Текст книги "Pushing the Limits"

Автор книги: Katie McGarry

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

NOAH

After school, I spotted Echo weaving through the crowded hallway. She swung into the main office seconds before I caught up to her. Tuesday was my only night off and I’d planned on shooting hoops with Isaiah. I slammed my fist into the locker beside me. Now I had to wait for some stuck-up head case to be done with her therapy appointment.

I wandered the halls before settling across from Echo’s locker. She hadn’t had her backpack or coat with her, so I figured she’d have to come get them before she left for the day. Forty mind-numbing minutes later, I was questioning my decision. Echo had coat issues. Waiting by her car would have been smarter.

Heels clicking against the linoleum floor signaled her approach. Echo’s red spiral curls bounced with each step. Clutching her books tight to her chest, she kept her head down. Every muscle in my body clenched when she walked past. I’d tolerated her ignoring me during school, but to flat-out diss me in an empty hallway was beyond cold. With her back to me, she tried the combination on her lock. The metal locker lurched open.

“You are the rudest damn person I have ever met.” I shoved off the ground. Screw her, Mrs. Collins and tutoring. I’d find a way to bring myself to speed. “Give me my damn jacket.”

Echo spun around. For a second, pure pain slashed her face, but then another storm brewed in her eyes. A storm that required hurricane warnings and evacuations. “No wonder you need tutoring. You have the worst vocabulary of anyone I know. Have you ever even bothered learning anything beyond four-letter words?”

“I’ve got another four-letter word for you. Fuck you. You got back with your boyfriend and couldn’t stomach giving me my stuff in front of other people.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know crazy when I see it.” The moment the words flew out of my mouth I regretted them. Sometimes when you see the line, you think it’s a good idea to cross it—until you do.

For the second time since meeting her, Echo looked as if I’d slapped her. Water pooled at the bottom edges of her eyes, her cheeks flushed red and she blinked rapidly. She’d succeeded in making me feel like a dick … again.

She reached into her locker and flung my jacket at me. “You are such a jerk!” She slammed shut her locker and stalked off.

Dammit. Just dammit. “Echo!” I ran after her. “Echo, wait.”

But she didn’t. I caught up to her, grabbed her arm and turned her toward me. Dammit all to hell, tears poured down her face. What was I supposed to do now?

She sniffed. “I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I didn’t see you.” She wiped the tears with the back of her hand. “I should have given you your jacket back yesterday, but …” Her slender white neck moved as she swallowed. “But I wanted normal and for a few minutes that’s what I was. Like two years ago … like before …” And she trailed off.

If I’d had the thinnest chance at normal again, I would have burned the damn jacket. I was sure she wanted her brother back as much as I wanted mine. To have a home again, and parents, and dammit. Normal.

I took a deep, pride-eating breath. In the wise words of Isaiah—poof. My muscles relaxed and my anger disappeared. Lowering her head, Echo withdrew into her hair. I would never understand why this girl made me grow a conscience. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

She revealed her pale face and sniffed again. One red curl clung to her tearstained cheek. My hand reached out to release it, but I hesitated a mere heartbeat away from her skin. I swear to God she quit breathing and even blinking, and for a second so did I. In a deliberate movement, I freed the curl.

She exhaled a shaky breath and licked her lips when I lowered my hand. “Thanks.”

For the apology or the curl, I had no idea and wasn’t going to ask. My heart pounded in tune with thrash metal. We’d read about sirens in English this fall; Greek mythology bullshit about women so beautiful, their voices so enchanting, that men did anything for them. Turned out that mythology crap was real because every time I saw her, I lost my mind.

Normal. She wanted normal and so did I. “You know what’s normal?”

“What?” She wiped away her remaining tears.

“Calculus.”

No doubt, Echo Emerson equaled siren. She gave me the same smile I’d seen on Saturday night. That type of smile caused men to write those pussy-ass songs that Isaiah and I made fun of. I’d sit in Mrs. Collins’s office for hours and wake my ass up early to go to calculus in order to see that smile again. This was fucked up.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s do normal.”

And we did. For an hour, we sat against the lockers and she caught me up on a few lessons. She used her hands to describe things, which was pretty damn hilarious since we were discussing math. Her green eyes shone when I asked questions and she gave me that siren smile each time I clued in. That smile only made me want to learn more.

She took a deep breath after finishing her explanation of a derivative. I’d understood a derivative five minutes ago, but I loved the sound of her sweet voice. Part angel, part music.

“You know a lot about math,” I said. You know a lot about math? What type of statement was that? Right along of the lines of “Hey, you have hair and it’s red and curly.” Real smooth.

“My brother, Aires, was the math genius of our family. The only reason I can keep up is because he tutored me. He never turned in his calculus book, knowing I’d need all the help I could get.” Handling it with the same reverence my mother had carried the family Bible, Echo pulled out an old, tattered math book from her backpack and began turning pages. The book contained copious notes written in blue or black ink in the margins. “Guess that makes me a cheater, huh?”

“No, it means you have a brother who cared.” Was my brothers’ foster mom helping them with their homework, or was she like Gerald’s wife? Locking herself in the bedroom, she’d pretended none of her foster kids existed and that he didn’t beat us.

She stroked the handwritten words on the page. “I miss him. He died two years ago in Afghanistan.” Echo clutched the book like it was a life raft. “IED.”

“I’m sorry.” I’d said that phrase more to her today than I had said it over the past two and a half years. “About your brother.”

“Thanks,” she said in a lifeless voice.

“It doesn’t get better,” I said. “The pain. The wounds scab over and you don’t always feel like a knife is slashing through you. But when you least expect it, the pain flashes to remind you you’ll never be the same.”

Why I was telling her this, I didn’t know. Maybe because she was the first person I’d met since my parents died who could understand. I stared at the pulsating fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling. On. Off. On. Off. I wished I could find my pain’s off switch.

A warm, tickling touch crashed me back to earth. Maybe it sent me straight to heaven. Either way, it dragged me out of hell. Echo’s pink fingernails caressed the back of my hand. “Who did you lose?”

“My parents.” No pathetic sympathy crossed her face, only plain understanding. “Think Mrs. Collins put the two most depressed people together on purpose?” I flashed a smile to keep the honesty of the statement from corroding the remainder of my heart.

Her hand retreated. “Wow. I thought I was the only person at this school faking every moment.”

Craving more of her touch, I shifted on the floor so my arm touched her shoulder. Echo’s lips never moved, but my siren sang nonetheless. Her song seared my skin and my nose burned from her sugar and cinnamon scent.

Her back pocket vibrated, flinging me back to hell … sorry– high school. I needed one of Beth’s cigarettes and I didn’t even smoke.

She skimmed a text message on her iPhone. Probably that lucky son-of-a-bitch ape boyfriend. Any trace of the siren smile I worked so hard to put on her face faded. That in itself was a fucking tragedy.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. My stepmom stalking my every move,” she said with forced lightness.

I took a relieved breath. Better her stepmom than the ape. “At least you’ve got someone who cares.” I doubted Shirley or Dale knew I owned a cell phone. “I am sorry for making you cry earlier. I promise I’ll play nice in the future.”

“Does this mean that I’m actually tutoring you now?”

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

Echo pulled her sleeves over her hands. “You didn’t make me cry. You didn’t help, but you didn’t make me cry.”

She had exposed her hands while she tutored me—when she touched me. Shit. I’d forgotten about her scars. Hell, she’d forgotten about her scars—until now. I wanted that moment back, and to see her smile again. “Then who did? It’s been a while since I’ve been in a fight. My rep will be ruined if I’m good for too long.”

She fought it, but I won. The smile returned for a brief dazzling moment. “You’d be expelled if you got into a fight with Mrs. Collins. So thanks, but no, thanks.”

I hit the back of my head against the locker. “She fucked with me today, too. Must be a third date thing.” I chuckled when Echo looked at me like I’d tattooed my forehead.

“Third date thing meaning what?”

Did she live in a box? “After the third date, people generally have sex. Today was my third session and Mrs. Collins royally screwed me over. And by the looks of it, she did a number on you, too.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed as she ran through what I said. I loved how her lips twitched in humor and a blush touched her cheeks.

“You know what sucks?” she asked.

“Mrs. Collins?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I meant. Everything I need to know is in that freaking file she keeps on me. It’s like the key to the magic door that opens the magic kingdom.” She kicked her backpack across the hall. “I could finally find some real peace if I could get my hands on that stupid, stupid folder.”

As she spoke, my mind whirled like a tornado. Mrs. Collins was in touch with Tyler and Jacob’s foster parents, which meant she had their information: their last names, their phone number, their address. Echo was right. Those files were a gold mine. If I got my hands on my folder, I could check on my brothers. I could prove they were in an abusive home and gain custody. “You, Echo, are a genius.”

Echo

Stage one of Operation Read My File consisted of my father, Ashley and me waiting for Mrs. Collins to call us in for our meeting. My father stood in the corner, speaking harshly to someone on the other end of his BlackBerry while Ashley and I sat next to each other on the row of chairs.

Ashley flung her hand over her stomach. “Oh. Oh, Echo, the baby kicked.”

“You can come in now,” called Mrs. Collins.

I flew out of my seat. “Thank God.” For months, Ashley had bored everyone with endless baby chatter. Okay, maybe not everyone. My father hung on her every word like she was Paul preaching the gospel. He’d never paid this much attention to my mother. If he had, I wouldn’t be the school freak.

Three weeks ago, Mrs. Collins had begun the term wearing business suits and then jeans and a nice shirt on casual Fridays. Each week casual Friday moved up a day. Today, Tuesday was the new Friday. From behind her desk, she flashed her never-ending smile. “Mr. and Mrs. Emerson, how wonderful to see you, but our group session is next week.”

With eyebrows raised, my father sent a questioning glance to Ashley, who sat stunned with her mouth open. “No. The family calendar clearly stated …”

I cut her off. “I told them to come this week.”

Mrs. Collins did that weird thing where she shifted her entire mouth to the right. “I know we had a rough session last week, but did you really think you needed to bring bodyguards?”

“Echo?” My father asked. “What happened last week?”

My heart squeezed and dropped. His concern sounded real. I’d give anything if it was. I stood and walked to the window. Students mingled in the parking lot before heading home. This session had the possibility of stinking as much as last week’s. “Something good.”

“That’s fantastic. This family needs good news.” Ashley’s perky voice grated like sandpaper against my skin. “I read in a magazine that babies can sense negativity.”

A car pulled out of its spot, revealing Noah sitting on the hood of his rusting car next to some guy with lots of earrings and tattoos and biker chick Beth. His two friends stared at me when he gave me his mischievous grin. His friends gave me the creeps. Noah’s smile gave me flutters.

Not that I should have flutters for Noah Hutchins. I was dating Luke, not him—that is if you called Luke’s one-sided nighttime phone conversations and a single awkward group outing to the local pizza place dating.

I sighed and shook Luke out of my head. Noah and I had made a deal and I intended to uphold my end of the bargain. The plan was simple: I needed to push back my appointment so he could move his session from the morning to my current afternoon slot. With our appointment times near each other, one of us would distract Mrs. Collins while the other snuck a peek at the files.

“Echo?” my father prodded, the hint of concern still present. “What’s good?”

Inhaling deeply to calm the nerves squeezing my stomach, I turned to face him. I loathed confrontation and I hated confrontation with my father more. “Why didn’t you tell me I won the Governor’s Cup?”

“Excuse me?” No concern left in my father’s tone now.

A twinge of hurt joined the nerves. Why, on top of everything else, did he take art away from me, too? “I wanted to win so badly. You could have at least told me that much.”

Mrs. Collins eyed me warily and kept her hands folded on her lap. I expected her to jump in and defend herself, but she remained annoyingly cool. Ashley placed her hand over my father’s. “Owen?” Was that guilt flickering in her blue eyes?

Scaring the crap out of me, he turned an unusual color of gray. “You remember?” His eyes grew round, making him look lost and terribly sad.

I thought he wanted me to remember. My forehead wrinkled in confusion. Wasn’t that the point of all this therapy?

Gray turned to red as he faced Mrs. Collins. “This is unacceptable. We saw two psychiatrists and had three separate psychological evaluations. Each of them had a different opinion of how to proceed, but after her breakdown, every single one of them told us to leave that day alone. I knew when you asked for that ribbon to put in this room we should have opted out of your program. How could you force her to remember?”

“I didn’t force anything, Mr. Emerson. I simply placed the ribbon on the desk during her sessions. It’s called desensitizing. Her mind decided it was safe to remember, so she did.”

Springing from his chair, my father ran a hand through his hair. “My God, Echo. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? You have to understand …”

“Mr. Emerson, stop!” Mrs. Collins tried to keep her voice level, but I felt the slight urgency in her tone. “She only remembered receiving the ribbon. That’s all.”

My father’s chest rose and fell rapidly. He reminded me of one of those paper bags people blow into during a panic attack. Then, as if to prove the impossible possible, he pulled me into him and hugged me. One of his arms wound around my back. His other hand cradled my head against him. I stood stiff.

Yet I felt warm. Secure. Safe. Like when I was a child and my mother spiraled into an episode and I was scared. Memories of my mother wide-eyed, yelling incoherently, her wild, red hair falling from a ponytail filled my mind. I used to run to my father and he would hold me—just like this. He protected me and kept me safe. I listened to his heart beating and I almost allowed myself to hug him back. Stilettos clicked against the floor when Ashley fidgeted.

Unbelievable pain stung my heart and I pushed him away. “You chose her.”

My father held a hand out to me, his mouth hanging open. “What?”

“You chose Ashley. She weaseled her way into our home and she tore our family apart. You chose her over us.”

“Echo, no. It wasn’t like that.” Ashley’s plea was pathetic and fake. “I loved you and then I fell in love with your dad. Your parents’ marriage was over way before the divorce.”

My foot tapped the floor. Liar. She was a liar. “Yes, because of you.”

“We’re going home. This is a family matter.” My father reached for his jacket and Ashley stood. “Mrs. Collins, I appreciate the state’s willingness to place Echo in your program, but I believe it’s best if my family seeks private counseling someplace else.”

I panicked. In the parking lot, Noah was waiting for his turn to set our plan into motion. So far, I’d failed miserably. My father needed to stay until I accomplished my goal. In theory, I had one ally in this room. “Mrs. Collins?”

She gave me a nod. “Mr. and Mrs. Emerson, with all due respect this is exactly the kind of matter that should be discussed here.”

My father held out Ashley’s coat for her. “I’m capable of deciding what’s appropriate for my family. My divorce from my ex-wife and my marriage to Ashley have nothing to do with Echo’s memory loss.”

“I beg to differ. They’re issues Echo needs to deal with.”

Oh, God. They were going to leave and I’d never learn what happened to me. I had to say something to keep them in the room. “I like her.”

All three adults froze. “That’s why I brought you here.” I focused on the words I’d practiced since Noah and I had come up with the plan. “I wanted to tell you that I like the job Mrs. Collins found for me and that I’m done lying to her. I’m not fine and I’m not happy at home. I like her and I want to keep seeing her.”

And oddly enough, I didn’t blink.

Mrs. Collins’s lips turned up, the exact reaction I hoped for. In order for Noah’s plan to work, she needed to think I trusted her. Now, if I could build a time machine, go back to twenty minutes ago, and stop myself from telling my father how I really felt, my plan would be back on track. Telling Ashley off felt good, but that only disappointed my father. I sighed. In an effort to make this up to him, I’d be the only college freshman still attempting a perfect ACT score.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I was out of line.” Ugh. I’d rather eat cockroaches than say this. “And you, too, Ashley. My comments to you were rude.” But true.

My father nodded and finished helping Ashley into her coat. “I don’t blame you, Echo.” He stared at Mrs. Collins, making it perfectly clear who he blamed for my outburst. “If you want to keep seeing Mrs. Collins then I’ll let you. On a trial basis only. That means these next few sessions will be scrutinized.”

Ashley rubbed her baby bump. “I’m glad you’re making progress, Echo. It was a wonderful day when you got that ribbon. It was the first time I ever felt like the three of us were a real family.”

“Why wasn’t my mom there?” Silence. Ashley’s hand froze mid-rub and my father stood motionless. I continued, “You said three. Mom would have never let you squeeze her out of that moment. She loved my paintings. She encouraged me more than the two of you combined.”

The black hole pulsed in my head and a faint memory squeezed out. “I invited her to the ceremony and she accepted.”

My mother’s overly excited voice filled my head. “I wouldn’t miss it, my little goddess.”

“You’re asking good questions, Echo, and I’m thrilled that you want to keep working with me. But I think we’ve had enough for today,” Mrs. Collins said, bringing me back to the present. “We can pick this up in another session.”

Speaking of another session … I was veering off course again. I had to set up Noah. “Daddy, there’s one more thing.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, no doubt praying for the day I would be off to college and out of his house. Then he could focus all of his attention on his new family—the replacement family. “Yes?”

“If it’s okay with Mrs. Collins, I want to move my counseling sessions back an hour. I’m thinking of rejoining the dance team or at least helping them with their routines.”

Ashley beamed and I considered taking the statement back if only to annoy her. The worry lines around my father’s eyes lessened and his mouth actually hinted at a smile. “Of course. Do you need money for a new outfit or costume?” He pulled his wallet out and held toward me green dollars with zeros.

I shook my head and smiled a little. I’d made my father happy. Part of me flew high in the sky. “No. No, thanks. I have plenty of stuff to practice in and I’m not sure about the costume thing yet. I may not even compete.”

“Take it anyhow—in case you need it.” He bounced his hand insistently. I took the cash, feeling a little ashamed and guilty. I’d never intended to rejoin the dance team—it was an excuse for Noah to rearrange his appointment time to my slot. Now, I had to accept Natalie’s offer. If rejoining the dance team made my father smile at me and not at Ashley for a few minutes, I’d do it.

“Echo, would you mind leaving me and Ashley alone with Mrs. Collins? There are some things I’d like to discuss.”

Uh—no. I hoped Mrs. Collins would tell my father whatever he had to say to her could be said in front of me, but no such luck. “Why don’t you wait in the main office? I’d like to schedule our next appointment before you leave.”

I shut the door behind me. With the staff gone for the day, the main office sat eerily quiet.

“Is it working?”

Startled, I knocked over a cup of pens on the counter. Noah leaned against the door frame, laughing.

I busied myself with picking them up. “I think so. My dad and Ashley are on board with me moving my time back, but Mrs. Collins hasn’t committed yet. Though I think I just rejoined the dance team. What are you doing here?”

“It’s cold outside and warm in here.”

Having nothing left to fidget with, I rested against the counter and tried not to stare at Noah. But I wanted to. He had his jacket off and his black T-shirt fit him perfectly. Today, during lunch, Grace had turned her nose up when she spotted the bottom of his tattoo on his right bicep. I’d silently agreed with Lila’s comment—yum.

My insides had melted when Noah produced his wicked grin and gazed at me like I was naked. Luke used to give me butterflies. Noah spawned mutant pterodactyls.

A cabinet door clicked closed in Mrs. Collins’s office and jolted me back to reality. “But what if Mrs. Collins sees you? We shouldn’t be seen together.”

He chuckled. “You’re my tutor, remember? She expects to see us together. Besides, I didn’t show for my session this morning and she sent me a note informing me that I was to come as soon as possible.” He held out his hands. “So here I am.”

“When did you get the note?”

“First period.”

I sucked in air. “And you’re just now showing up?” I couldn’t imagine missing a session, much less disregarding a request from an adult.

“It’s all part of the plan, Echo. Chill.”

Tapping my foot against the floor, I regarded the closed door. “You think she knows we’re up to something?”

Noah crossed the room. The back of my neck exploded in heat when his body brushed mine. In a movement so nonchalant, it signaled he was impervious to temperatures only known in the Sahara Desert, he leaned his hip against the counter. He rubbed one of my curls between his thumb and forefinger. “You are paranoid. I’m glad you didn’t get high with me. You’d be a major downer.” He let the curl drop.

I folded my hands across my chest, attempted to ignore the warmth filling my cheeks, and said as dryly as I could, “Thanks.” Nothing increased your confidence level like being insulted by a stoner.

Keeping time with my foot, my fingers drummed against my sleeve.

“What are you worked up about?”

“My dad and Ashley are in there with Mrs. Collins discussing me.”

Noah picked up a phone from behind the counter. “Wanna hear what they’re saying? I’ve watched Mrs. Marcos do this plenty of times. Mrs. Collins’s phone is screwed up and it doesn’t make the beeping noise anymore, so Mrs. Marcos has to introduce herself quickly.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Noah gently placed two warm fingers against my lips. He raised an eyebrow and flashed a pirate smile. “Shh.”

He removed his fingers, leaving my lips cold, and pushed buttons on the speakerphone. Adrenaline pumped in my blood and my head felt featherlight. I’d never done anything so wrong in my life. In order to hear better, I leaned in closer.

My father was speaking. “… don’t understand. If Echo wants to discuss her feelings regarding the divorce with you, that’s one thing. I’ll support any efforts to help her repair her relationship with Ashley. But you need to leave the rest alone. She’s obviously back on track. She makes straight A’s. She’s active in several clubs and rejoining the dance team.”

“Owen’s right,” Ashley said. “Socially, Echo is doing beautifully. She’s going out with her friends, talking on the phone and texting. She and Luke are dating again. It’s like she’s finally fitting back into her old skin.”

“What Ashley and I are trying to get at,” my father added, “is that Echo is becoming Echo again. Child Protective Services was right to get involved after what happened, but now, it’s overkill. Her mother is no longer an issue. Echo has this new job and, I’ll admit, you were right. Working toward repairing the car has given her a healthy way to grieve Aires. Therapy was needed when she couldn’t cope, but Echo is no longer simply coping. She’s living.”

“And her memory loss?” asked Mrs. Collins. “The nightmares? Her insomnia? The fact that Echo refuses to expose her arms to anyone?”

My stomach churned. I craved my father’s answer, but to my utter mortification, Noah Hutchins had already heard too much. I reached out to disconnect the line, but Noah shook his head and placed a steady hand on my back.

Dizzy from nerves, I swayed to the right. Noah took a small step toward me while guiding me into him using gentle pressure on my back. I shouldn’t be touching him, but I wanted to hear the answer and I needed someone to lean on. Just one time—this one moment only—would I rely on him. I allowed my muscles to relax when he combed his fingers through the curls hanging near my shoulder blades.

“Do you want my honest opinion, Mrs. Collins?” my father asked.

“Yes.”

“You’re right. She’s not one hundred percent, but she is doing better than she was a year ago. Leave the past alone. Let her try to move on with her life.”

“Without ever remembering?” Mrs. Collins pressed. “Without ever dealing with the emotions buried inside of her?”

“I think it would be best if Echo never remembered. I have a hard time understanding how her mother could hurt her. How can a child grasp the extent of the madness?” My father paused. “The nightmares are bad. Echo still has issues, but I’m concerned the truth will only hurt her, not help. Echo’s mind cracked when the first psychologist pressured her to remember. What if you pressure her and she cracks again? Are you willing to risk my child’s sanity?”

I clamped my hand over my mouth, to keep both words and vomit from coming out. Noah ended the call and placed the phone back on the other side of the counter. The room tilted and sweat formed between my breasts. Even my dad believed that if I tried to remember, I’d lose my mind … again.

“Echo?” Noah’s deep, raspy voice hummed inside of me, but I couldn’t look at him.

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head and withdrew into my hair.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

Noah brushed my hair behind my shoulder and tucked a straggling curl behind my ear. It had been so long since someone touched me like he did. Why did it have to be Noah Hutchins, and why did it have to be now?

“Look at me.”

I met his dark brown eyes. His fingers skimmed the back of my hand. The sensation tickled like a spring breeze yet hit me like a wave rushing from the ocean. His gaze shifted to my covered arms. “You didn’t do that, did you? It was done to you?”

No one ever asked that question. They stared. They whispered. They laughed. But they never asked. My entire world collapsed around me as I answered, “Yes.”