Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits, #1)(22)

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.”