No Regrets by Elizabeth Karre Page B

like her old self.”
    I got goose bumps.
    â€œAnyway, I love watching it every time. I always cry,” Cherry said, settling back.
    I was kind of confused since we were just seeing the end, but, oh, Cherry was right. I started crying when someone told the girl not to go back to an important day but instead pick a regular day because it would be important enough. I didn’t want anyone to notice me crying, so I sat very still and let the tears roll down my neck or drip on my shirt.
    But I got so bad toward the very end. The dead girl asks this guy if anyone pays attention to life while they’re living it. And he just says, “Nope.” Snot was pooling in my nose, and I couldn’t even breathe right.
    Cherry handed me a tissue package without looking at me and pointed at Tanaya. I saw she was crying, too. That’s when I knew for sure that I had to stay now, not always be looking back or forward. Now was really all I had.

chapter twenty-six
    â€œI’m done,” I told him.
    â€œThat’s right,” he said. “That’s what I came to tell you. Sometimes I give people longer with their gift, but, man, girl—” he shook his head.
    â€œNo,” I said. “ I’m telling you —I’m done.”
    â€œOK,” he said. “You’re done.”
    We were both quiet.
    â€œBut I still don’t know what to do,” I said. “What could you do right now?” he asked. “Really?”
    â€œI could call Marquis …”
    â€œIs that what you want?”
    I looked away. “That other guy … I don’t know how to make that happen. Or if I messed it all up already. And don’t tell me to trust God or you or something.”
    He laughed. “Put me on the same level with God again, please. I like that.”
    I ignored him. “And I still don’t know if I even did the right thing last summer.”
    He came around to the front of the teacher’s desk and sat on the edge. “You can only do what’s in front of you right now,” he said gently. “That’s all anyone can do, Layla.”
    I just ran my fingernail through the initials carved on the desk.
    â€œC’mere,” he said, holding his arms out. Then I was leaning against him and he was giving me a hug. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered, rubbing my back.
    Over his shoulder I stared at that stupid kitten poster. HANG IN THERE. I closed my eyes.

About the Author
    Elizabeth Karre is a writer and editor. She lives in St. Paul, Minnesota.