Sorry, Not Sorry: A Young Adult Novel

by Rachel Shane

  “Already sent in my down payment,” Brett said. But the truth wormed its way past his dry throat. “Actually, it’s not like I have a choice. I need to stay as close to home as possible.” He eyed the beer in contempt for how it had managed to loosen his lips after only a sip. “I’m worried my mom will leave my sister home alone and, well, she’s not all that trustworthy. I’ll probably drive back on weekends.”

  A muscle in Nick’s jaw feathered. “But then you’d miss out on all the fun weekend events Out House throws. We’ve got parties, mixers, keggers.”

  “No Soirees?” Brett said, laughing at his own joke.

  A wrinkle indented Nick’s brow. “Huh?”

  Brett shook his head to himself. “Never mind.”

  The guys kept drinking. Kept standing in only boxers. Kept remaining lost. They didn’t seem concerned at all to be trapped in the woods, miles from campus while the darkness seemed to find a way to grow even darker, muddling everything in eerie shadow. Brett had to forcibly stop himself from switching his weight from foot to foot. Wind slipped through the trees, leaves slapping against each other like an audience applauding.

  The more he drank, the easier it went down. He was almost ready for a second. But even with all the liquid courage swimming in his veins, he couldn’t turn off the part of him that itched to get back to Maya and ShadowGirl’s quest. It wasn’t like he could ditch these guys and set off alone in the woods with absolutely no sense of direction. He cursed himself for quitting Boy Scouts back in third grade. “Shouldn’t we be getting back?”

  A few of the guys exchanged glances at Brett’s strange question.

  “Nah,” Nick said. “We can’t go back too soon or they’ll know we cheated.”

  Enzo passed around more beers. Brett placed his nearly empty one back into the cooler while the rest of the guys tossed theirs into the woods. Their own personal trash can. Ants swarmed a discarded can, seizing it as their own. Some guys double-fisted, on their forth or fifth cans in the time it had taken Brett to down one. He sipped his new one a little faster, hoping to catch up.

  When Enzo bent to grab another, he plucked Brett’s half-empty can and wrinkled his nose. “Who the fuck put this one back?”

  Brett’s cheeks burned. He took the coward’s route, glancing around in a lame attempt to appear innocent.

  But Enzo locked eyes on him. “Guess we have no choice but to head back.”

  Finally.

  Groans rang out followed by the desperate chugging of remaining beer. Brett took a deep breath and then knocked his can back, squeezing his eyes shut as the bitter liquid slid down his throat.

  Enzo lifted the cooler and unearthed his next secret, a set of car keys. They dangled in the air, catching the wind, and a few of the guys even got on their knees and bowed down to him as if they weren’t worthy.

  Brett let out a breath. Car keys. He had no idea how many people would be able to fit in the car—maybe Enzo planned to make multiple trips—but he had to be in the first round. He hustled into a sprint until he was in step with Enzo, both of them jogging through the trees. “So my little sister’s back on campus. I need to make sure she’s okay.”

  Enzo shrugged. “I’m sure she is.”

  Just ahead, a U-Haul truck came into view, hidden between two trees. Beyond that, cars zoomed across a highway. Enzo stuffed his two fingers into his mouth and whistled. “Your chariot awaits, my friends!” He rushed forward, leaving Brett in his wake, and unlocked the back doors.

  The boys charged for the van and crawled into the back, their knees scraping along the dusty floor of the empty moving cargo hold. They squeezed inside, sitting shoulder to shoulder, just the way they had done on the drive here. Every time Brett tried to crawl inside, another guy knocked him out of the way. Enzo waltzed to the front and plopped into the driver’s seat.

  Brett’s frown evolved into a grimace. No seat belts. A driver that was four beers deep. Every muscle in Brett’s body went on high alert, all of it ringing the same alarm: Abort! Abort!

  Nick stopped beside him. “Thank God Enzo was tipped off, right? Otherwise we’d have to walk along that highway and follow exit twenty-nine into campus.”

  Brett’s jaw clenched. “Right.”

  Nick patted him on the back before climbing into the van. “Well, it was nice meeting you, man. Good luck.”

  Good luck? But before he could make sense of Nick’s words, he pulled the doors shut right in Brett’s face. The snap of the metal was like a gunshot wound puncturing Brett’s chest. With a squeal of the tires, Enzo twisted the wheel and zoomed away, the van bumping over rocks and trees before disappearing toward the sound of the highway.

  Cold panic struck like lightning across Brett’s flesh. Walk along the highway and follow exit twenty-nine. It wasn’t a random comment. It was directions. The guys had always planned on leaving the liability behind and this was Nick’s one peace offering. Brett squeezed his eyes shut, sucking down the enemies that felt like tears pounding against his eye sockets. He was alone. In the woods. Wearing nothing but boxers. He didn’t know what bears liked to eat but he assumed he appeared to be very appetizing right now.

  He took a deep breath and headed toward the highway.

  CHAPTER 19

  POE

  Valentina squeezed Poe’s hand in the dark bathroom as shuffles of feet and shouts pierced the air outside the door. Poe’s heart thumped, both at the prospect of getting caught…and at holding her sister’s hand. Her eyes fluttered shut in the dark, savoring the feel of her own flesh and blood connected to her in a way she never got at home. Even as a precocious three-year-old whose main goal in life was to cause mischief, her mother didn’t bother to hold her hand in stores. She’d just let Poe roam free and assumed someone would page her on the PA system if Poe got out of hand—which happened more often than not. It felt amazing to have a physical connection with someone she shared more than just a dad. Now they shared an experience.

  “I can’t get arrested again,” Valentina whispered in the dark. “I just can’t.”

  Poe’s limbs twitched. This was all her fault. Lucy wouldn’t have called the cops if she hadn’t walked out on her with her middle finger high in the air. “Why would the cops arrest us though? We’re just at a party?”

  Valentina blew a beer-laced puff of air out of her lungs. “Yeah. And we’re underage.”

  Poe’s stomach dropped through the floor, sharp and heavy. She squeezed Valentina’s hand harder, her ankles straining from crouching for so long.

  The door swung open and Valentina squealed. Poe ducked her head against the harsh light streaming in. A figure hurdled inside, their shadow backlit. They slammed the door shut. Valentina let out a breath when no cops came forward to slap her wrists in metal circles.

  “V?” a male voice said, low and hopeful. “Kate said you were in here.”

  Valentina dropped her hand from Poe’s and pushed herself onto shaky legs. “Ethan?”

  Their two bodies connected. Arms tangled followed by the unmistakable slurp of kisses. Poe’s stomach roiled with the definite prospect of being sick.

  “Shhh,” Valentina whispered. “There’s someone else in here.”

  “Oh shit,” Ethan said, pulling back. “My sister?”

  “No, a prospective.”

  Poe squirmed against the cold bathroom tiles, feeling like an observer in her own life.

  Ethan ran his hand over his hair. “She’s not going to say anything, right?”

  “Who would she even tell?” Valentina assured him.

  “Hey, prospective girl.” Ethan’s voice rose in volume before Valentina shushed him. “Think of this like Vegas. What happens here stays here, got it?”

  Poe’s tongue hung thick and heavy in her mouth like stone. It was almost impossible to speak but she had to say something. She had to stop her sister from making the mistake she was clearly making. “You’re gonna regret this,” she said in a sort of ominous voice. The kind that held both apprehension and war
ning. It was the voice of reason. The voice of experience.

  Ethan raked a hand through his dark hair. “Shit, she’s going to tell.”

  “I’m not going to tell. But whatever it is you two are doing behind your sister slash best friend’s back, I think you should stop right now.”

  Ethan laughed, a hearty one, as if that was the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Valentina’s basically the only girl I actually like here at Wisconsin. I’m not going to stop!”

  “Awww!” she squealed.

  “And I’m not going to throw that away just because my little sister claimed I can’t have her.”

  Poe’s stomach lurched again as the sounds of kissing returned.

  The door slammed against the wall and they all jumped. A flashlight beamed right in their faces, causing Poe to squint. Panic climbed her spine until her pulse thumped in her ears. Valentina and Ethan pulled apart from their embrace but not fast enough to miss the shocked glance from Kate right outside the door as an officer pushed her up the stairs, her hands tied behind her back. “What the fuck?!” she shouted. “You assholes!”

  “Shit,” Valentina cursed under her breath. Ethan tried to wrench his way past the officer blocking the door to follow his sister.

  The officer held up a hand to stop him. “IDs.”

  Poe’s body rattled. She scrambled for her purse and plucked hers out with shaky hands while Ethan thrust his at the officer in a casual flick of his wrist, like this didn’t even matter.

  The officer studied Ethan’s ID, then handed it back without comment. Poe could only guess he was actually twenty-one and therefore not in trouble. But then the officer picked up his walkie, white noise crackling. “Ethan Whitley.”

  Ethan’s entire body froze. Valentina let out a pre-emptive whimper.

  “Confirmed resident,” a scratchy voice said through the speaker.

  “You are under arrest for administering alcohol to minors.” The officer slapped handcuffs around Ethan’s wrists and recited the rest of his Miranda rights. Ethan only responded with a single word repeated over and over. “Fuck me.”

  “No, fuck me,” Valentina whispered next to Poe.

  “Why were you arrested the first time?” Poe asked again.

  “Shoplifting,” Valentina said.

  Poe’s legs trembled when the officer glanced at Valentina’s ID before spinning her around and wrenching her arms behind her back. Poe didn’t bother to protest or fight her way out of this. She simply turned around and held her wrists behind her, waiting for the cold snap of cuffs. The whimper that flew from her lips as the officer marched her upstairs along with the other fifty or so students being arrested for crimes Poe had committed numerous times before.

  She squeezed into the backseat of a cop car, sandwiched between Valentina and Kate, who glared at her friend—former friend?—while Valentina proceeded to cry and sniffle the entire bumpy ride to the station. Poe ached to squeeze her sister’s hand again but she had to settle for pressing her knee against Valentina’s. Any time she tried to speak, the officers in the front seat silenced them with a sharp glare.

  So much for bonding.

  After being booked and fingerprinted, they were herded into a large cell filled with other students rounded up during the raid, each one a mess of drunkenness. Metal bars caged them into the cramped cell and a harsh overhead light winked on and off. Valentina slumped onto the hard bench and buried her face in her hands. “My parents are going to kill me. They threatened to cut me off if I ever got arrested again.” She froze. “Oh God. My mom’s going to kill me.” She fell into wracking sobs, mourning the death of her father—their father—once again.

  Kate stayed on the other side of the small space, her arms crossed like weapons, her eyes daggers. Poe sat next to Valentina on the sticky bench and wrapped her arms around her. “I’ll bail us out. She doesn’t have to know.” It wouldn’t change Poe’s own situation here at Wisconsin State and she hadn’t applied anywhere else. Four years of studying, four years of vanquishing every test, and it all goes to shit in one single night. This was supposed to be the start of her new path, not the roadblock.

  Valentina opened one mascara-streaked eye at her. “You would do that for me?”

  The officers had set their bail at $523. It was only a small dent in the inheritance she’d earned and now she didn’t need it for tuition here. It was worth it. Even if she lost the money due to the loophole clause, it would still be worth it. “Yes, but on one condition.”

  Valentina froze, dropping her hands, her entire body on guard.

  “Stop seeing Ethan and apologize to Kate.”

  Valentina started to scoff at this ridiculous suggestion. Poe’s heart thumped as she waited for the verdict, for Valentina to out right refuse, for the mistake to continue until it burrowed a thick wedge between the two friends. “Okay,” Valentina whispered in a soft voice. “Honestly, I don’t even like him that much anyway.”

  Poe squeezed her eyes at the sharp sense of nostalgia and familiarity curling in her gut. Relief pushed through her lungs in a hot, expelled breath. On shaky legs, she wobbled to the edge of the jail and wrapped her fingers around the cold steel bars. The gazes of the drunken girls left in the cell weighed heavy on her back as she cleared her throat. The night guard begrudgingly pulled herself to her feet and waddled over. She gave Poe a look that could only be described as what the fuck do you want?

  “I’d like to make a phone call.” They had been told they could each make one phone call as soon as their Breathalyzers cleared them. Poe had a long history with alcohol. One Jell-O shot and a single sip of a beer was the equivalent of water for her. It didn’t even make a dent. By the time she’d been tested, her alcohol level was well within the normal range. Valentina and Kate were not so lucky.

  The guard grunted but jostled her key and slid the door open just enough for Poe to squeeze through. She followed the guard to a pay phone affixed to the wall, an ancient relic from a time of the past, now in use only in jails and foreign countries, Poe assumed. The guard crossed her arms and waited while Poe faced the phone, her pulse thumping. It wasn’t just a phone. It was a dilemma.

  In order to be bailed out, Poe had to call someone for help. But her options ranged from hell no to laughable. Her mom was too far away and too useless when she was off gallivanting with her new boy toy, thankfully a different one than the one a few weeks ago who’d eyed Poe up and down like she was an ice cream cone he wanted to lick. All the boys that groveled at Poe’s feet back home were excuse friends, there when it worked for both parties. If she called them, she’d owe them in either sexual favors or answers to the next test, and she’d vowed not to dole out either anymore. That left only two opens.

  Call her worst enemies or rot in jail forever.

  She nearly vomited at the thought.

  She knocked her rings against the concrete walls and weighed her own pride and dignity against someone else’s. Calling someone for help meant rescuing Valentina from the biggest mistake of her life. It was a small sacrifice to make. A simple phone call in exchange for preserving Valentina’s friendship with Kate, something Poe could tell was special.

  She took a deep breath and yanked the phone away from the console, cringing. When the receiver met her ear, it was a contract. She would go through with this, even if it took all her strength to admit her weakness to someone who could exploit it. The dial tone hummed in her ear, encouraging her. She fumbled over the number to call collect. It took an eternity to connect before she was prompted with another dilemma. Who to call.

  Brett or Harper. Each choice could be a dead end or a weapon handed to an enemy. With shaky hands, she punched in Brett’s number and then stumbled through an awkward recitation of her name and a plea to please listen when prompted. It came out like “Poepleaselisten!” Her life flashed before her eyes while the phone rang and rang on the other end.

  Pick up, she prayed silently. Pick up, damn it!

  She chose Brett not because he w
as the most forgiving but because he was the most likely, most desperate, to answer a call from an enemy.

  But he didn’t and the operator came on to ask Poe to choose another number. A second chance. A redo.

  There was only one other option. Poe punched in the number of the girl she still hadn’t forgiven herself for betraying.

  CHAPTER 20

  POE

  One and a Half Years Ago

  A door slammed so hard downstairs, Poe’s teeth snapped together. Harper bolted upright from her perch on the floor. Heavy stomping feet pounded up the stairs, each one hitting with such force, it seemed like it was hammering dirt. Harper scrambled to her feet and rushed to her bedroom door, swinging it open just as Jackson barreled up the stairs, his head down, his cheeks red and dirty. As if he’d been crying.

  Poe sucked in a breath at the sight of him looking so…defeated. This boy. This little boy she used to give noogies to just to piss him off. Behind them, Brett glided to his feet, always stumbling along too late to see anything good.

  Jackson’s eyes widened as he took in the girls—and lone boy—staring at him. He rushed into his room. Harper pounded against his door, hard and fierce. “Jackson! What’s wrong? Did the date not go okay?”

  Poe followed Harper into the hallway, careful to keep her steps light even though something inside her felt very heavy. “Date?” she mouthed to Harper but Harper just waved her away. She glanced at Brett with wide eyes but he just shrugged, clearly as out of the loop as her. Harper’s little brother was on the prowl. Poe squealed at this, earning a sharp glare from Harper. It was only a matter of time before he hit the market. To Harper, he was just her annoying little brother, but to Poe, he was the one who spent more time in detention than studying. The one who always seemed to be grounded for doing something or other his parents didn’t like. The one with more in common with her than she had with her best friend.