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The clock on the wall flipped to nine in the morning. “Hell, this is early.”
Mrs. Marcos stepped around her new cherry desk to meet me at the counter. She gave me crap when I came in late, but I still liked her. With her long brown hair, she reminded me of a Hispanic version of my mother.
“You missed your appointment with Mrs. Collins this morning. Not a good way to start the second term,” she whispered as she wrote my tardy slip. She tilted her head toward the three adults huddled together in the far corner of the room. I assumed the middle-aged blond woman whispering to the rich couple was the new guidance counselor.
I shrugged and let the right side of my mouth twitch up. “Oops.”
Mrs. Marcos slid the tardy slip to me and gave me her patented stern glare. She was the one person at this school who didn’t believe that me and my future were completely fucked.
The middle-aged blonde called out, “Mr. Hutchins, I’m thrilled you remembered our appointment, even if you are late. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind taking a seat while I finish a few things.” She smiled at me like we were old friends and spoke so sweetly that for a moment, I almost smiled back. Instead, I nodded and took a seat on the line of chairs pushed against the office wall.
Mrs. Marcos laughed.
“What?”
“She’s not going to put up with your attitude. Maybe she’ll convince you to take school seriously.”
I rested my head against the painted cinder-block wall and shut my eyes, in need of a few more hours’ sleep. Short one person for closing, the restaurant hadn’t let me go until after midnight, and then Beth and Isaiah kept me up.
“Mrs. Marcos?” asked an angelic voice. “Can you please tell me the upcoming dates for the ACT and SAT?”
The phone rang. “Wait one sec,” said Mrs. Marcos. Then the ringing ceased.
A chair down the row from mine shifted and my mouth watered from the aroma of hot cinnamon rolls. I snuck a peek and noticed red, silky, curly hair. I knew her. Echo Emerson.
Not a cinnamon roll in sight, but damn if she didn’t smell like one. We had several of our main courses together and last semester one of our free periods. I didn’t know much about her other than she kept to herself, she was smart, a redhead and she had big tits. She wore large, long-sleeved shirts that hung off her shoulders and tank tops underneath that revealed just enough to get the fantasies flowing.
Like always, she stared straight ahead as if I didn’t exist. Hell, I probably didn’t exist in her mind. People like Echo Emerson irritated the crap out of me.
“You’ve got a fucked-up name,” I mumbled. I didn’t know why I wanted to rattle her, I just did.
“Shouldn’t you be getting high in the bathroom?”
So she did know me. “They installed security cameras. We do it in the parking lot now.”
“My bad.” Her foot rocked frantically back and forth.
Good, I’d succeeded in getting under that perfect facade. “Echo … echo … echo …”
Her foot stopped rocking and red curls bounced furiously as she turned to face me. “How original. I’ve never heard that before.” She swept up her backpack and left the office. Her tight ass swayed side to side as she marched down the hallway. That wasn’t nearly as fun as I’d thought it would be. In fact, I kind of felt like a dick.
“Noah?” Mrs. Collins called me into her office.
The last guidance counselor had major OCD issues. Everything in the office perfectly placed. I used to move his plaques just to mess with him. There’d be no such entertainment with Mrs. Collins. Her desk was a mess. I could bury a body in here and no one would ever find it.
Taking the seat across from her, I waited for my ass-chewing.
“How was your Christmas break?” She had that kind look again, sort of like a puppy.
“Good.” That is if you considered your foster mom and dad getting into a screaming match and throwing everyone’s gifts into the fireplace a good Christmas. I’d always dreamed of spending my Christmas in a hellhole basement watching my two best friends get stoned.
“Wonderful. So things are working out with your new foster family.” She said it as a statement, but meant it as a question.
“Yeah.” Compared to the last three families I had, they were the fucking Brady Bunch. This time around, the system had placed me with another kid. Either the people in charge were short on homes or they were finally starting to believe I wasn’t the menace they’d pegged me to be. People with my labels weren’t allowed to live with other minors. “Look, I already have a social worker and she’s enough of a pain in my ass. Tell your bosses you don’t need to waste your time on me.”
“I’m not a social worker,” she said. “I’m a clinical social worker.”
“Same thing.”
“Actually, it’s not. I went to school for a lot longer.”
“Good for you.”
“And it means I can provide a different level of help for you.”
“Do you get paid by the state?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t want your help.”
Her lips flinched into an almost smile and I almost had an ounce of respect for her. “How about we shoot this straight?” she said. “According to your file you have a history of violence.”
I stared at her. She stared at me. That file was full of shit, but I learned years ago the word of a teenager meant nothing against the word of an adult.
“This file, Noah.” She tapped it three times with her finger. “I don’t think it tells the whole story. I talked to your teachers at Highland High. The picture they painted doesn’t represent the young man I see in front of me.”
I clutched the spiral metal binding of my calculus notebook until it stabbed the palm of my hand. Who the hell did this lady think she was digging into my past?
She flipped through my file. “You’ve been bounced around to several foster homes in the past two and a half years. This is your fourth high school since your parents’ death. What I find interesting is that until a year and a half ago, you still made the honor roll and you still competed in sports. Those are qualities that don’t usually match a disciplinary case.”
“Maybe you need to dig a little further.” I wanted this lady out of my life and the best way to do that was to scare her. “If you did, you’d find out I beat up my first foster father.” Actually, I had punched him in the face when I caught him hitting his biological son. Funny how no one in that family took my side when the cops arrived. Not even the kid I defended.
Mrs. Collins paused as if she was waiting for me to give her my side of the story, but she was sadly mistaken. Since my parents’ death, I’d learned that no one in the system gave a crap. Once you entered, you were damned.
“Your old guidance counselor at Highland spoke highly of you. Made the varsity basketball team your freshman year, honor roll, involved in several student activities, popular amongst your peers.” She surveyed me. “I think I would have liked that kid.”
So did I—but life sucked. “Little late for me to join the basketball team—halfway through the season and all. Think coach will be fine with my tattoos?”
“I have no interest in you re-creating your old life, but together I think we can build something new. A better future than the one you will have if you continue down your current path.” She sounded so damn sincere. I wanted to believe her, but I’d learned the hard way to never trust anyone. Keeping my face devoid of emotion, I let the silence build.
She broke eye contact first and shook her head. “You’ve been dealt a rough hand, but you’re full of possibilities. Your scores on the aptitude tests are phenomenal and your teachers see your potential. Your grade point average needs a boost, as does your attendance. I believe those are related.
“Now, I have a plan. Along with seeing me once a week, you will attend tutoring sessions until your G.P.A. matches your test scores.”
I stood. I’d already missed first period. This fun little meeting got me out of second. But since I’d actually gotten my ass out of bed, I intended to go to class sometime today. “I don’t have time for this.”
A slight edge crept into her tone, so subtle I almost missed it. “Do I need to contact your social worker?”
I headed for the door. “Go ahead. What is she going to do? Rip my family apart? Put me in the foster care system? Continue to dig and you’ll see you’re too late.”
“When was the last time you saw your brothers, Noah?”
My hand froze on the doorknob.
“What if I could offer you increased supervised visitation?”
I let go of the doorknob and sat back down.
Echo (#ulink_e5ae0da4-9628-541f-8afb-5fca2e7b2d82)
If only I could wear gloves every moment of the day, I’d feel more secure, but the stupid dress code wouldn’t let me. Because of this, my wardrobe consisted of anything with long sleeves— the longer the better.
I clutched the ends of my sleeves and pulled them over my fingers, causing my blue cotton shirt to hang off my right shoulder. My freshman year, I would have freaked if people stared at my white skin and the occasional orange freckle. Now, I preferred for people to look at my bare shoulder instead of trying to catch a glimpse of the scars on my arms.
“Did she say who it was? I bet you it’s Jackson Coleman. I heard he’s failing math and if he doesn’t get his grades up he’ll lose his scholarship to college. God, I hope it is. He is so hot.” My best friend, Lila McCormick, took her first breath since I’d given her the rundown on my counseling session and the tutoring job Mrs. Collins spontaneously created. With her nonstop mouth and tight clothes, Lila was Eastwick High’s own version of Glinda the Good Witch. She floated in her own beautiful bubble spreading happiness and cheer.
As Lila moved her tray down the lunch line, the smell of pizza and French fries made my mouth water, but the nausea roiling in my stomach kept me from buying food. My heart thundered and I hugged my sketch pad closer to my chest. I couldn’t believe I was actually in the lunchroom. Lila and I had been best friends since preschool and the one thing she’d asked of me for Christmas was that I ditch the library and reclaim my old spot at our lunch table.
It may have sounded like an easy request, but it wasn’t. The last time I’d eaten lunch in the cafeteria was at the beginning of May during my sophomore year: the day before my entire world fell apart. Back then, no one stared at me or whispered.
“Who’s hot?” Natalie cut the line by sliding her tray between me and Lila. A group of guys behind us groaned at her boldness. As usual, she ignored them. Natalie was the second of two people who refused to treat me like a social pariah because of the gossip flying about me at school.
Lila pulled her sleek golden hair into a ponytail before paying the cashier. “Jackson Coleman. Echo is going to tutor some lucky guy and I’m guessing it might be him. Who would you like to add to our list of hot yet stupid boys?”
I followed them to the lunch table as Natalie’s eyes roamed the cafeteria, searching for the right combination. “Nicholas Green. He’s dumber than dirt, but I could eat him for dessert. If you’re tutoring him, Echo, think you could introduce me?”
“Introduce who to who?” asked Grace. Natalie and Lila took their seats and I hesitated.
Grace’s smile fell when she spotted me. She was the main reason why I didn’t want to return to the lunchroom. We were total best friends before the incident and, I guess, even after. She visited me every day in the hospital and at home during the summer, but when our junior year began and my social status took a nosedive, so did our friendship … in public that is. In private she claimed to love me like a sister. Everyone else at school treated me like I didn’t exist.
“Natalie to Nicholas Green.” Lila patted the seat between her and Natalie. Attempting to hide, I dropped into the chair, slouched and propped my sketch pad against the edge of the table.
The other girls whispered to each other as they glimpsed me. One giggled. From the time I’d come back to school, I never had a social shot. The rumors about why I was absent for the last month of my sophomore year ranged from pregnancy to rehab to attempted suicide. My gloves became the kindling and my memory loss the match. When I returned that fall, the rumors exploded into a firestorm.
Lila continued her explanation. “Echo’s going to be tutoring some dumb hottie. We’re trying to guess who it will be.”
“Well, don’t hold out on us, Lila. Who is Echo tutoring?” Grace’s eyes flickered from Lila to the girls on her squad sitting at the table. When we’d returned for junior year, Grace had found out she had a shot at making head cheerleader—a difficult feat since she’d always hovered in the periphery of popular in that crowd. I’d assumed things between us would go back to normal once she was voted in. I’d been mistaken.
“Ask Echo.” Lila’s teeth crunched into the apple, her hardened gaze locked on Grace. Our table became eerily silent as the most beautiful girl at school openly defied the most popular girl at school. A lull fell over the cafeteria as the student body prepared to watch the showdown in progress. I would have sworn a tumbleweed blew past the table and that weird Western whistle song played on the loudspeaker.
I gave Lila’s foot a nudge, begging her in my mind to answer for me, instead of forcing Grace to acknowledge me in front of other people. Seconds ticked by as neither flinched in the stare-down.
I couldn’t take it. “I don’t know. I meet him this afternoon.” Mrs. Collins didn’t want to say who I’d be tutoring. She’d mumbled something about smoothing over a few details with him before we met.
Movement and chatter resumed in the cafeteria. The muscles in Grace’s face relaxed and she took a relieved breath before taking stock of the reaction of her public friends. “I’ll play guess the stupid hunk.” She sent me a private wink. For the billionth time, I wished my life could go back to normal.
When Grace threw out a name the rest of the group also decided to play. I sketched Grace as they talked. Her new short blond haircut framed her face perfectly. I listened to their name-dropping and the new school gossip that accompanied their guesses.
“Maybe Echo’s tutoring Luke Manning,” Lila said with a not-so-gentle nudge of my arm. “He fits hunk and less-than-bright.”
I rolled my eyes and did my best to fix the dark line her nudge had created on my drawing. Lila held on to the false hope that Luke, my boyfriend from my life before, still harbored feelings for me. She substantiated her claim with made-up stories of how he watched me when I wasn’t paying attention.
“Luke and Deanna broke up over the winter break,” said Grace. “Deanna says she broke up with him. Luke says he broke up with her. Who knows if we’ll ever find out the truth?”
“Who would you believe, Echo?” Natalie asked. Gotta give her credit. She wanted me to participate in the conversation, regardless of whether I wanted to be included.
I focused on shading the shadow Grace’s hair created against her ear. After meeting Luke in freshman English, I’d dated him for a year and a half. This made me the table’s Luke expert. Since our breakup, every table with a female contained a Luke expert. “Hard to say. I broke up with Luke and he didn’t claim any differently, but he’s changed a lot since then.”
“Noah Hutchins,” Natalie said.
I stopped sketching, confused about what Noah had to do with Luke. “What?”
“Guess the hunk, remember? Noah Hutchins is definitely hot. I’d tutor him.” Lila stared over at the stoner table, practically drooling. How could she swoon over the guy who’d made fun of me?
Grace’s mouth gaped. “And take the social hit? No way.”
“I said I’d tutor him, not take him to prom. Besides, from what I’ve heard, quite a few girls have ridden that train and loved every second of it.”
Grace glanced at Noah, eyes wandering up, then down. “You’re right. He’s hot, and rumor has it he’s only into one-nighters. Though Bella Monahan tried to force a relationship. She followed him around like a pathetic puppy dog. He wanted nothing to do with her if it didn’t involve the backseat of his car.”
Lila loved dirt. “She lost her boyfriend, her virginity, her reputation and her self-respect in less than a month. That’s why she transferred to another school.”
Guys like Noah Hutchins ticked me off. He used girls, used drugs and had made me feel like crap this morning. Not that I should be surprised. I’d had a couple of classes with him last semester. He’d stride into the room like he owned the earth and smirk when girls fell all over themselves in his presence. “What a jerk.”
As if he heard me from across the room, his dark eyes met mine. His shaggy brown hair fell over them, but I could tell he was looking at me. The stubble on his face moved as he smiled. Noah had muscles, looks and trouble stalking him. Somehow, he made jeans and a T-shirt look dangerous. Not that I was into girl-using stoners. Yet, I took another peek at him while sipping my drink.
“Harsh words, Echo. You’re not talking about me, are you?” A chair scraped the floor. Luke flipped it around so he could straddle it between Natalie and Grace. Come freaking on. Luke and I had barely spoken a word to each other since we broke up sophomore year. Why was everyone pushing me into social mode today?
“No,” said Lila. “We talked about you earlier. Echo was calling Noah Hutchins a jerk.” I kicked her under the table. She sent me a glare in return.
“Hutchins?” Luke Manning: six foot two, built like a freight train with black hair, blue eyes, captain of the basketball team, hot and full of himself. To my horror, he sized Noah up. “What’s stoner boy done to deserve your wrath?”
“Nothing.” I returned to my sketch pad. My cheeks burned when one of Grace’s public friends mumbled something about my weirdness. Why couldn’t Lila, Natalie and Luke just leave me alone? The gossip only became worse when I crept out of my shell.
Unfortunately, Lila chose to ignore my red cheeks and my warning kick. “He made fun of Echo this morning, but don’t worry, she told him off.”
The pencil in my hand bowed from my tighter grip as I fought the urge to yank Lila’s gorgeous hair out of her head. My teachers and Mrs. Collins were so wrong. Interacting with my peers stunk.
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “What did he say to you?”
I stomped on Lila’s toes and stared straight at her. “Nothing.”
“He told her that she had an effed-up name and then did the stupid ‘echo’ thing people did in elementary school,” said Lila. Oh, God, I wanted to murder my best friend.
“You want me to talk to him?” Luke stared at me with a familiar hint of possessiveness. Both Grace and Natalie smiled like Cheshire cats. I refused to look at Lila, who bounced in her seat. Now I would never hear the end of her fantasies about Luke and me getting back together.
“No. He’s a stupid guy who said a stupid thing. He probably doesn’t even remember saying it.”
