Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits, #1)(75)

Hard was an understatement, but it only showed how much I cared for her. “Do you think Mrs. Collins will blame me for your sudden urge to cut school?”

Echo opened her mouth to answer, but exhaled instead. I’d said it to lighten her mood, but she was too deep to see daylight.

I sat beside her. Unable to stop myself, I raked my hand through the curls flowing down her back. Touching her in this moment was a necessity. I liked the tombstone’s simplicity: Aires Owen Emerson: son, brother, Marine.

“What did you remember?”

She rubbed her chin against her clasped hands. “He left me there. At my mother’s. I called and he didn’t answer. He … um … didn’t.” Echo lowered her head.

I continued to comb through her silky hair and listened to the birds calling out to one another. Her shoulders never shook. No tears streamed down her face. The worst type of crying wasn’t the kind everyone could see—the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. For people like me and Echo, our souls contained more scar tissue than life.

She picked at the blades of grass. “I’m alone now. Aires is dead. Mom is God knows where. My friends … well … you know. Dad was a long shot, but I pretended I had him. I tried to become the daughter he wanted to love, but …” Echo shook her head. “It sucks to be alone.”

“Come here, baby.” And with my words, Echo leaned into me: soft, pliant, broken. “You’re not alone,” I whispered into her hair as I cradled her in my arms. “You’re not alone, because you have me.” And I love you, more than you could ever know.





Echo

Noah offered to call in to work so we could spend the evening together. A huge part of me hoped he would. I wanted to stay in his arms for the rest of my life. Because of that, it took every ounce of self-control to not jump on his offer. I knew he needed the money. Besides, Lila began texting me every two seconds the moment school let out.

“Your dad called my mom looking for you,” Lila said from my right. “She told him you were here.”

We sat on the massively wide stairs of her back deck, overlooking the field behind her house. Wind chimes tinkled with the gentle breeze and the sun kissed my bare arms. “Is he coming to get me?” He had to know I’d skipped school.

“No, but he did ask my mom to remind you that your curfew is midnight.”

The urge to laugh shook my body and the harder I tried to keep it in, the more powerful it grew. Finally, I let it out. Lila smiled at first and then began to laugh with me. “What’s so funny?”

I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes. “My father left me for dead and I’ve got a freaking curfew.”

Lila giggled. “That is kind of funny.” She sighed. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” And I didn’t. The mere idea of going home grated on my nerves like sandpaper. “You know what I do know?”

“What?”

I extended my arms. “I miss the feel of the sun on my skin. Just curious, how would you react if I wore short sleeves to school?”

Lila’s mouth twitched up. “No differently than if you wore long sleeves.”

“Grace would have a coronary.”

“Grace can go to hell.” Lila’s uncharacteristic outburst of anger surprised me. “We’ve got two months until graduation. You can live life to please everyone else or please yourself. Come next fall, I’ll be living large at the University of Florida and forgetting that I ever made friends with people like Grace. I’ve made my decision. What’s yours?”





NOAH


As soon as I finished my shower, I planned on calling Echo then heading to Antonio’s for the rest of the party. At eleven, Echo would easily still be awake. Hopefully, Lila had helped lessen the blow of her new memory. I shouldn’t have gone to work. I should have stayed with her. Man, I was a dick. I’d make it up to her tomorrow.

Three years ago, I’d imagined spending my senior year choosing where to play college ball, not negotiating my salary and benefits for becoming the day manager at the Malt and Burger. But how could I argue with a salary, insurance and steady hours? I wouldn’t break the bank though I could afford something small and decent for me and my brothers. I had a long list of things I preferred to do over flipping burgers. Flipping burgers and teaching people to flip burgers: my f*cking dream come true.

The hot water washed away the grease from my shift. Apartment hunting would be next: a two-bedroom, maybe one. I could sleep on the couch and give my brothers the bedroom. Either way, my apartment required a good showerhead and lots of scalding water to erase the flipping-burger tedium.

After ten minutes, the hot water faded, leaving only steam. The fog crept into the bathroom and into my brain. What was I doing? My mother had taken me to her office on campus at least once a month. “College is a must, even if you’re military bound. College first, then decide your future,” her smooth voice preached.

I wiped the mirror and saw my mother’s eyes staring back. “You didn’t tell me what the f*ck to do if you died.”

Water droplets hung in the heavy damp air and on my body. The heater in the basement pounded several times before kicking on, sending cooler air through the vent on the floor. I stood there staring, waiting for her answer.