Sorry, Not Sorry: A Young Adult Novel Page 5

  BlakeSpacey239: Not cool, jerk of an asshole boyfriend. No one messes with my Shadow Girl.

  Holy shit. Brett lifted his hands from the computer and stared at them in horror. He called her his Shadow Girl. He’d never slipped up like that before.

  ShadowGirl: …YOUR Shadow Girl?

  Crap crap crap. His alter ego was supposed to be suave and cool! Not as bumbling as pathetic as the real Brett. Here he’d been trying to flirt in an attempt to get her to confess about the scavenger clue and instead he’d confessed his own secret. His own feelings.

  He had to save face. Somehow. Fast.

  BlakeSpacey239: …um…pretend I’m not rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment and instead I’m saying something super cool to cover.

  Several minutes passed without a response, those three little dots sitting there, mocking him. He leaped from his chair and paced the floor, too antsy to sit still.

  ShadowGirl: sorry about that, got interrupted.

  Brett jerked in surprise at the ding his computer made when she responded. He dove into his chair, panting in desperation.

  ShadowGirl: Anyway. Are you going to Wisconsin State? For the overnight date thing?

  ShadowGirl: oh ha. That sort of rhymes.

  Her words drizzled through him, liquid temptation. He glanced again at the scavenger email where the line At Wisconsin state, on the overnight date sat there as pure evidence. His whole body thrummed. This time he would definitely play it cool and casual rather than typing the million exclamation points he wanted to type.

  BlakeSpacey239: Funny you should ask that. I wasn’t planning to go, but…I could be convinced.

  The truth was, the thought of going conjured a bitter flavor in the back of his throat. It was once something he used to dream about with his two best friends. How they would all end up at Wisconsin State and have a night to remember on the prospective student overnight. He still planned to go to the school—he had no other choice tuition wise because of the state discount—but he’d vowed to stay far far away from the overnight because it reminded him too much of something he’d never have again.

  But maybe he could have something else. Someone else.

  ShadowGirl: We should meet up there. Would that convince you?

  One long breath slipped from Breath’s throat, and he raced around his room, fist pumping the air like he was slapping the hands of spectators after he won the New York Marathon. But it wasn’t him she had to convince. With shaky fingers, he picked up his phone and dialed his mom. She worked days as a lowly marketing assistant, making one-third the salary his dad made as an executive. But his dad died several years ago from complications from Multiple Sclerosis and his mom was still trying to pay off the medical bills from the nursing home where he’d spent the last few years of his life confined to a bed. She worked weekends as a waitress for a banquet hall, catering weddings and parties where she made only a little above minimum wage. Extra cash, she called it. But the extra cash always went to the same damn thing: bills.

  She always stayed late at work, trying to earn as much overtime as she could. When she answered the phone, her voice sounded weary, like she had almost no energy left to utter a simple hello.

  “Mom…I need a favor.” Brett winced. He’d never once asked her to miss work. Even missing two days could send collections on them.

  “Oh.” She took a heavy breath into the phone. “Ask me anything, honey.”

  “On April eighteenth, there’s an overnight at Wisconsin State?” He held the phone away from his ear so he couldn’t hear the crack in her voice. “I’d really like to go,” he added when she didn’t say anything. “Can you please take off and stay with Maya?”

  He was asking his mother to babysit her own child. All so he could meet a girl from the Internet he’d never even spoken to on the phone. He was awful, but he was also desperate.

  There was a heart-breaking sigh in Mom’s voice that made Brett shatter to pieces. “Okay. I’ll put in for the days right now.”

  His fingers shook when he clicked off the phone. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. He was going to meet ShadowGirl.

  He was going to have someone real to talk to again.

  BlakeSpacey239: *Cracks knuckles* *rubs hands together in anticipation, then blows on them* Let’s do it.

  His words whooshed across the web, solidifying in stone on ShadowGirl’s screen. He clamped his hand over his mouth, reading back his vow. It wasn’t just a meet up he’d agreed to. It was revealing his real self to her, the actual version and not the cool version he could be in twenty-six letters.

  ShadowGirl: Really?! Holy crap. We’re going to meet! But…

  BlakeSpacey239: Oh no. There’s a but.

  ShadowGirl: I need to take care of something first when I get to campus. And I’m sure you do too. ;-)

  BlakeSpacey239: I have no CLUE what you’re talking about. :-)

  ShadowGirl: lol, I don’t either. But how about we both settle in for a bit and when I’m ready, I’ll DM you with meet up details?

  Okay, she was clearly trying to play coy about the scavenger clues. But that made sense. After all, Adora turned out to be the mastermind who set up extra clues just for Cressida and never told her. ShadowGirl was clearly trying to mimic the book.

  Just for him.

  On the day of the overnight, Brett trekked downstairs, his suitcase bumping down every step. He wore a crisp button down over his signature black t-shirt and black jeans. His eyeliner waited in his overnight bag and he felt naked without it. But maybe ShadowGirl would like him better this way. Clean. Wholesome. Like Rupert, the Prince vying for both girls’ hearts—despite the fact that they fell for each other instead.

  The blue glow of the TV blinked images onto the hardwood floor. Maya sat in the dark, the shades closed, a blanket wrapped to her neck. Brett paused in the entryway of the den, his head tilting to the side. “Hey, did you finish your homework yet?”

  Maya rolled her eyes. “I have all day tomorrow to complete it.”

  He opened his mouth to protest but then snapped it shut. This was Mom’s problem today. Tonight, he got to be the kid. “Mom!” He cupped his hands on either side of his mouth. “I’m leaving!”

  “She’s gone.” The whisper floated from the direction of Maya. “Left an hour ago.”

  Cold panic sluiced through his blood. “Wait. What?”

  Maya jutted her chin toward the kitchen. “There’s a note.”

  Brett skidded there so fast, he whacked his knee into the concrete wall. On the granite counter was a post-it containing only two words. I’m sorry.

  Brett stumbled backward into the wall and buried his head in his hands, his throat tight. He’d asked his mom for one favor—one!—and she abandoned him. “Any chance you can stay at Carly’s tonight?”

  Maya shook her head. “She’s at her dad’s this weekend.”

  Crap. Brett couldn’t leave Maya home alone, which meant he couldn’t go to the overnight, which meant he’d be ditching ShadowGirl. Which meant maybe she’d give up on him too, like his former friends did, like everyone did. He also couldn’t bring Maya to the overnight for a million reasons: she wasn’t allowed per the rules, she was a child, it was a terrible idea, and he wasn’t masochistic.

  He swallowed hard just as his phone vibrated in his pocket. A bitter laugh escaped his mouth when he read the subject. A reminder email to begin the scavenger hunt. Even the universe was mocking him.

  He trudged back to the living room and sank into the couch with a heaviness that made the cushions swallow him whole. He glanced at the email one more time, then at his sister.

  An idea tingled at the back of his neck so wild, it robbed him of breath. Maybe he didn’t have to abandon everything. Maybe he could bring her. If he could spin it the right way to get his host on board, the guy might be willing to break the rules and allow an extra guest without tattling to the school. He had to try.

  “Hey.” His voice cracked a little as he tilted t
oward Maya. “Remember that scavenger hunt?”

  Maya bolted upright. “Yes!”

  “Wanna help me do the clues?”

  “I’ll go pack! You take that outfit off and put back on your Goth stuff. I know you want to.” She threw her blanket off her and raced up the stairs.

  Brett opened and closed his mouth for a moment. He thought he’d hid his secret so well from her. But his shoulders relaxed in relief at the idea of having something he could hide behind once again when he needed it the most. After he transformed into his true self, he scrawled a response on his mom’s note: I’m sorry too.

  CHAPTER 5

  HARPER

  Three Years Ago

  Harper arrived at Wisconsin State with a plan of action and a set of balls needed to prank an ex in public, lure him out of his dorm room, and then sneak inside and steal back what he stole from her. Not to mention finally meet Blake in person. That would be her reward for beating Connor in his own game. Her whole body vibrated with excitement over the second plan but she stifled it, focusing only on the first. Only on destroying Connor for good. Closure, she told herself.

  Gothic spires pierced the clouds above, jabbing intricate spiky patterns into the negative space. Gauzy clouds softened the harsh skyline by blurring the edges. Modern square brick buildings squatted between the old fashioned stone buildings, trying and failing to appear like they belonged. Wisconsin State was a blend of old and new, just like her. Her future was here…but so was her past.

  A spring breeze carried the scent of barbecue from an outdoor grill on the lawn of one of the frats near the west parking lot. Smoke curled in the air and created a beacon that attracted giggling girls in sunglasses and sundresses who were hungry for the meat. On a nearby lawn, shirtless guys tossed a football back and forth, coaxing the girls over with glistening, tanned abs—the allure of a different kind of seared flesh. Harper lugged her suitcase past, trying not to look too much like a transient visitor. Soon, she’d belong here.

  A few of the frat boys whistled at her. She waved to them, then promptly tripped on a fallen twig and went flying. Her torso smashed against the ground, knocking the wind out of her with a loud oof that seemed to echo through the trees and bounce off the pastel mansions with Greek letters affixed to their exteriors. Laughter rang out from nearby. She ducked her head away, hiding her burning face behind her arm.

  Wheels scraped over the sidewalk, growing louder. The ground rumbled beneath Harper’s cheek, and a shadow loomed over her. A hand stuck out, offering her the one weapon she wouldn’t have in her crusade against Connor: help. She grabbed the hand anyway, glanced up at her rescuer, and froze.

  Poe Culliver yanked away her hand and stumbled backward as if she couldn’t get away fast enough. She spun on her heels and clutched her suitcase, pulling it so hard the wheels jumped over an uneven stretch of sidewalk.

  Harper scrambled to her feet as the itchy crinkle of embarrassment raced up her spine. Falling in front of strangers was bad but face planting in front of her worst enemy was vomit inducing. And to make things even worse, Poe had rescinded her offer to help as soon as she recognized Harper’s face. The blood coursing Harper’s veins shifted, boiling into rage. She tore her suitcase into motion after Poe.

  Poe amped her pace, practically running away from Harper, her black skirt swishing in the breeze. But Harper was faster. She closed the distance to Poe in only a few steps, ignoring the way her defective heart thrashed. “What the hell was that?” Harper snapped, nudging next to Poe on the too slim sidewalk. Their suitcases bumped against each other as if they, too, were in a battle for supremacy.

  Poe arched a delicately plucked brow. “You falling all over yourself. So basically, nothing new.”

  Harper clenched her handle in a tight fist. “Let me guess, you’re here for a grand old time with whichever boy you see first. Connor on top of the list. So basically, nothing new.”

  Poe’s red lower lip quivered before she caught herself and scoffed. “Let me guess. You’re here because you’ve already forgiven your asshole boyfriend for whatever he did that made you dump him so harshly.”

  Harper flinched. “You know what he did. You were there, after all.”

  Poe’s face hardened. “If you think I went anywhere near that jerk, then you never knew me at all.”

  “Then why were you at the movies with him?”

  “I wasn’t with him! I was with Damien Walsh. God!” Poe spun around, her long hair whipping Harper in the face like a slap. She marched ahead, her steps heavy, as if she was trying to puncture the sidewalk with her heels.

  Poe’s words tangled in Harper’s chest. Poe hadn’t been the one to kiss Connor in the movies? Harper figured Poe’s hatred for her would trump any ill will toward him if it meant plunging a knife in her chest by way of his. Though going to the movies with Emma’s ex wasn’t exactly great either.

  Harper tugged herself into step, keeping a whole block of distance apart. Poe reached the overnight kick off meeting building first, stopping short just before she traipsed up the steps. She whipped her head to the right, staring at something in the distance. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she yelled so loudly, the words carried all the way to Harper one hundred feet away.

  Following Poe’s line of vision, Harper squinted into the distance until she spotted something that made a scream well in her throat: Brett ducking his head, huddling into his cape as it flapped in the wind. His little sister trailed behind him, dragging a glittery pink suitcase that glinted in the sun. They were heading toward the building—toward them—from a different direction. The wound Brett had punctured in her gut a year ago stung as if freshly bleeding.

  When Harper reached her, Poe waited at the bottom of the steps. A smirk crested her lips in clear anticipation of the inevitable showdown. Poe always did like drama off the stage just as much as she liked it on.

  When Brett lifted his head and spotted, he froze. Maya careened into him and threw up her hands in annoyance. Brett spun on his heels and silently directed her to a green wooden bench they’d just passed with a stern point of his finger. She crossed her arms in defiance, but then whatever he said in a hushed tone sent her stomping toward the bench and plopping down on it with a scowl on her face. Brett’s chest puffed out as he made his way toward the other two girls.

  “Well, hello, Brett. I’d ask what you’re doing here, but it’s not like you have anything better to do on a Saturday night.” Poe jutted her chin toward Maya. “Case in point.”

  Brett lifted his shield in lieu of an answer, glancing up at the two girls he once betrayed beneath his long boy lashes.

  Poe clucked her tongue. “Funny how now you’re too scared to speak when last year you were more than happy to spill our secrets.”

  Brett blew a hot breath through his nostrils. “I…I had to.” It was his only defense at the time too, though Harper wasn’t sure if he was talking about the past or the fact that he’d brought his thirteen-year-old sister to a college overnight. “Please.” Brett lifted his like a traffic controller. “Can we just try to get through tonight without anyone getting hurt?”

  “Fine,” Harper said fast. She had more important people to focus on than these two. She’d come to Wisconsin State to battle with Connor, not the two hatchets she’d long since removed from the ground, never to be buried again.

  “Agreed.” Poe spun on her heels and stalked inside.

  Harper squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten to put some distance between her and Poe. Her mind flashed to four years ago, when the three of them first collided in an explosion of friendship, and not simply an explosion.

  CHAPTER 6

  HARPER

  The day the trio first met was also Harper’s first day at Whiskey Falls High. She’d moved here from her old town of Great Neck, New York thanks to her dad’s promotion to head up the new Wisconsin branch of Empieria Inc. Sadly, the town of Whiskey Falls no longer contained any whiskey thanks to Empieria taking over the landmark pr
oduction warehouse built in the seventeen hundreds. A line of picketers blocking the town boarders greeted the Faegan moving van when it first pulled up, each of the protesters eager to preserve history rather than create jobs. Harper’s younger brother Jackson shot them a middle finger as their car barreled through, forcing the rebels to scatter and shout silent screams lost against their closed window. Harper’s fingers clutched the door handle, ready to pull it open and join them.

  Back home she had a tight knit group of girlfriends that referred to themselves as the Great Eight. She was captain of her eighth grade soccer team and voted Most Popular in the end of the year Superlatives. She had it all. Until she had to give it all up.

  Her parents made the mistake of moving two weeks too late, basing the school schedule on her old Long Island one, which started after Labor Day, but Wisconsin started in mid-August, putting her two weeks behind her classes and any attempt to wedge her way into friendships. In Spanish class, she was assigned the class nerd as her partner, the one who sat all the way in the front row with a ring of empty seats surrounding him, as if he literally repelled the other students away. He eagerly gave her his phone number so they could work on their month-long project together, and by mid-day, Harper worried that was the only invitation she’d receive at Whiskey Falls.

  Even at lunch, she stood at the entrance, clutching her paper bag and craning her neck around so someone would notice her and invite her to sit. Anyone. She’d even settle for a teacher. But after a minute of being knocked into by students rushing past her to sit on the grassy quad, she asked for a pass to the office and chewed on her inner cheek to stave off tears as she spoke to the guidance counselor about her schedule. Her heart nearly cracked in two when she asked to switch out of her Weight Training elective—the only elective she’d been excited about—and into Business Management instead. Gag. But switching meant her lunch period would be an hour later from now on. Tomorrow she’d have a second chance.