Sorry, Not Sorry: A Young Adult Novel

by Rachel Shane

  “Come on,” Kate said, nudging Valentina forward with her knee. “Let’s check out the basement.”

  Kate stormed forward, sipping her drink as she went, not even bothering to give her brother a second glance. As Valentina followed her friend, she kept her head forward, but her arm snaked out and reached for Kate’s brother’s hip. She clutched his side, squeezing once, before continuing on. He wore a goofy smile as he watched her go.

  Poe’s gaze lingered on the guy’s hip. Her bones felt watery as a solid lump lodged in her stomach, giving her the distinct feeling of sinking through the ocean, waves crashing overhead. She stared so long and so hard that someone bumped into her. Beer flew out over the top of her cup and sloshed all over her shirt. She set the cup down and forced her feet into motion. They carried her at a hard stomp into a doorway, down wooden rickety steps. She clutched the railing, feeling off balance, her head still spinning with the image of Valentina’s hand on Kate’s brother’s hip.

  When she reached the bottom, she gulped desperate breaths to drown out the sound of her thumping pulse until it wasn’t her heart thrashing but her hips to the beat. Maybe she should drink enough to trigger one of those blackouts she was famous for. She entered a cleared out space that seemed to have been carved out of wood. Handmade benches circled the unfinished hardwood floor and another counter stretched along the back wall. Poe pushed herself into the throng of people waiting for beers as some guy took his sweet time filling them from a silver keg and passing them along to the cutest girls first.

  “Hey, Asshole!” a voice shouted behind Poe. When she glanced around, she spotted Valentina pushing her way to the front. “Two, right here.” Valentina pointed between her and Kate, who hung back, her head ducked, hand shielding her eyes in embarrassment.

  The bartender passed a drink to another girl instead. “I don’t serve people who call me assholes,” he said, a smile stretching on his lips despite his words. Red light from the colored bulb above his head tinted his shaved scalp crimson.

  “And I don’t call people assholes who don’t deserve it.” Valentina raised a brow. “Come on, or I’ll tell Ethan you’re snubbing his little sister.”

  The bartender laughed, crossing bulging muscles over his simple Hanes t-shirt. “As if I’m scared of him.”

  But still, he filled two beers up to the top and handed them both to Valentina. She was about to spin around when her eyes locked on Poe, standing there in the throng. Without glancing away, Valentina thrust up another finger at the bartender as she gave Kate one cup. “Wait, I need one more.”

  The bartender groaned out a heavy sigh, but filled the beer and passed it to Valentina. She handed it to Poe, their arms stretching across a temporary divide in the crowded basement.

  “Thanks,” Poe said in a meek way that sounded out of place on her lips. This was contact, a violation of the Will. This one word could cost her the entire inheritance.

  She better make it worth it.

  Valentina squinted at her. “I know you from somewhere.”

  From our DNA. She waited a moment, pleading with Valentina’s eyes to figure out the connection. To embrace her like the long lost sister was she was. But instead Valentina snapped her fingers. “Bathroom.”

  Poe swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat and nodded.

  Valentina waved her out of the mosh pit to a more spacious square of air a few feet away. They stood beneath the whir of a fan that whipped their hair, their strands mingling together.

  “You don’t go here though, do you?” Valentina asked it in a way that was rhetorical. Then she grabbed Poe’s forearm and squeezed tightly. “Oh my God. You’re a prospective, aren’t you? Ditching your host?”

  Kate gasped, stuffing her own hair into the shoulder of her shirt to prevent it from blowing in her face. “Oh right! That’s happening today. Who’d you ditch?”

  “Lucy something.” Poe rolled her eyes. “She wanted to take me to the library. I wanted to not be lame.”

  Kate threw her head back in laughter. “Ugh that girl. Glasses, right? She showers in her bathing suit!”

  Valentina patted Poe on the shoulder. “You did the right thing. You can hang with us. We’ll show you the real things you need to know about Wisconsin State. Lesson number one—make friends with the guys who throw the best house parties.”

  “Or in my case,” Kate said. “Grow up with one. Then they have to give you first dibs at beer or else you threaten to tell your parents all the things they’ve done.”

  Valentina rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m an only child so my only option was the friend one. Or date one, as the case may be.”

  Poe’s heart pounded so hard and fast at the mention of being an only child, it was as if the room was spinning and not just the fan above her head. “I’m an only child too,” she said. But this was the first time it sounded like an actual lie.

  Valentina lifted up her beer. “Cheers to never having to share a single fucking thing with anyone.”

  “Except roommates.” Kate lifted her cup too.

  Poe clinked her cup against Valentina’s and Kate’s, the plastic indenting. A weird sense of wrongness flowed through her at toasting to something that she could never claim again. She did have a sister. A sister that might be more like Poe than she could stomach.

  “So.” Poe took sip of beer, trying to appear casual. “Which one are you dating?”

  Valentina blew her bangs out of her face. “Ugh.”

  Kate leaned in conspiratorially. “She was dating the guy behind the bar. Jeremy. The one she called Asshole.” Kate whipped her head toward Valentina. “Which is not the way to flirt with the guy you want back, by the way!”

  Valentina scoffed. “Who said I want him back? I want him to want me back. There’s a difference.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “A subtle one if it all ends the same way. Naked.”

  Poe glanced back at the guy behind the bar, who was staring at Valentina like he was trying to rip her clothes off via telepathy. Mission accomplished, apparently. But then why the hell was Valentina squeezing Kate’s brother’s hips so seductively? It was a flirtatious power move. One Poe had used a lot. Squeeze a guy in an illicit place as you pass him by. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t say a word. But he’ll get the message loud and clear.

  “Oh! Duh. We should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Valentina. This is Kate. What’s your name?”

  Poe stared her right in the eye like a challenge. “Poe.” Her lips moved into a prayer. Please recognize the name. Please. “Poe Culliver,” she added so there would be no confusion.

  “After the author?” Valentina tipped her head back and sucked down a gulp of beer, betraying no indication of familiarity.

  Poe opened her mouth to spew the same lie she always said about her mom being a fanatic because it was easier to explain than the truth. But here she was, digging deep into the roots of the girl beside her like an investigative reporter. She owed Valentina the truth too. An eye for an eye. “Actually, no. I was named after an obscure nineties alt rock band that barely had a hit before disappearing from most of the world’s collective memories. But apparently I was conceived after one of the band Poe’s shows. So…” She shrugged. Poe could have stopped there, but she kept going. “And my dad is MIA. Was, I mean. I just got word that he died.” The words were arrows, aimed directly at Valentina, each one screaming in the air and piercing her gut in attempt to break skin. Make her bleed. Earn some kind of reaction.

  Valentina’s face glazed over, her whole body turning white at Poe’s words. She thrust her beer into Kate’s hands before racing away, barreling into people as she went. She disappeared past the stairwell.

  Kate bit her lip. “Ixnay on the dad stuff, okay? I’m sorry about yours, but hers just died too and she’s not taking it very well. These parties are the only things that have been able to distract her.”

  Poe’s whole world seemed to crumble around her and she let go of her beer. It crashed to the floor
and cold liquid dripped down her skin. Valentina knew their dad? Enough to be upset with his passing?

  Kate screeched, frantically rubbing beer off her legs. She took a step away, toward the bathroom maybe. Or Valentina.

  Poe couldn’t let her go. She clamped a hand over Kate’s bicep. When Kate turned to her with confused, wild eyes, Poe scrambled for something to say. Anything. “What happened to Valentina’s dad?”

  “Car accident. Swerved to avoid hitting a squirrel and hit a tree instead.” Kate took another step in Valentina’s direction, dragging Poe with her. “Come on, we should comfort her.”

  Poe followed in a daze, Kate’s last words bouncing around in her brain. Car accident. It wasn’t cancer or some terminal disease he’d have time to plan for. And yet he’d still ensured Poe’s inheritance. He must have had it in the will all along, just in case.

  The girls weaved their way through the crowds until they found the line snaking away from the bathroom. Kate pounded her fist on the door and yelled. Valentina let out a strangled cry before pushing it open. Only a toilet and a stand alone white sink was crammed into the tiny space, both cleaned to frat boy standards with brown sludge ringing the inside of the bowl. Poe stifled her gag, backing away from the grime-lined white walls.

  Valentina sat on the toilet, her breath hitching. Fat, heavy tears streamed down her cheeks, smearing her mascara. “I thought—” she tried to say before a hiccup engulfed her words. “I was—” She sobbed again. “Doing okay.”

  Kate rubbed her shoulder. “I know, sweetie.”

  Poe wrapped her arms around Valentina, a total stranger, a part of her. Valentina sank into her. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Poe tried to say. But instead it came out as, “I’m so sorry for our loss.”

  “He’s never gonna walk me down the aisle,” Valentina said out of nowhere before sniffling and crying again. “That’s the part I can’t get over.”

  Poe had to look away, her temples throbbing from the view of Valentina’s wracking sobs over the father they both shared. A father Poe felt nothing but numbness toward. And gratitude for dying. His death left her the money she needed to fulfill her dreams. But his death also killed Valentina’s dream.

  “He’ll be there in spirit,” Kate said.

  “Tell me about him,” Poe blurted. “The good things. The things you want to always remember.”

  Kate nodded along. “That’s a great idea.”

  “His scrubs always had a distinct antiseptic smell when he would get home from the hospital.” Valentina stared forward, her gaze locked on the tiled wall in front of her, watching the image playing out in her mind. “I used to hate it but now I miss it. I miss the weekend trips to the lake where we’d push the boat out and I’d soak up the sun while Mom fussed about on shore. I miss the way he slurped his coffee—not sipped, slurped. And the Packers room in the house he proudly filled up with autographs and memorabilia like a shrine.”

  She stopped talking, her breath coming back to normal.

  “The way he’d tuck me in at night as a kid—by throwing math equations at me to solve on the fly instead of kissing me on the forehead or something. He wanted me to be in a STEM field, not a fucking writer, but he was still proud of every damn poem I wrote. Even the ones that sucked.” A small smile crested Valentina’s lips as she recalled the memory. “Thank you,” she told Poe, squeezing her hand. “That really helped.”

  Poe stifled the urge to scream, “More! More!” as she clung to every scrap that Valentina had thrown her way, the leftover memories that weren’t hers, now burrowed into her heart. A lake she’d never been on floated in her vision as she pictured herself in a bikini, sunning while the dad she never met rigged the sail.

  But Valentina stood up, ending the conversation with that final gesture, the end of the life raft she had unknowingly thrown Poe’s way. She dipped a tissue in water and swiped at her runny mascara while Poe’s phone vibrated in her pocket.

  It was a text from an unknown number. She squinted at it for a second, trying to make sense of everything that wasn’t her father. When she clicked on it, her stomach dropped.

  I followed you. I’m sorry. But rules are rules and I won’t be one to break them. I notified the school about the party. - Lucy.

  Fucking hell, she’d given Lucy her actual cell number earlier like an idiot. And just like that, sirens wailed above, loud as bombs. The tissue fell out of Valentina’s hands and fluttered to the ground. Screams started outside, all containing the same word. Cops!

  Kate flew to the door and wrenched it open. “We have to get out of here!” She raced into the throng of people.

  But Valentina slammed the door shut, switched off the lights, and crouched down with Poe. “No. We have to hide.”

  CHAPTER 16

  BRETT

  The scent of earthy fungus and pine accosted Brett’s nostrils when the van doors opened. Freedom. It had never tasted so sweet. For the last thirty minutes or so Brett sat with his knees to his chest, desperately trying to stifle his whimpers and worries about Maya as the van bumped along and drove clear off campus. He always felt safer with a mask on he could hide behind, but the fabric bag on his head made him re-think this sentiment.

  “Everyone out!” someone shouted.

  Metal banged as Brett’s fellow victims shuffled out, a sharp contrast to the soft patter of their feet hitting dirt. Leaves rustled and insects hummed in the distance, followed by the howl of a wolf. Brett shuddered and scooted forward on his butt. Hands gripped his shoulders to steady his jump but he still landed in a cloud of dirt that pebbled his ankles. The attackers lined him up next to two others, their shoulders brushing his. His pulse ticked wildly, making it difficult to stay upright. He screamed for his sister against his duct tape muzzle.

  A knife sliced the rope binding his hands. Brett rubbed his aching wrist in relief but braced for the knife to slice elsewhere. In his gut, maybe. He screamed and thrashed before someone leaned in very close to his ear and shouted, “SHHH!” at their highest volume. His ears rang in throbbing pulses.

  “Strip muthafuckers!” the same voice yelled to everyone. “Keep your faces covered.” Hoots and cheers from an audience of what must be onlookers followed. The pop and fizz of several beers and the clinking of cans didn’t ease the tension winding in Brett’s shoulders. Maybe his attackers weren’t serial killers, but dumb college kids were equally as dangerous. After all, Brett knew exactly how a college freshman had stomped all over ShadowGirl’s heart, throwing away the best thing that would ever happen to him.

  All around Brett, clothes rustled and fell to the ground. He stood still, clasping his arms around his covered chest.

  Someone nudged him on the shoulders. “Down to your boxers, Bro.”

  The only movement came from the way his lower lip wobbled beneath the bag shielding his face. In school, this tactic always worked. The fewer movements he made, the less people noticed him. If he stayed invisible, he might have a chance of escaping and getting back to his sister.

  The guy leaned forward enough for Brett to catch a whiff of his beer-laced breath. “Come on, Tommy-boy.” His forehead nudged into Brett’s ear. “This is just in good fun. Don’t make me look bad. I vouched for you to be my Little Bro.”

  How did this possibly qualify as fun? Brett snorted in lieu of an answer.

  “Dude, you’re the only one resisting. Come on, man.”

  The dots connected easily in Brett’s mind. The letters for Out House written on Thomas’s door. Thomas himself claiming to have a fraternity event tonight. The fact that he was kidnapped as he started up the driveway. Little Bro. Thomas’s dark hair and similar build. This wasn’t the end of Brett’s life, this was a hazing event and Brett had been mistaken for boy he could never be. He could put an end to this right now by ripping off the bag and revealing the mistake. But they might freak out that he’d stumbled into their illegal hazing event. They might kidnap him for real to keep his mouth shut.

  No, he had to play alo
ng. If he kept pretending to be “Tommy boy,” maybe he could get back to campus and back to his sister. ShadowGirl, here’s your performance art.

  Hopefully Maya wasn’t an idiot. The hotel was only a ten-minute walk back through campus. Once she got to the room, she’d be safe.

  His thumbs looped around the waistband of his pants and he tugged them down, kicking off his shoes but leaving his lame white boxers on. Brett sucked in his stomach, hoping to flatten the flab he passed off as abs, unlike Thomas’s defined six-pack. With shaky fingers, he lifted his shirt over his head. The bag remained, secured too tight to budge. Cool wind sliced across his bare chest, rustling his boxers, and he squeezed his teeth together to prevent them from chattering.

  His benefactor patted him on the back and Brett closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of a job well done.

  Brett crouched down, running his fingers along the rocky dirt until he found his pants. His fingers fumbled for the back pocket and he slid his phone out. His only link to ShadowGirl and a call for help. Just as swiftly as he stood up, the phone was plucked from his hands.

  “Against the rules,” someone shouted in his face so loud, his ears rang for a few seconds after they stomped away. “No cell phones!” the same voice yelled to the whole group. “No clothes! No shoes! No outside help!”

  “You pussies are miles and miles from campus,” another voice chimed in. “Find your way back if you want to keep your spot in the house. You’re on your own, bitches!”

  The audience of onlookers erupted in hoots followed by the pounding of feet like elephants parading through the forest. After a few minutes, car engines squealed and tires crunched over grass until only eerie silence remained. Just the rushed breaths of the guys left behind mixing with the rustle of leaves.

  And then a simple: “woohoo!” as one of the guys managed to yank off his duct tape to free himself. “Who needs help?”

  The word me! cued up on Brett’s tongue, but he swallowed it back down. Removing the mask meant revealing his identity and then these guys would see him for what he always was: an impostor.