Текст книги "Pushing the Limits"

Автор книги: Katie McGarry

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

NOAH

Twenty-eight anxious days had passed since I’d visited this bleakly decorated room in the social services building. The clowns and elephants painted on the wall were meant to invite happiness, yet the longer I looked, the more sinister they became. Nervous as hell and holding two wrapped gifts, I sat on a cold folding chair. I didn’t need this reminder of how screwed up my family had become. My little brothers used to shadow my every footstep, worshipping the ground I walked on. Now, I wasn’t sure if Tyler remembered our last name.

I waited like a caged jack-in-the-box ready to spring. The social worker needed to bring my brothers in before my nerves exploded. For some reason, Echo and her rocking foot came to mind. She must be wound twice as tight as me.

My mother’s voice chimed in my head. “You must always look presentable. It’s important to put your best foot forward.”

I’d shaved, which I normally didn’t bother doing every day. My mom and dad would have hated my hairstyle and any sign of stubble on my face. With my mother in mind, I didn’t let my hair grow past my ears on the sides, but, out of self-preservation, I’d let the top grow a little long, denying people access to my eyes.

The door opened and I automatically stood with the gifts still in my hands. Jacob flew through the door and rammed his body into mine. His head reached my stomach now. I tossed the presents on the table, lowered myself to Jacob’s level and wrapped my arms around him. My heart dropped. Man, he’d grown.

My social worker, a heavyset black lady in her fifties, paused in the door frame. “Remember, no askin’ personal questions about their foster parents. I’ll be on the other side of that mirror.”

I glared at Keesha. She glared back at me before she left. At least the hate was mutual. After I hit my first foster father, the system had labeled me emotionally unstable and I’d lost the right to see my brothers. Since I’d had no outbursts with any of my other foster families and showed “improvement,” I’d recently regained once-a-month supervised visitation.

Jacob mumbled into my shoulder, “I missed you, Noah.”

I pulled away and looked at my eight-year-old brother. He had Dad’s blond hair, blue eyes and nose. “I missed you, too. Where’s Tyler?”

Jacob diverted his gaze to the floor. “He’s coming. Mom … I mean …” he stuttered. “Carrie is talking to him in the hallway. He’s a little nervous.” His eyes met mine again, full of worry.

I faked a smile and messed up his hair. “No worries, bro. He’ll come when he’s ready. You want to open your present?”

He flashed a smile that reminded me of Mom and nodded. I handed him his gift and watched him open the box that contained twenty new packs of Pokémon cards. He sat on the floor and lost interest in me as he tore open each pack, occasionally telling me random facts about a particular card he liked.

I glanced at the clock and then at the door. I only had so much time with my brothers and some bitch had Tyler. Even though I’d told Jacob it was okay, it wasn’t. Tyler was only two when our parents died. I needed every minute I could get to help him remember them. Hell, who was I kidding? I needed every minute to help him remember me.

“How are things with Carrie and Joe?” I tried to sound nonchalant, but this question made me nervous. I had firsthand experience with shitty foster parents and I’d kill anybody who tried to treat my brothers like those people had treated me.

Jacob organized the cards into different categories. “Fine. They told us on Christmas that we could start calling them Mom and Dad if we wanted to.”

Son of a bitch. My fist clenched and I bit the inside of my mouth, drawing blood.

Jacob looked away from his cards for the first time. “Where you going, Noah?”

“To get Tyler.” I only had forty-five minutes left. If they wanted to play dirty, so could I.

The minute I entered the hallway, Keesha stepped out of the observation room connected to mine, shutting the door behind her. “Get back in there and visit with your brother. You already complain that you don’t see them enough.”

I pointed my finger at her. “I earned at least two hours a month with my brothers. At least—not limited to. If they don’t get Tyler in that room in thirty seconds, I’m going to call a lawyer and tell him you’re knowingly keeping me from my brothers.”

Keesha stared at me for a second then started to laugh. “You’re a smart boy, Noah. Learnin’ the system and usin’ it to your advantage. Get back in there. He’s on his way.” I turned, but Keesha called out, “And Noah, if you ever point your finger at me again, I’ll break it off and hand it to you.”

Jacob gave me Mom’s smile again when I reentered. I focused on shoving the anger out of my system. Jacob was easy. Jacob remembered. Tyler—Tyler was a whole other animal.

Carrie, the perfect adult with perfect brunette hair, entered the room with Tyler wrapped around her like a baby monkey to his mother. I held out my hands. “Give him to me.”

I towered over her. Easy to do since she only came to my shoulder. Instead of handing him over, she slipped another arm around him. “He’s scared.”

Correction. She was scared. “I’m his brother and you’re not related to him. He’ll be fine.”

When she made no move to release him, I continued, “I have the right to this visit.”

She licked her lips. “Tyler, baby, it’s time to see Noah and play with Jacob. It looks like Noah got you a present.”

At those words, Tyler lifted his head and stared at me. The face of my youngest brother almost brought me to my knees. It wasn’t because he looked like me and Mom, but because the entire right side of his face was bruised. My heart beat faster when I saw the patch of shaved brown hair and at least five staples in his skull.

My head snapped to the transparent mirror, a clear indication that if Keesha didn’t get her social worker ass in here, I was going to kill this woman.

I sucked in a calming breath. Tyler was only four and my anger would frighten him. I reached out and took him from her. She held her arms out as if I’d stolen her puppy. “It was an accident,” she whispered.

“Hey, lil’ bro. Would you like to open your present?” I asked Tyler.

Tyler nodded. I placed him next to Jacob and handed him his gift. Keesha walked in as Carrie scurried out. Keesha held her hands up. “It was an accident. I should have told you before Tyler came in, but it slipped my mind.”

My eyes narrowed as I looked straight at her. “We’ll discuss this later.” I returned to my brothers and prayed that Tyler would speak at least one word to me before the session ended.

ONCE AGAIN, I SAT ON THE folding chair, but I wasn’t nervous this time. I was fucking pissed.

Keesha took the seat opposite me. “Carrie and Joe got Tyler a bike for Christmas and they let him ride it a couple of days ago without a helmet. When he fell, they took him immediately to the hospital and notified me. They feel horrible.”

“They should,” I barked. “How do you know they didn’t hit him?”

Keesha picked up the blue ribbon from Tyler’s package. “They’re good people. I don’t believe they would intentionally hurt your brothers.”

Yeah. Genuine saints. “If they’re so great, then they should stop stonewalling me and let me see my brothers.”

“They took on the boys after the incident with your first foster family, Noah. They’d heard that you were emotionally unstable. That alone proves how much they care for those boys. Carrie and Joe don’t want to see them get hurt.”

My fist closed and I kept my hand under the table to prevent myself from pounding the wall like I wanted. Keesha would love more leverage to prove my instability. “I would never hurt them.”

“I know that,” said Keesha with a hint of defeat. “Why do you think I suggested that Mrs. Collins take you on?”

I should have known. “So she’s your fault.”

She leaned forward, placing her arms on the table. “You’re a great kid, Noah. You’ve got a lot of potential in front of you if you’d just lose the attitude.”

I shook my head. “I thought I proved myself already. Christ, you’ve placed me in a home with another teenager.”

“I told you. This can be a slow process. Just come to the visitations, behave and work with Mrs. Collins. By the time you graduate, I’m sure we can move on to unsupervised visitation.”

Unsupervised visitation? A muscle in my jaw jumped. Bullshit. “I’ll be eighteen by the time I graduate. I’ll have custody by then.”

Keesha’s face twitched with amusement, but then became solemn. “You think you could raise your brothers while workin’ at a fast-food joint? You think a judge would choose you over Carrie and Joe?”

Choose me over Carrie and Joe? The realization that the judge might have this choice created a disturbing nausea in my gut. Jacob had said they wanted him to call them Mom and Dad. “Carrie and Joe are filing for adoption, aren’t they?”

The moment she looked away I knew the answer. There was no way in hell anyone but me would raise my brothers. “You’re right, Keesha. I’ve learned a lot in the past two and a half years. I’ve learned that this state takes blood into consideration and that the excuse of me being emotionally unstable must not be sticking if I’ve been placed in a home with another foster kid. I may not be able to take care of my brothers now, but in four months I will.”

Ready to leave, I pushed away from the table and stood. Keesha’s eyes crunched together in anger. “Don’t mess those boys’ lives up over an accident.”

I spun around and pulled up my sleeve, pointing at the round scar on my bicep. “Gerald called that an accident. The best way to describe Don is as an accident. What type of accident would you call Faith and Charles Meeks? I’ve got words for them, but you forbade that type of language. My brothers will never be accidents of this system.”

With that, I stalked out, slamming the door behind me.

Echo

Watching beer pong typically bored me, but not when Lila continued to kick everyone’s butt. The girl was on fire. Plus anytime the opposing team hit her cup, she asked some random guy to drink it. Guys always lined up to do her bidding.

“Are you going to play?” Luke asked.

Caught up in my own thoughts, I’d missed his approach. “Nope. This is all Lila.” Plus I didn’t do anything that drew attention to me.

“Tonight should be all about you. It is your birthday.” He paused. “Happy birthday, Echo.”

“Thanks.”

“So you gonna watch her all night?” Luke appraised the game with his thumbs hitched in his pockets. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was up to something.

“Buddy system. I’ve got Lila and Lila’s got me. Natalie and Grace are around here somewhere.” I surveyed the kitchen, half expecting them to spontaneously appear.

“Smart, yet annoying.” Luke placed his palm on the wall next to my head, but kept his body a safe distance from mine. When he used to do that, he would crowd me with his body, causing butterflies to pole-vault in my stomach. Then he would lean in closer and kiss me. Those days were long gone—the crowding, the butterflies, the pole-vaulting and especially the kissing. “I was going to ask you to dance.”

I made a show of looking around. “Who you trying to make jealous, Luke?”

He withdrew his hand and laughed—really laughed. Not the fake one he used in the cafeteria with his girl of the week. “Come find me when Lila’s done playing games.”

Lila threw her hands in the air and yelled as she demolished, once again, another team. At this point, I was sure they were letting her win just so she’d continue to play. Luke disappeared.

She grabbed one of the remaining cups of beer and walked away from the table, to the dismay of the guys who hung on her every movement. She drank half then handed the rest to me. “Here. Nat’s still DD, right?”

“Yep.” I took the cup from her and finished it off. I didn’t particularly care for the taste, but when at a kegger …

I enjoyed the warm fuzzy feeling the beer eventually brought on. The edges of my life didn’t seem so bad then. Week number two of the second term had brought on my first one-on-one therapy session with Mrs. Collins, no job, and the fear that Noah Hutchins would change his mind and tell everyone about my scars. The two of us had gone back to ignoring each other. “Mrs. Collins asked me this week if I drank. I’m really tired of lying to her.”

Michael Blair, host of the party, walked by with a tray full of beers for another round of beer pong. Lila stole two and passed one to me. “Adults want us to lie. They expect us to lie. They want to live in their perfect little worlds and pretend we do nothing more than eat cookie dough and watch reality TV.”

I sipped the beer. “But we do eat cookie dough and watch reality TV.”

Lila stumbled before narrowing her eyes at me. “Exactly. We do that to take them off guard.”

The warm fuzzy feeling that helped take the edge off also slowed the thought process. I ran through what she said twice. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

She waved her hand around like she was going to explain. Her hand kept moving, but her mouth stayed shut. Finally she dropped her hand and took another drink. “I’ve got no clue. Let’s dance, birthday girl.”

We threw our empty cups in the garbage and wove through the crowd to the source of the pumping music. Music … dancing … Luke had said I needed to find him. I opened my mouth to tell Lila when she abruptly stopped. “I’ve gotta pee.” She took a sharp left and closed the bathroom door behind her.

I leaned my right shoulder against it and listened for dry heaves. Nope, she was definitely peeing.

Pain shot down my left arm when someone ran into me and kept walking. I glanced over my shoulder. “Watch it!”

A girl with long black hair, dressed in black from head to toe and sporting a nose ring, stepped toward me. She stood close enough that I could count her eyelashes over her bloodshot eyes.

“Get out of my way and there wouldn’t be a problem.”

Okay. I was a complete wuss. I’d never gotten into a fistfight in my life. Did anything to avoid people yelling at me. Worried at night that I may have offended someone. So when this biker-looking chick stood there with her arms stretched out wide, waiting for my witty comeback or me to throw a punch, I considered puking.

“Back off, Beth,” a deep, husky voice called out behind me. Crap. I knew that voice.

Biker Beth’s gaze settled right behind my shoulder. “She yelled at me.”

“You ran into her first.” Noah Hutchins stood beside me. His biceps touched my shoulder.

The corners of her mouth stretched up. “You didn’t tell me you were fucking Echo Emerson.”

“Oh, God,” I moaned. She knew me—and she thought I was doing “it” with him. The room tilted and the warm fuzzy feeling I loved faded. Happy birthday to me.

“She’s my tutor.”

I leaned against the wall and wished everything would stop moving.

“Whatever. I’ll see you outside when you’re done studying.” Biker chick Beth waggled her eyebrows and walked away.

Fantastic. Another rumor to worry about. I needed to get away from him. Noah Hutchins meant nothing but bad news. First he made fun of me. Then he saw my scars. Then he destroyed my hopes of fixing Aires’ car. Then he made people think we were doing “it.”

I tried the doorknob to the bathroom, hoping to join Lila in there, but it didn’t budge. Locked doors were in direct violation of the buddy system. Screw it. I pushed off the wall and stumbled to the back door. Air. I needed lots of air.

I inhaled deeply the moment I stepped out onto the patio. The cold air burned my lungs and immediately nipped at the exposed skin on my neck and face. I heard laughter and voices in the darkness beyond the patio line. Probably the stoners smoking their crap.

“Do you have some sort of issue with jackets?”

Come freaking on. Why couldn’t I get rid of him? I spun around and nearly ran into Noah. Depth perception and beer obviously weren’t related. “Are you determined to ruin my life?” Shut up, Echo. “I mean, do you have nothing else to do but destroy me?” That’s enough. You can stop anytime now. “Did you come to this party to tell everyone about my scars?” And I officially became the after-school special on why teenagers shouldn’t drink.

I stared into his eyes and waited for his response. Neither one of us moved. Dear God, Lila and Natalie were right. He was hot. How could I have missed a body built like this? His unzipped jacket exposed his T-shirt, so tight I could see the curve of his muscles. And those dark brown eyes …

Noah straightened his head and coolly responded, “No.”

A cold wind swept across the patio, causing me to shiver. Noah shrugged off his black leather jacket and tossed it around my shoulders. “How are you going to tutor me if you get fucking pneumonia?”

I cocked an eyebrow. What an odd combination of romantic gesture and horribly crude wording. I clutched his jacket, resisting the urge to close my eyes when a sweet, musky scent surrounded me. My slow mind turned one wheel. “That’s twice you brought up tutoring.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. His hair fell into his eyes, blocking my new favorite view. “Nice to know that your mind still works when you’re fucked up.”

“You use that word a lot.” I swayed. Maybe I didn’t need space. I needed a wall. I stumbled and leaned my back against the cold brick. A small mutinous part of my brain chanted “buddy system” over and over again. Yeah, I’ll get on it—in a few.

Noah followed and stopped less than an inch in front of me. So close, the heat from his body enveloped every inch of mine.

“What word?”

“The f one.” Wow. He stood closer to me than Luke had earlier. Close enough that, if he wanted to, he could kiss me.

His dark eyes searched mine and then moved down to inspect the rest of my body. I should tell him to stop or make a sarcastic comment or at least feel degraded, but none of that happened. Not until his lips turned up.

“Meet your approval?” I asked sarcastically.

He laughed. “Yes.” I liked his deep laugh. It tickled my insides.

“You’re high.” Because no one in their right mind would find me attractive. Especially when that person had seen the infamous scars.

“Not yet, but I’m planning on it. Want to come?”

I didn’t need full use of my brain for this answer. “No. I like my brain cells. I find they come in handy when I … oh, I don’t know … think.”

His wicked grin made me smile. Not my fake smile—my real one.

“Funny.” In a lightning-fast move, he placed both of his hands on the brick wall, caging me with his body. He leaned toward me and my heart shifted into a gear I didn’t know existed. His warm breath caressed my neck, melting my frozen skin. I tilted my head, waiting for the solid warmth of his body on mine. I could see his eyes again and those dark orbs screamed hunger. “I heard a rumor.”

“What’s that?” I struggled to get out.

“It’s your birthday.”

Terrified speaking would break the spell, I licked my suddenly dry lips and nodded.

“Happy birthday.” Noah drew his lips closer to mine; that sweet musky smell overwhelmed my senses. I could almost taste his lips when he unexpectedly took a step back, inhaling deeply. The cold air slapped me into the land of the sober.

He ran a hand over his face before heading toward the tree line. “See you soon, Echo Emerson.”

“Wait.” I began to pull off his jacket. “You forgot this.”

“Keep it,” he said without looking back. “I’ll get it from you on Monday. When we discuss tutoring.”

And Noah Hutchins—girl-using stoner boy and jacket-loaning savior—faded into the shadows.

NOAH

“What I don’t get is why you gave her your jacket.” Beth’s head and hair dangled off the mattress. She took a hit off the joint and passed it to Isaiah.

“Because she was cold.” I slouched so far back into the couch that if I relaxed any further it might open up and consume me. I chuckled. This was good shit.

After my run-in with Echo, I bought some pot, gathered Beth and Isaiah from the woods behind Michael Blair’s house and herded us back to Shirley and Dale’s. I couldn’t depend upon either one of them to stay sober enough to drive me home, and I intended to get fucked up beyond belief.

According to my social worker’s file, Isaiah, another foster kid, and I slept in bedrooms upstairs. In reality, this frozen hellhole, more cement block than basement, was where the three of us lived. We took turns sleeping on the old king-size mattress and couch we’d found at Goodwill. We let Beth have the bed upstairs, but when her aunt Shirley and uncle Dale fought, which was most of the time, she shared the mattress with Isaiah while I slept on the couch.

Besides my brothers, Isaiah and Beth were the only people I considered family. I’d met them when Keesha placed me at Shirley and Dale’s the day after my junior year ended. Child Protective Services had placed Isaiah here his freshman year. It was more like a boardinghouse than a home.

Shirley and Dale became foster parents for the money. They ignored us. We ignored them. Beth’s aunt and uncle were okay people, though they had some anger issues. At least they saved their anger for each other. Beth’s mother and boyfriend of the week, on the other hand, liked to take their anger out on Beth, so she stayed here. Keesha remained unaware of this arrangement.

Beth flipped so she could see me straight. “For real. Are you doing her?”

“No.” But after standing so damn close to her, I couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of her warm body under mine. I wished I could blame it on the pot, but I couldn’t. I had been as sober as the day of a court-ordered drug test standing next to her on that patio. Her silky red hair had glimmered in the moonlight, those green eyes looked up at me like I was some sort of answer, and, damn, she smelled like cinnamon and sugar fresh out of the oven. I rubbed my head and sighed. What was wrong with me?

Ever since that day at the library, I couldn’t get Echo Emerson out of my head. Even when I visited my brothers, I thought of her and that rocking foot.

She plagued me for several reasons. First, as much as I hated to admit it, I needed the tutoring. If I intended to get my brothers back, I needed to graduate high school, on time, with a job a hell of a lot better than cooking burgers. I’d missed enough class that I was behind and someone who attended class daily could help me catch up.

“Here. There ain’t much left, but give it a try.” Isaiah sat on the floor between the bed and the couch. He passed me the joint.

I took the last hit and held the smoke until my nostrils and lungs burned. And then there were the reasons that confused me. I exhaled. “Tell me about her.”

“Who?” Beth stared at the floor.

“Echo.” What crackhead names their kid Echo? I knew her, yet I didn’t. I only pursued girls who showed an easy interest in me.

Isaiah closed his eyes and rested his head against the couch. He kept his hair buzzed close to his scalp. His ears were pierced multiple times and tattoos ran the length of his arms. “She’s out of your league.”

Beth giggled. “That’s because she turned you down flat freshman year. Isaiah thought he could date up and asked a sophomore out. Little did he know Ms. Perfect had been dating King Luke for a year.”

Isaiah’s lips twitched. “I seem to remember Luke switching lab partners behind your back so he could sit next to her.”

Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Dick.”

“Focus for me. Echo? Not your pathetic lives.” Like an old married couple, the two of them enjoyed bickering. Isaiah and Beth were a year behind me, but the age difference never bothered us.

Beth sat up on the mattress. She loved to dish dirt. “So Echo’s sophomore year, she’s the star of the school, right? She’s on the dance team, advanced classes, honor roll, art guru, Miss Popularity, and she’s got Luke Manning feeling her up between classes. One month before school lets out—she disappears.” Beth’s eyes widened and she spread her fingers out like a magician doing a trick.

This was not where I thought this story would go. Isaiah watched my reaction and nodded. “Poof.”

“Gone,” added Beth.

“Vanished,” said Isaiah.

“Lost.”

“Evaporated.”

“Gone,” repeated Beth. Her eyes glazed over and she stared down at her toes.

“Beth,” I prodded.

She blinked. “What?”

“The story.” This was the problem with hanging out with stoners. “Echo. Continue.”

“Oh, yeah, so she disappeared,” said Beth.

“Poof,” added Isaiah.

Not this again. “I got it. Moving along.”

“She comes back junior year a completely different person– like Body Snatcher different. It’s still Echo, right? She’s got red curly hair and a rockin’ body,” said Beth.

Isaiah laughed. “You just called her body rocking.”

Beth threw a pillow at him before continuing, “But she’s not Miss Social anymore. Luke and her are history. He moved on to some other girl. Though the rumor is she broke up with him before her disappearance. She quits the dance team, stops entering art contests and barely talks to anyone. Not that I would have talked to anyone either, the way rumors flew around about her.”

“The gossip was brutal, man,” said Isaiah. Beth, Isaiah and I understood gossip. Foster kids and those from bad homes lay low for a reason.

“What did they say?” I had a sinking feeling where this conversation was headed and it didn’t sit well with me.

Beth wrapped her arms around her knees. “On the first day of our junior year she came back wearing a long-sleeve shirt and the same thing the day after that and on and on. It was ninety degrees for the first three weeks of school. What do you think people said?”

Isaiah made a circling motion with his finger. “Her little friends circled the wagons and kept her out of sight.”

“And she started meeting with the school counselor.” Beth paused. “You gotta feel bad for her.”

My eyes had been drifting closed, but Beth’s statement shocked them open. “What?” Beth lacked the sympathy gene.

She lay down on the bed, her eyes fluttering. “Obviously something fucked-up happened to her. Plus, her brother died a couple of months before she disappeared. They were super close. He was only three years older than her and took her to parties and stuff when he was in town. I used to hate her for having an older brother who cared.” Now Beth’s eyes shut completely.

Isaiah stood. “Roll over.”

Beth rolled against the wall. Isaiah grabbed a blanket off the floor and draped it over her. Our storyteller passed out.

Isaiah joined me on the couch. “Most people call Echo a cutter. Some said she tried to commit suicide.” He shook his head. “It’s all messed up, man.”

I was tempted to say I agreed and tell him what happened at the library, but I didn’t. “What happened to her brother?”

“Aires? He was a good guy. Cool to everyone. Joined the Marines out of high school and got himself blown to hell over in Afghanistan.”

Aires and Echo Emerson. Their mother must have hated them to give them names like that. Now I needed to find a way to make nice with the girl. She was my ticket to getting my brothers back.