Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits, #1)(11)

Had she lost her mind? “No way.”

“Come on,” she pleaded. “It’s your birthday tomorrow. We have to go out for your birthday.”

“No.” I wanted to forget that the day even existed. Mom and Aires used to make a holiday out of my birthday. Without them….

She clasped her hands together and placed them under her chin. “Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with hot fudge? Try it my way and if it doesn’t work I swear I’ll never bring it up again. And did I mention I overheard Ashley tell your dad that she wanted to take you out to dinner? At a restaurant. A fancy one. With five courses. One little yes to me and I can get you out of it.”

Dinner for the Damned on Fridays was bad enough. Dinner for the Damned in public would be inhumane. I took another deep breath. Lila had stuck with me through it all: my mother’s insanity, my parents’ divorce, Aires’ death and now this. She may not know it yet, but Lila was about to receive her birthday present. “Fine.”

She squealed and clapped her hands together. In one long, continuous sentence, she described her plans for the next night. Maybe Lila and Grace were right. Maybe life could go back to normal. I could hide my scars and go to parties and just lie low. Noah hadn’t told anybody and maybe he wouldn’t.

Besides, only four more months till graduation and after that I could wear gloves every day for the rest of my life.





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.”