Sorry, Not Sorry: A Young Adult Novel Page 8

  Brett swallowed back mention of his sister and changed course, trying to be easy breezy like Tyler himself before he confessed about his thirteen-year-old burden. “That’s okay,” Brett said. “You don’t have to babysit me or anything. I actually have something I need to do tonight.” He bit his lip. “I mean, it’s within the rules and all.” He lifted his trusty lighter out of his pocket and held it up as evidence. This might be the best way to get through the Tyler. “But obviously not all the rules.”

  Tyler squinted at the lighter. “You smoke?” He pinched his index finger and thumb together and moved it to his lips, indicating his version of smoking could not be purchased behind the counter of a drug store.

  Brett produced his little glass bowl from his other pocket as if to say ta da!

  “Cool, man,” Tyler said, and Brett smiled to himself.

  He did not mention the fact that the marijuana in his pocket was of the medicinal variety, prescribed to him by his doctor to calm his anxiety. The truth was, smoking only amplified it.

  “That the only rule you’re willing to break?” Tyler asked.

  “Um.” Brett swallowed hard. It was a simple test. True/false. Yes/no. 50/50 shot. But he never seemed to guess right on any pop quiz. “No?”

  Tyler stopped short and studied Brett up and down. “Yeah,” he said. “I think it is.” He let out a laugh to himself and kept walking.

  Brett slid his drug paraphernalia back into his pocket and tugged on the back of his cape, a nervous tick he’d developed. For the first time in a year, he longed for the button downs he used to wear. It would still be stuffy but at least it might help him blend in for once. “Actually, there is a rule I’m about to break. See that girl sitting on the bench back there?”

  Apparently mentioning the word girl was the magic word because Tyler showed his first sign of life by squinting into the distance. “I can’t tell if she’s hot.”

  “Whoa. She’s thirteen. And my sister.” Brett bit his lip. It was a terrible idea to bring Maya to sleep in a guy’s dorm, but at least he would be there the entire time to look out for her. “And, um, can she stay in your room tonight as well? I know it’s strictly against the rules, but I promise she’ll—”

  Tyler placed a finger gun to the side of his head and pulled the trigger. He spun back around in the opposite direction of Maya, an implied hard no. Still, Brett shouted to her to come on. She ran toward them, the wheels of her suitcase scraping over the uneven sidewalk.

  When she reached them, she beamed up at Tyler, hustling in her combat boots to keep pace with him. Her hair flowed silky and smooth down her back. She must have sat on the bench, brushing her unruly waves into submission. Her lips now glistened with shimmery pink even though she wasn’t allowed to wear make up normally. And she clutched a smoothie—something she definitely didn’t acquire from the bench she was supposed to stay put on. “Hi! I’m Maya! Are you going to help with the graffiti?”

  Tyler didn’t break a stride or even look at them. He just puffed his cheeks and blew out a hard breath as if tonight couldn’t get any worse.

  Traipsing through campus made Brett feel like he had ants crawling all over his skin. It wasn’t just his nerves over finally meeting ShadowGirl but of potentially running into his ex-friends. And his ex-crush. His fingers wrapped around the bowl in his pocket. He needed a hit badly.

  Tyler led Brett and Maya to Boland Hall and hopped up and down in place until another guy headed up the steps and swiped his ID card at the door, unlocking it. Tyler grabbed hold of the door before it slammed shut. This time, he held it open for the Emmichs.

  Brett squinted inside at the cheery posters lining the concrete back wall. “But—my card says DellPlain Hall.”

  Tyler let out a loud sigh. “Thought you didn’t mind breaking the rules?”

  Brett squared his shoulders and scurried after Tyler, a spring in his step, through a winding hallway where girls and boys shuffled out of brown doors, leaving him to wonder if this dorm was co-ed or if the wrong sex was just visiting.

  “Where are we going?” Maya’s brown eyes widened at every door they passed…and all the male genitalia drawn on the posters hanging between them.

  Tyler pushed open a stairwell door, forcing Brett to heave both his and Maya’s suitcases up three flights of stairs. By the time they reached the top, Brett was panting and sweating, his muscles shaking.

  “No elevator?” he asked between breaths.

  “There’s an elevator,” Tyler said like it should be obvious he’d simply chosen to ignore that fact and make Brett do extra work. Tyler knocked on a random door in the middle of the hallway with Greek construction paper letters affixed and a name written on top. Thomas. “Yo, dude, open up.”

  Brett pulled Maya close to him, but she shrugged him off, choosing to stand directly in front of the doorway with the biggest grin on her face. She bounced on her toes and rearranged her hair over her shoulders.

  A guy opened the door wearing only a towel, his skin glistening with moisture. The guy’s dark hair was cut and styled the same way as Brett’s but somehow looked cooler. More efficient. Like hair gel was not just a product but also a weapon. He squinted at Brett and Maya, and then jutted his chin toward Tyler. “What’s up?”

  Tyler shoved Brett forward until he stumbled right into the half-naked guy. “They’re your problem now.”

  And with that Tyler spun on his heels, brushed past Maya and knocked into her shoulder in the process, and headed for the stairwell again, his pace amped to a light jog. As if he were running away.

  “Who the hell are you?” Towel—Thomas—asked, his eyes shifting between Brett and the girl with the training bra waving to him eagerly from the hallway.

  Brett instinctively reached up and touched his hair, adjusting his part to match the guy in front of him. “I—” I’m a burden. “I’m a prospective student. And this is my sister.”

  The guy snorted. “Oh hell no.”

  Brett turned the card over and over in his palm. On the back was a number to call in case of emergency. He could dial it with his tail between his legs, but that would require tattling on Tyler. He’d vowed never to do that again. Not to mention he was breaking a significant rule by towing his sister along and he couldn’t risk getting caught. “But I’m supposed to have a host student and—”

  “I’ve got an Out House pledge thing tonight.”

  Brett’s eyes shifted to the Greek letters on the door next to the name Thomas. Omega Upsilon Tau. Out House.

  “What’s a pledge thing?” Maya clasped her hands together by her belly in a silent prayer that maybe she, too, could take part.

  A tingle fluttered in Brett’s chest. In another life, this could be Brett. They had the same hair, the same general build—minus the six-pack of course—from the back, they might even look the same. But they did not have the same life. This guy excelled in his while Brett only wasted his.

  Thomas pointed down the hall. “You can try George’s room. He might be lame enough to take you in.”

  Before Brett could say anything else, Thomas slammed the door in his face. A lump as thick as a golf ball lodged in his throat and he tried to swallow past it. The worst part was that Maya was here to witness this.

  “Here’s George’s room!” Maya knocked her fist on the closed wood a few doors down before Brett could protest.

  He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Come on. I saw a hotel across the street from campus. We can get a room there for the night.” He’d made his own hell and now he had to lie in it.

  It was a far cry from two years ago, the last time he went on a road trip and holed up in a different hotel room. Back then, every day held the possibility of greatness. And that road trip was one of the greatest of all.

  CHAPTER 9

  BRETT

  Two Years Ago

  Brett watched from the window as Poe’s car rattled into the driveway, bumping over the curb and bouncing up and down. He clutched the sill with white knuckles. His
mother had tried to put her foot down to the road trip, but Brett reminded her that Maya was already gone for a sleepover party at her best friend’s house.

  Brett fled the kitchen, a cape swinging in the wind behind him while a plate of armor shielded his chest in the front. The superhero eye mask he tied over his eyes further helped the disguise. He was dressed as no one in particular, a conglomerate of sorts, but for once he felt fully ready to defend himself against the unknown. Anti-Babysitter, he tested out the words on his lips, then shook his head. Mr. Nice Guy. Yes, that could work for a superhero graphic novel. A guy who fights crime with kindness with the help of his two lady sidekicks.

  “Looking good!” Harper shouted from the passenger seat, her bare feet propped against the dashboard.

  “Looking badass!” Poe corrected.

  A smile popped onto his face as he slid into the seat behind Poe. The air conditioner blew the fringe of Harper’s denim shorts and drew his eyes to the silky curve of her thigh. He forced himself to look away, blinking hard as if she was the sun and he’d get burned if he stared too much. Blood rushed to inappropriate places when his mind latched onto sharing a single hotel room with her. Well, her and Poe.

  His mom had zero problem with him staying in a hotel room with two girls and the truth was, her suspicions were correct. Nothing was going to happen between Brett and them. He’d grudgingly come to that same conclusion himself and had embraced the role of friend. Still, his eyes drifted back toward Harper, taking in her sunny yellow t-shirt that hugged all her curves. He looked away fast from that too, toward the cut up jeans and black tank top Poe tried to pass off as clothes.

  “Where are your costumes?” he asked them.

  Poe spun around and scrubbed Brett’s hair. “Same place my extra suitcase full of booze is. In the trunk.”

  “We’re going to change on the way.” Harper lifted a finger to her lips. “It’s a surprise. Can you handle the suspense?”

  “I think I’ll manage.” Brett leaned against the seat, sprawling out his arms along the back. “After all, I have low expectations. So you can’t possibly disappoint me.”

  Both girls clucked their tongues.

  “Hey.” Harper spun around and lowered her sunglasses. “We’ve worked really hard on these costumes!”

  Brett had grown good at playing this game. The game of acting aloof. “Okay then. I guess I’ll be prepared to fix you up just like I did on Halloween.” He raised his eyebrows as if to say checkmate. On Halloween, Harper tried to dress like Barbara Gordon from Batman at Brett’s suggestion but had gotten several of the details wrong. He swooped in with some last minute retouches to her costume under the guise of helping her. He helped straighten her hair, running her ceramic iron over her strands despite the fact that he’d never even used an actual iron. He replaced the cat eyeglasses Harper had purchased with old horn-rimmed ones left behind by his dad. And he reconstructed a belt from scratch out of yellow felt thanks to learning sewing skills from all those times he had to mend rips in Maya’s pants. Harper even let him pin the belt to her waist, his fingers grazing the tight abs beneath her spandex.

  Now, Brett swallowed hard. Don’t think about that. His eyes landed on her legs again. Or that. Just in case, he set the emergency sweatshirt onto his lap.

  “No way, buddy. I designed her costume this time.” Poe grinned, gunning her foot on the gas despite the fact that they were still in a residential street. Brett’s stomach swerved at the prospect of embarking on a three and a half hour drive with a girl who got her license a week ago. “Which means it’s going to be the kind that gets attention for the right reasons.”

  He raised a brow. “And in this case you mean the right reason is not accuracy?”

  Harper rolled down her window and a cool breeze whipped her hair around her face. “What she really means is it’s going to have a push up bra rather than a turtleneck.”

  Poe shook her head. “Hence why just Brett is not on our list of people to impress. I need to get me some hot nerd boy action.”

  Brett held up his hands. “Why don’t I make the cut of people to impress?”

  The two girls exchanged glances. “You’re just Brett,” Harper said. “You don’t count.”

  A burn started in his cheeks and neck, then shot downward, wrenching his gut. He swallowed hard. Harper didn’t even count him in the running. But of course, it made sense, she only saw him as a friend.

  Maybe he should take a cue from Poe to find a hot nerd girl of his own. Someone not in the friend zone. Someone like him, who preferred to spend her Saturday nights reading the latest comics that came out last week rather than interact with actual people. Or whose first and only kiss turned out to be a practical joke put on her at a party. When the same happened to Brett, Poe had dumped a beer on the cackling girl in his defense, and then Harper wrapped her arm around him and led him back to her house, where she cheered him up with cheesy movies. Brett loved his friends fiercely, but there were times he wanted to be loved in a different way. A way that involved second base.

  He lifted his chin in challenge. “Well, I bet some of the hot nerd chicks will see this shield and think, wow, I bet there’s some hot man chest beneath it.”

  “Hot as in sweaty?” Poe asked. “If so, yes, they will definitely think that.”

  “How ‘bout a challenge then? Whichever one of us that gets hit on by the most—”

  Harper turned around, blinking at him. “Gets what?”

  Brett bit his lip, unsure what to end this with. A lot of bad ideas came to his mind, like gets the extra bed and then he’d purposefully lose in the hopes Poe would win. But he would never try to deceive Harper like that. “Gets to choose nicknames for each of us. I don’t want to be just Brett anymore.”

  Poe merged onto the highway and almost careened directly into one speeding car. “I can get down with this.”

  Without instruction or cue, the three put their hands together in the center aisle and bumped fists, the way they always did before a big night out together…or a night in, as the case may be.

  Two hours into the trip, they stopped at a gas station and the two girls got out to change. Ten minutes went by, then twenty, and then thirty. Brett ripped open a bag of chips and brought one to his lips just as the girls stepped out of the unisex bathroom. His mouth flopped open and the chip fell from his hands. Harper and Poe strutted toward him in the most amazingly elaborate costumes he’d ever seen. Harper wore a short skirt that was made entirely of white ribbon looped tightly around her legs, her torso, and her chest, ending in a strapless dress fit only for a mummy. Purple circles hung below her eyes, highlighted in white, and dark contoured makeup gave her the appearance of skeletal sunken in cheekbones. A white ribbon secured her hair into a high ponytail, her curls falling over her shoulders.

  She was Mumma-Mia, the super-heroine he’d created himself. The character filled countless pages of hopefully future graphic novels, but so far Brett only had the courage to show Harper and Poe the drawings. She’d gotten every detail exact, even the ribbon-laced knee high boots. Brett sat there, stunned. And yeah, impressed.

  Poe, meanwhile, had gone the traditional route, dressing as one of the lead characters in Harper’s favorite book series, The Gorgeous Games. Adora wore leather miniskirts beneath her bustles and lace. She kept knives stashed beneath every article of clothing and accessible with only a quick tug. From the front, the leather mini skirt hugged Poe’s curves, but from the back, a traditional ball gown flowed in an outfit reminiscent of Two Face from the Batman series. Poe decided to jack the trademark skirt even shorter and Brett hopped to God she was at least wearing underwear. She’d teased her hair high on her head and opted for her signature red lipstick instead of the character’s usual demure gloss.

  Even with the inconsistencies, he felt like a proud papa watching his cubs succeed.

  Harper tugged down her dress as she swung her legs into the car. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. I feel like I’m weari
ng a band aide.”

  Poe readjusted her top to accentuate her cleavage. “You look amazing.” She turned to Brett. “Tell her she looks amazing.”

  But Brett couldn’t speak. He could only stare. Shit. He had to stop crushing on the one girl he could never have.

  Chicago Comic Con was everything Brett had dreamed and more. Here he was part of a trend. The majority. And he was noticed in all the right ways. One girl who was dressed as a sexy bunny from an obscure Japanese anime, complete with a tail poking out of her sailor skirt, eyed Brett up and down…and smiled.

  A blush spread across Brett’s entire face and Harper squealed. “And just like that, Brett takes the lead!”

  Brett ducked his head. “She didn’t even talk to me.”

  “Didn’t have to.” Poe swung her hips back and forth as she lead the trio through the thick crowd of the Exhibit Hall. Colorful booths filled with all kinds of comic paraphernalia ranging from t-shirts to figurines to…sex toys lined the aisles. “She wanted to. That’s what counts.”

  “Hey, baby.” Some guy in an Indiana Jones costume waggled his brows at Poe. “What are you supposed to be?”

  Poe swiveled her head back to her friends. “That counts too.” Then she brushed past the guy. “You don’t care what I’m supposed to be,” she told him. “All you care about is that I am sixteen.”

  The guy’s face paled and he backed away. As soon as they cleared past him, Poe paused for a moment, her chest puffing in and out, but then she continued on like nothing happened.

  Within a few hours, the trio was doubling over with laughter at the cheesiest of pickups lines they’d heard so far. Wrap yourself around me, to Harper. What’s under that shield? To Brett (to which he replied, “um, organs?”). You look ready to pounce, to Poe, to which she’d promptly pounced away, her claws bared. Whenever any girls took interest in Brett, he lingered for a moment, mouth opening and closing for a witty retort, another line, a way to take things from meet cute to me and you, but Harper and Poe didn’t indulge in any of their suitors, so he followed suit.