For Them | 18+

Chapter 1

Delilah O'Connor

I've regretted a lot in my 20 years of life. Many are simply embarrassing moments that haunt me while I lie awake at night unable to turn my mind off, while others are more worthy of bearing the brunt of shameful finger-pointing when it comes to the roots of my childhood trauma.

I still cringe thinking back at how much I trusted that flimsy triangle bikini top at that stupid highschool pool party. My friends had convinced me that it was the only way to gain popularity, and it was, just not in the way one would hope.

I regret every thought of mine that led to the foolish decision to let Ashton Bailey kiss me at my 15th birthday ball. That ended with me being scolded for my "unladylike behaviour" and subsequent efforts to ensure such an embarrassing and crude display would never reach my mother's eyes again.

But one of the things I regret most, and I can say this with the utmost confidence, is the fact that I never learned how to say no. From an early age, I have always looked for approval from everyone around me. It starts with my parents, as everything does. My father was always so caught up in his heroic, life-saving research that he neglected to give childhood-me, and even current-me the time of day. My mother, on the other hand, was the opposite. She cared a little too much about my day-to-day activities, to the point of micro-managing every part of my life. Always subtly implying that nothing less than perfection is acceptable, so I spent a lot of my time as a kid focused on avoiding imperfection. Though even with two extremely successful parents, I think I might have missed the genes that make me a natural genius, unlucky for me.

And now, after working my butt off to land myself at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, I regret my childhood for the sole reason that if I'd had normal parents with normal expectations, I wouldn't be stuck tutoring chemistry on a gloomy Wednesday afternoon.

Not only is this situation disastrous in that I could instead be studying for my own upcoming midterms, but also because everytime this guy's light blue eyes look up at me, I get a shock of panic straight to my heart, freezing in my seat, because I'm thinking "oh no, I'm going to have to find an intelligent enough reply to whatever is going to come out of this guy's mouth".

So screw my parents for fudging up my childhood so bad that I just had to say yes when my chemistry professor suggested that I tutor a struggling classmate so that he doesn't think lowly of me or think I'm selfish. Even moving out hasn't spared me from the effects of my mother and father's lackluster parenting styles, and frankly, I'm quite annoyed by this fact.

"So um, what do I do next?" Liam asks, interrupting my train of thought.

I jerk my eyes back up from my mint hot chocolate nestled in my hands for warmth, take a deep breath to release the nerves, and lean over to look at his progress on the homework question. It's a question I'd completed earlier this week, and luckily I remember exactly how to do it.

I took my time explaining the steps, making sure that he understood, before letting my eyes wander around the coffee shop as he dives his head back into his textbook. I had only been here a couple of times before today, and I never took notice of just how many plants are in here. There's at least three ferns that I can see from my seat, and vines draped across thin bookshelves lining the walls. The calming smell of rain and fog flood my senses each time the entrance door opens, and I find myself taking a deep breath, wanting to savour the feeling.

I've always loved rainy days, ever since I was a kid. As I sit in my seat with my drink still clutched tightly in my hands, my thoughts drifting from reality, I could almost picture the memories playing out on the rain-splattered and fog-coated window to my left. Ones of my brother and I making gourmet mud pies, cakes, and soups with fresh leaves as garnish picked from our maple tree, taking long strolls around the lake with my precious Toller puppy, and sitting under a tree basking in the pleasant chirps of birds and crickets. It was a way for me to escape the chaos of our household, or my grades, because the pitter-patter of the rain simply drowned out anything in my brain that wasn't simple itself. The only thoughts in my head in those moments were about how cute my puppy looked chasing leaves, or how beautifully the water in the lake glimmered with the light peeking through the clouds, contrasting the deep black base. It filled the silence that normally brought up feelings of self-doubt and thoughts of being too insufficient to be worth anything in this life.