Sorry, Not Sorry: A Young Adult Novel

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Sorry, Not Sorry: A Young Adult Novel Page 18

by Rachel Shane


  “I’ll pay you back,” Poe added after Harper hadn’t responded. “For this call too.”

  Harper spat out a tsk, unable to keep the jab out of her voice. “With what money?”

  There was a moment of silence before Poe begged softly, “Please.”

  The please made Harper’s resolve waver. “If I do this, you’ll owe me another favor. You’ll be indebted twice.”

  “Obviously. I know you’d never do anything out of the goodness of your own heart.”

  Harper winced at that comment, her hands curling into fists at Poe’s accusation. At the way it stung because it was sometimes true. She wasn’t perfect and was only a good person most of the time and fuck Poe for calling her on it. “Hold on a sec.” She pulled the cell phone away from her ear and stuck her middle finger at the screen, her hand trembling with rage. She sucked in gulps of stale dorm air and pressed the phone against her ear again, hard. “Fine.” The snap of her teeth was audible. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Though as soon as I can involved walking very slowly to her car and maybe circling the parking lot a few times, so Poe had to sit there waiting for her just a little bit more.

  Even if it meant eating into her self-imposed deadline she’d given herself via the text to Blake.

  Harper hung up and glanced at Starr, trying to keep her voice steady. “Listen, I need to help my…um…friend out for a few.” The word friend stuck on her tongue.

  Starr shrugged her off. “No worries, we’ve got a retaliation plan in the works here. When you get back, I promise those boys will be cowering. You’ll have a straight path into dumbass’s room.”

  Harper smiled and retreated back to Starr’s now animal-free room to retrieve her car keys and change out of her paint-splattered, fish smelling clothes. A feeling of dread welled in her stomach, both at the prospect of how the prank war had already gotten so out of control and now she was relinquishing her last hold on it.

  CHAPTER 22

  BRETT

  Brett sucked in a deep breath filled with the scent of pine and grass. His foot plunked down in a puddle of gooey mud that oozed around his ankles. With no way to circle around it thanks to densely packed trees, he sighed and then placed his second foot in the mud. The cold sludge seemed like an obvious punishment for enjoying himself for a few minutes before it all went to hell. Brett had always pictured himself meeting college friends with similar likes and dislikes, ones who were eager to sit around on a Saturday night engaging in lengthy discussions about Brian K. Vaughn’s newest graphic novel or speculation for Book 4 of The Gorgeous Games series while wisps of marijuana smoke spiraled in the air. But he could only let out a self-deprecating laugh at his situation now. Of course this was the reality of college for Brett. It was no different than his current hell of high school.

  A metal railing separated the forest from the road. The van must have found a way around even though the railing stretched as far as Brett could see in both directions. With a sigh, he climbed over it, scraping his inner thigh against the sharp edge. Pain radiated, throbbing, and Brett let out a yelp that died against the rush of tires.

  Nick had said to follow the highway but neglected to give Brett any clue as to which direction he should walk. Brett decided to follow traffic and hoped it was the right choice. He’d already hit his quota of wrong choices this evening.

  As cars zoomed past him, blowing his hair from the velocity, he lifted his thumb half-heartedly. There was danger in getting into a stranger’s car—while wearing nothing but boxers—but Brett was sick of playing it safe. If risking his life meant there was a chance of getting back to campus and making sure his sister was safe, plus meeting up with ShadowGirl, he’d take it.

  But it turned out a guy walking barefoot along the highway in his undies wasn’t the most appealing stranger to stop for. Every car breezed past him. A few honked. One rolled down the window and hooted. This must be what it felt like to be an attraction in a zoo.

  Brett’s raw feet scraped against the rough curb. He closed his eyes and savored the feel of the pain, letting it sting worse than the hurt flowing inside him.

  A monster SUV slowed at the sight of him before lurching to a stop. Bright lights bathed the trees in two glowing beams. Brett’s heart thumped with a million emotions at once: hope, excitement, relief, fear. He lifted his hand in an ET-wave. I come in peace.

  The window rolled down, and the driver inside gasped. “It is you.”

  Brett squinted against the bright lights casting the driver in a darkness outlined by a glowing halo. The driver unbuckled and leaned across the passenger seat. A lock of curly red hair escaped the open window, and Brett flinched, stumbling back a step.

  Harper.

  There was a time when a whiff of Harper’s perfume or a glimpse of her hair bouncing in his peripheral vision made his entire world light up. But now it sent revulsion swirling through his stomach. Brett took a deep breath and closed his eyes, wishing for the bad dream to end.

  Cold embarrassment crept down his backbone, making his bones feel watery and unstable. The blood whooshing in his ears thumped like the hard stomp of a million bullies crushing his windpipe. He didn’t even like wearing swim trunks at the public pool and here he was, almost naked with the one person in the world he wore a shield to protect against.

  Harper’s eyes slid down, over his dirt-streaked chest, past the layer of flab pudging his stomach, and down to his boxers. “Whoa. What happened?” she asked, her voice filled with the kind of shock that ricocheted through his chest like a bullet wound.

  It was only then that his muscles kicked into gear, his body remembering how to work. How to shield himself the way that always came naturally. He didn’t have a cape but he still had hands. And he thrust them in front of his manhood. “Go ahead. Leave me in the dust like I know you want to.” Or maybe that was what he wanted. In a choice between having his worst enemy rescue him, he’d choose rotting in hell any day. He twisted around and started walking in the direction he was already going.

  Harper inched the car up to glide with him. “You’re going the wrong way. Campus is in the other direction.”

  Brett let out an exasperated scream and twisted on his bruised feet to face the opposite way.

  Harper honked the car loud and fierce until it rang in Brett’s ears. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m obviously not leaving you like this. So why don’t you tell me exactly why you’re walking on the highway at ten o’clock at night without clothes?” She set the car in reverse and started drifting the wrong way on the highway, earning a few honks from oncoming cars.

  Now her life was in his hands. She left him with no other choice but to reveal. He spat the words with venom. “I was kidnapped, okay? Happy now?” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  Harper clamped a palm over her mouth, then second guessed herself and placed it on Brett’s shoulder instead as the car glided backward. Every nerve ending beneath her touch tingled and danced. He swatted her away. “Oh my God,” she said. “Are you okay?”

  Brett shrugged. There was a part of him—a strong part—that didn’t want to admit that he was not okay. That he hadn’t been since prom last year. “I’ve been better.”

  She pushed open the passenger door. “I’m on the way to the police station. Come on. You can file a report.”

  “I’d rather walk.”

  Harper squinted at him as if he were crazy. “You’d seriously rather walk five more miles than ride with me?”

  Brett blew hot air out of his cheeks. His body and feet made the decision for him despite his brain’s protests. He crawled into the car, scooting all the way to the door to put as much space between them as possible. Warmth engulfed him, putting a stop to his chattering teeth. His nose twitched at the intense scent of Harper’s floral perfume. The scent instantly made his stomach coil with memories and feelings he’d long since discarded.

  He held his nose.

  She unzipped the hoodie she was wearing—revealing a simple black t-shirt—and to
ssed the hoodie to him. Flecks of paint fluttered off her forearms like confetti. “Here. You can tie it around your waist or something.”

  Brett clutched the warm hoodie in his shaking fingers. “Thanks.” Something she’d said before caught up with him. He tilted his head toward her. “Wait. Why are you going to the police station?”

  She bit her lip and glanced away, but then came back with a full force gaze of big blue eyes. “Actually, I’m going to bail out Poe.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s not what you think. She’s going to help me in return, too.” Suddenly she whipped her head toward him. “Wait. Where’s Maya?”

  He let out a strangled cry. “Hopefully back in our room at the Holiday Inn across the street from campus.” He squeezed his eyes shut as a new idea rocketed through him. Technically Harper was already doing him one favor and he was about to ask for another. “Actually, my cell phone was stolen in the kidnapping. Would you mind calling the front desk and asking them to connect you to room 417?”

  “On it.” Within seconds, she’d googled for the number and spoke in rushed tones to the person who answered. She sounded concerned. “They connected me to the room. It’s ringing.”

  Brett let out a breath even though Maya hadn’t been found yet.

  After a few seconds, Harper bit her lip. “No answer. Hold on, it’s connecting me back to the desk. Let me ask them to knock on the door.”

  Panic climbed Brett’s spine as Harper relayed the instructions. Five excruciating minutes passed before her face went white. “Well, I’d appreciate if you keep trying to call or knock on the room periodically. If someone answers, can you please call me back?” Harper rattled off her number, and then turned to Brett with big, scared eyes. “No answer on the door either.” She reached over and placed a hand on Brett’s arm. “Was she kidnapped too? I mean, how did you escape?”

  Brett leaned his head against the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. His sister could be anywhere. “I was mistaken for a pledge and kidnapped in a hazing ritual. They weren’t after Maya so I’m pretty sure she got away.”

  Harper’s mouth parted in shock. “Seriously? Wow. Well, you should definitely report that.”

  He raised his brow at her. “You don’t think that’s lame?”

  “They left you in the middle of the woods with only your boxers. How is that lame? That’s a crime.” She gunned the engine. “Come on. As much as I’d love to let Poe fester in there a little longer, you need to get there ASAP and I need to get back to campus. The police will help you find your sister.”

  Brett’s mind flashed to Maya’s idea of knocking on a sorority’s door and sneaking inside to use their phone. She had the code memorized for the scavenger hunt. Shit. Maya wasn’t the kind of person who would sit idly by and twiddle her thumbs waiting for Brett to return to complete it. She hadn’t even sat on the bench for the full thirty minutes he was in orientation. “I think I know where she is.” A shaky breath rattled through his lungs. “Or rather, how to find her.”

  “Are you sure?” Harper asked and Brett nodded. “Okay then after we’re done at the station, I’ll drop you off there.”

  At the station, Brett’s feet landed on rough gravel parking lot, bumpy rocks digging into his soles. The wind seemed colder here, wrapping him in a thick tornado that made his hair whip. He felt off balance as the girl who once stabbed him in the back walked behind him to shield his boxers from public consumption.

  Harper placed a guiding hand on Brett’s shoulder to lead him into the station, making sure he didn’t trip on the concrete steps. A police officer smoking near the door straightened, his eyes wide as Harper marched Brett inside as if Brett was a criminal she managed to capture like an amateur bounty hunter. Brett stepped over the threshold, his bare feet sliding on dusty linoleum. He blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights beaming down on him. Ringing phones, officers shouting to one another, and clicks of heels filled the room with a cacophony of sounds.

  “He’s been kidnapped.” Harper pointed at him with a hitchhiker’s thumb. “And I need to bail some people out.”

  An officer rushed to pluck Harper’s hand away. “Sir, come with me.” He gestured for Brett to follow him into the back where an interrogation room probably rested.

  “We’ll wait for you!” Harper shouted.

  We’ll. Harper and Poe. Reunited again at last.

  CHAPTER 23

  BRETT

  One Year Ago

  Brett froze on his way to Western Civ when he spotted a swath of curly red hair in the corner of his vision. Students bumped into him, flinging curses and middle fingers as if he had just caused a five-car pile up on the interstate after slamming on his breaks. Harper emerged from an unmarked door hidden in a slight alcove. She ducked forward, shielding her flushed face as she merged with the crowd. Her clothes were now wrinkled, her shirt half sticking out of her skirt. She readjusted her outfit, hastily tucking it back in while balancing her books in her armpit.

  Each jab of a passing elbow poking his side from a passerby summed up how he felt nicely. His heart bled out right there on the scuffed linoleum floor. He knew he should leave, make a run for the nurse’s office or maybe the first cliff he could find to jump off of, but his feet remained glued in place thanks to a crippling combination of curiosity and masochism. He stayed until the hallway emptied. Until the seventh period bell buzzed in his ear. Until the unmarked door swung open and Connor Cunningham loped out with a swagger in his step. He glanced at Brett and delivered him a wink before ambling on by.

  Brett squeezed his eyes shut and gulped in deep breaths before rushing over to the water fountain and splashing cold liquid on his face. Harper was seeing Connor. He’d strongly suspected it after watching them together during the Homes for Charity week, but he always found ways to write it off: Harper would never do that to Poe. Harper would have told me. Pigs haven’t started flying yet. But they were all just excuses. The secret was on the front of Brett’s lips. He tasted it on his tongue. And it was killing him inside.

  How could she do that? With Connor of all people?

  Brett curled his hands into fists and stomped down the hallway toward whatever class he had next. He didn’t remember. He didn’t care. His eyes became laser focused with a single need. The need to say something.

  The problem was, he wasn’t sure who to say it to. Tell Harper to stop? Or confess Harper’s secret to Poe?

  His spine shuddered as his mind supplied a replay of last week. Poe sneaking out in the dark. The heavy breathing and moaning coming from Jackson’s room. Even a pillow over his ears wouldn’t drown out the heady groans. The face Poe met him with when she returned: not regretful, but a warning. To keep his mouth shut.

  No, he couldn’t tell Poe.

  It took two full class periods, but by the final bell, he’d worked up enough courage to confront Harper. He kept his eyes forward weaving through the hallway, careful not to lose focus until he reached her locker where she was shoving books into her tote. She beamed a smile at him, her lips bee swollen. A sting started in his throat, so he squared his shoulders and forced the words past his mouth. Before he chickened out. “I saw you.” Each word fell heavy with accusation, stabbed at her so viciously she actually stumbled back a step. “With Connor.” He stood so close his hot breath moved the fabric of her shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a pair of googly eyes affixed above her locker, in such an obvious place, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to point them out and gain the victory.

  He expected her to scrunch up. Deny it. Fumble through excuses.

  Instead she let out a breath, her entire body sagging in relief. “Thank God.”

  Brett panted from the exertion of his confrontation, his mind reeling to make sense of her words and her actions. She grabbed his arm, her fingers warm as they wrapped around the skin of his bare shoulder. Nerve endings danced and tingled beneath her touch, and he did something he thought he’d never
ever do. He shrugged away.

  “This is prefect,” she said, not even noticing. Her hand veered to close her locker as if that had always been its path and Brett had momentarily gotten in the way. “I was thinking about prom.”

  Brett pressed a palm to his forehead, trying to make sense of this, too. “Prom?”

  “Will you go with me?” She gave him a small, shy smile.

  His eyebrows shot up, along with all the hope stored in his veins. “Y—you want to go to prom with me?” The end of his sentence rose as if he was about to shout it from the rooftop.

  “You can cover for me when I slip out to meet…” She glanced around to make sure no one overheard. “I can’t exactly show up there with him. Poe would freak.”

  Brett opened his mouth to tell her exactly that. That it was wrong. But his lips had other ideas. They mostly involved kissing. And not being a fucking idiot when the girl he loved asked him to prom. “Okay,” he said.

  Ugh. He’d just agreed to go to prom with a girl who secretly was going with another guy. That was the epitome of pathetic. But he also couldn’t wait to go home and perform a victory dance worthy of Superbowl accolades.

  “Should I get you a corsage?” He tried to sound as casual as possible, like it didn’t even matter whether she said yes or no even though he’d been dreaming about what type and color he’d get her if he ever had a chance (three roses, all black because they were the rarest).

  “A corsage for who?” a new voice said.

  Brett whipped his head around to see Poe standing behind them, her long black hair draped over her face like a shield. His heart ramped like he’d been caught doing something really bad, even though he had been the one to catch her.

 

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