Pushing the Limits

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 (#ulink_48c11a54-dee7-54bc-b05d-1b7f072c489a)

“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.”