say to him, so I nodded, reaching out to stroke his arm.

"I knew she wasn't good for me, dammit, and I should have listened to all of you, but of course, I didn't."

"Of course not. You're stubborn, and strong-headed, and once you set your mind on it, you were going to see it through," I told him, and he looked up at me, his mouth open.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. I smiled, ruffling his disheveled hair a bit.

"John, it's one of the things we love about you. You wouldn't be John otherwise," I explained.

He looked deep in thought, and I turned my back to grab some mugs. The kettle started to howl, and I quickly pulled it off, pouring hot water into the mismatched ceramic cups.

I let John think in silence as I made the tea, and by the time I was done, his eyes were on me once more. I set the cup in front of him, wisps of steam rolling off of the top. He grabbed it and we made our way to the couch, with one of us at each end.

"Do you wanna talk about it anymore? Say awful things about her, convince me to help you egg her car?" I asked, taking a cautious sip of the green liquid. John chuckled, and the weight on my heart let up just a little.

"Nah, I think I'm good. Once you're gone, maybe I'll write an awful song or something," he offered, and I beamed up at him.

"It'll be amazing. I'm really proud of how you're handling this," I said softly.

It was quiet for a while as we sipped at our tea, neither quite knowing what to say. This was the first time I'd been alone with him, really alone, in over a year. I think he knew it, too. There were so many unsaid words and uncertainties floating around us, but I just felt calm for once in my life.

"Shay?" he asked timidly, setting his mug on the coffee table. I followed suit, swinging my leg down, my toes scraping lightly against the carpet.

"Hm?"

He hesitated, and I tilted my head, urging him to go on. Looking back, I almost regret it.

Almost.

In an instance, his lips were against mine. I was frozen in shock as his long fingers caressed my cheek. This was something I'd wanted so bad for so long, and suddenly it was happening.

My hands unwillingly tangled in his tawny hair as he hovered over me, my mind exploding. It was so much more than I'd ever imagined, his lips moving against my own. My thoughts were screaming at me, and my heart was thudding erratically. I don't know how long passed before I tore my hands away and placed them on his chest. I pulled away slightly, my eyes still shut.

"John, we can't do this," I whispered, pushing him away lightly. "I can't just be your rebound girl."

"Shay, you could never be just my rebound girl," he reasoned, his face still just inches from mine. I shook my head, scooting farther against the armrest.

"I am, John. If I don't stop you, that's what I'll become."

"Shay-"

"John, I can't." I cried, propelling myself up. He followed me, his eyes hurt.

"Why?" I chuckled darkly.

"What's my name John?" I shot out, and he looked at me like I was crazy.

"Shayla Royce," he answered automatically. I rolled my eyes, shoving my bangs out of my face.

"Daisy. Daisy Shayla Royce." Confusion colored his face, and I just continued on my rampage. "Why did I go to New York when I left?"

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Do you know?"

"No."

"New York is where my parents met. It's where they fell in love, and they always told me about it," I could feel the tears building in my eyes. "It's where they were going when they died. They promised me one day we'd all go together, and we never did. They died in that stupid crash, and then everything was just gone."

He reached out to me, but I jerked my arm away.

"Do you know why I even left Tempe, John?" I asked finally, my voice low. His eyes were trained on me carefully. We both knew this was a low blow. I was so past caring, though, and it was time for him to try it out.

"Why?" he croaked out, tugging at his hair. I bit my lip and looked directly in his eyes. His beautiful, tortured eyes.

"I left because I've been in love with you since the day we met. Hell, I've known it, Kennedy's known it, the whole fucking world's known it, except you. And I sat there while you proposed a girl who could only break your heart, and dammit John, I couldn't watch anymore! I snapped, and I left, and I planned on never coming back. I can see now, I shouldn't have."

I stormed away from him, closer to the door. My hand was on the brass knob when his shaking voice called out to me.

"Why did you?" he asked in a grainy, strained voice. I turned my head slowly, clutching the knob harder.

"Why did I what?"

"Why did you come back?"

We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. My feet were frozen to the ground by his gaze, and he just stood there, unmoving, watching me. Everything that had been building since I got home was there, out in the open. Everything was spilling out, and I had to stop the flood, no matter how little I could salvage.

I thrust the door open and walked out, the question still hanging in the air, unanswered.