Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1)

Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1) Page 12

My mother’s overly excited voice filled my head. “I wouldn’t miss it, my little goddess.”

“You’re asking good questions, Echo, and I’m thrilled that you want to keep working with me. But I think we’ve had enough for today,” Mrs. Collins said, bringing me back to the present. “We can pick this up in another session.”

Speaking of another session … I was veering off course again. I had to set up Noah. “Daddy, there’s one more thing.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, no doubt praying for the day I would be off to college and out of his house. Then he could focus all of his attention on his new family—the replacement family. “Yes?”

“If it’s okay with Mrs. Collins, I want to move my counseling sessions back an hour. I’m thinking of rejoining the dance team or at least helping them with their routines.”

Ashley beamed and I considered taking the statement back if only to annoy her. The worry lines around my father’s eyes lessened and his mouth actually hinted at a smile. “Of course. Do you need money for a new outfit or costume?” He pulled his wallet out and held toward me green dollars with zeros.

I shook my head and smiled a little. I’d made my father happy. Part of me flew high in the sky. “No. No, thanks. I have plenty of stuff to practice in and I’m not sure about the costume thing yet. I may not even compete.”

“Take it anyhow—in case you need it.” He bounced his hand insistently. I took the cash, feeling a little ashamed and guilty. I’d never intended to rejoin the dance team—it was an excuse for Noah to rearrange his appointment time to my slot. Now, I had to accept Natalie’s offer. If rejoining the dance team made my father smile at me and not at Ashley for a few minutes, I’d do it.

“Echo, would you mind leaving me and Ashley alone with Mrs. Collins? There are some things I’d like to discuss.”

Uh—no. I hoped Mrs. Collins would tell my father whatever he had to say to her could be said in front of me, but no such luck. “Why don’t you wait in the main office? I’d like to schedule our next appointment before you leave.”

I shut the door behind me. With the staff gone for the day, the main office sat eerily quiet.

“Is it working?”

Startled, I knocked over a cup of pens on the counter. Noah leaned against the door frame, laughing.

I busied myself with picking them up. “I think so. My dad and Ashley are on board with me moving my time back, but Mrs. Collins hasn’t committed yet. Though I think I just rejoined the dance team. What are you doing here?”

“It’s cold outside and warm in here.”

Having nothing left to fidget with, I rested against the counter and tried not to stare at Noah. But I wanted to. He had his jacket off and his black T-shirt fit him perfectly. Today, during lunch, Grace had turned her nose up when she spotted the bottom of his tattoo on his right bicep. I’d silently agreed with Lila’s comment—yum.

My insides had melted when Noah produced his wicked grin and gazed at me like I was naked. Luke used to give me butterflies. Noah spawned mutant pterodactyls.

A cabinet door clicked closed in Mrs. Collins’s office and jolted me back to reality. “But what if Mrs. Collins sees you? We shouldn’t be seen together.”

He chuckled. “You’re my tutor, remember? She expects to see us together. Besides, I didn’t show for my session this morning and she sent me a note informing me that I was to come as soon as possible.” He held out his hands. “So here I am.”

“When did you get the note?”

“First period.”

I sucked in air. “And you’re just now showing up?” I couldn’t imagine missing a session, much less disregarding a request from an adult.

“It’s all part of the plan, Echo. Chill.”

Tapping my foot against the floor, I regarded the closed door. “You think she knows we’re up to something?”

Noah crossed the room. The back of my neck exploded in heat when his body brushed mine. In a movement so nonchalant, it signaled he was impervious to temperatures only known in the Sahara Desert, he leaned his hip against the counter. He rubbed one of my curls between his thumb and forefinger. “You are paranoid. I’m glad you didn’t get high with me. You’d be a major downer.” He let the curl drop.

I folded my hands across my chest, attempted to ignore the warmth filling my cheeks, and said as dryly as I could, “Thanks.” Nothing increased your confidence level like being insulted by a stoner.

Keeping time with my foot, my fingers drummed against my sleeve.

“What are you worked up about?”

“My dad and Ashley are in there with Mrs. Collins discussing me.”

Noah picked up a phone from behind the counter. “Wanna hear what they’re saying? I’ve watched Mrs. Marcos do this plenty of times. Mrs. Collins’s phone is screwed up and it doesn’t make the beeping noise anymore, so Mrs. Marcos has to introduce herself quickly.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Noah gently placed two warm fingers against my lips. He raised an eyebrow and flashed a pirate smile. “Shh.”

He removed his fingers, leaving my lips cold, and pushed buttons on the speakerphone. Adrenaline pumped in my blood and my head felt featherlight. I’d never done anything so wrong in my life. In order to hear better, I leaned in closer.

My father was speaking. “… don’t understand. If Echo wants to discuss her feelings regarding the divorce with you, that’s one thing. I’ll support any efforts to help her repair her relationship with Ashley. But you need to leave the rest alone. She’s obviously back on track. She makes straight A’s. She’s active in several clubs and rejoining the dance team.”

“Owen’s right,” Ashley said. “Socially, Echo is doing beautifully. She’s going out with her friends, talking on the phone and texting. She and Luke are dating again. It’s like she’s finally fitting back into her old skin.”

“What Ashley and I are trying to get at,” my father added, “is that Echo is becoming Echo again. Child Protective Services was right to get involved after what happened, but now, it’s overkill. Her mother is no longer an issue. Echo has this new job and, I’ll admit, you were right. Working toward repairing the car has given her a healthy way to grieve Aires. Therapy was needed when she couldn’t cope, but Echo is no longer simply coping. She’s living.”

“And her memory loss?” asked Mrs. Collins. “The nightmares? Her insomnia? The fact that Echo refuses to expose her arms to anyone?”

My stomach churned. I craved my father’s answer, but to my utter mortification, Noah Hutchins had already heard too much. I reached out to disconnect the line, but Noah shook his head and placed a steady hand on my back.

Dizzy from nerves, I swayed to the right. Noah took a small step toward me while guiding me into him using gentle pressure on my back. I shouldn’t be touching him, but I wanted to hear the answer and I needed someone to lean on. Just one time—this one moment only—would I rely on him. I allowed my muscles to relax when he combed his fingers through the curls hanging near my shoulder blades.

“Do you want my honest opinion, Mrs. Collins?” my father asked.

“Yes.”

“You’re right. She’s not one hundred percent, but she is doing better than she was a year ago. Leave the past alone. Let her try to move on with her life.”

“Without ever remembering?” Mrs. Collins pressed. “Without ever dealing with the emotions buried inside of her?”

“I think it would be best if Echo never remembered. I have a hard time understanding how her mother could hurt her. How can a child grasp the extent of the madness?” My father paused. “The nightmares are bad. Echo still has issues, but I’m concerned the truth will only hurt her, not help. Echo’s mind cracked when the first psychologist pressured her to remember. What if you pressure her and she cracks again? Are you willing to risk my child’s sanity?”

I clamped my hand over my mouth, to keep both words and vomit from coming out. Noah ended the call and placed the phone back on the other side of the counter. The room tilted and sweat formed between my breasts. Even my dad believed that if I tried to remember, I’d lose my mind … again.

“Echo?” Noah’s deep, raspy voice hummed inside of me, but I couldn’t look at him.

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head and withdrew into my hair.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

Noah brushed my hair behind my shoulder and tucked a straggling curl behind my ear. It had been so long since someone touched me like he did. Why did it have to be Noah Hutchins, and why did it have to be now?

“Look at me.”

I met his dark brown eyes. His fingers skimmed the back of my hand. The sensation tickled like a spring breeze yet hit me like a wave rushing from the ocean. His gaze shifted to my covered arms. “You didn’t do that, did you? It was done to you?”

No one ever asked that question. They stared. They whispered. They laughed. But they never asked. My entire world collapsed around me as I answered, “Yes.”

NOAH

I leaned against my locker, scanning the students heading to lunch. Isaiah and Beth stood across from me near the side doors, waiting for the hallway to clear. If Echo stopped by her locker before lunch, she had to walk this desolate area to reach the cafeteria. I needed to know if she’d pushed back her appointment. That’s what I told myself. Our plan wouldn’t work if she failed.

Honestly, she put me on edge. She’d refused to make eye contact with me during calculus and fled the room the minute the bell rang. After her admission yesterday, she left the office. One moment, she’d relaxed her warm body next to mine, taking my comfort and strength. Seconds later—gone.

“Are you even listening to me, man?” Isaiah asked. Two blondes walked past us, huddled together. One sneered as she stared at the sleeve of tattoos on Isaiah’s arms. He smirked while appraising their chests.

“Yeah.” No. Something about cars and his jacked-up job at the local auto shop.

“No, you’re not,” said Beth. “You’re looking for Echo Emerson.” She waggled her eyebrows. Part of me regretted asking her for Echo’s background. “Screwed her yet?”

“No.” The look I gave her made football players shit their pants. Beth simply shrugged and rolled her eyes.

She flicked the unlit cigarette she held in her hand, anxiously waiting for the teachers to go into the lunchroom so she could sneak open the side door. “What’s your obsession with her anyhow? Every time that girl comes around you stare at her like you’re the Coyote and she’s the Road Runner. Either fuck her or move on. You and the ex-popular chick will never be homecoming court material.”

We could have been. If life was different, if my parents had never died, if I’d never gotten screwed by the system, if … I shut down the ifs. “She’s my tutor, and she’s helping me out with some stuff. Leave it—and her—alone.”