Pushing the Limits. Katie McGarry

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       NOAH

      After school, I spotted Echo weaving through the crowded hallway. She swung into the main office seconds before I caught up to her. Tuesday was my only night off and I’d planned on shooting hoops with Isaiah. I slammed my fist into the locker beside me. Now I had to wait for some stuck-up head case to be done with her therapy appointment.

      I wandered the halls before settling across from Echo’s locker. She hadn’t had her backpack or coat with her, so I figured she’d have to come get them before she left for the day. Forty mind-numbing minutes later, I was questioning my decision. Echo had coat issues. Waiting by her car would have been smarter.

      Heels clicking against the linoleum floor signaled her approach. Echo’s red spiral curls bounced with each step. Clutching her books tight to her chest, she kept her head down. Every muscle in my body clenched when she walked past. I’d tolerated her ignoring me during school, but to flat-out diss me in an empty hallway was beyond cold. With her back to me, she tried the combination on her lock. The metal locker lurched open.

      “You are the rudest damn person I have ever met.” I shoved off the ground. Screw her, Mrs. Collins and tutoring. I’d find a way to bring myself to speed. “Give me my damn jacket.”

      Echo spun around. For a second, pure pain slashed her face, but then another storm brewed in her eyes. A storm that required hurricane warnings and evacuations. “No wonder you need tutoring. You have the worst vocabulary of anyone I know. Have you ever even bothered learning anything beyond four-letter words?”

      “I’ve got another four-letter word for you. Fuck you. You got back with your boyfriend and couldn’t stomach giving me my stuff in front of other people.”

      “You don’t know anything.”

      “I know crazy when I see it.” The moment the words flew out of my mouth I regretted them. Sometimes when you see the line, you think it’s a good idea to cross it—until you do.

      For the second time since meeting her, Echo looked as if I’d slapped her. Water pooled at the bottom edges of her eyes, her cheeks flushed red and she blinked rapidly. She’d succeeded in making me feel like a dick … again.

      She reached into her locker and flung my jacket at me. “You are such a jerk!” She slammed shut her locker and stalked off.

      Dammit. Just dammit. “Echo!” I ran after her. “Echo, wait.”

      But she didn’t. I caught up to her, grabbed her arm and turned her toward me. Dammit all to hell, tears poured down her face. What was I supposed to do now?

      She sniffed. “I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I didn’t see you.” She wiped the tears with the back of her hand. “I should have given you your jacket back yesterday, but …” Her slender white neck moved as she swallowed. “But I wanted normal and for a few minutes that’s what I was. Like two years ago … like before …” And she trailed off.

      If I’d had the thinnest chance at normal again, I would have burned the damn jacket. I was sure she wanted her brother back as much as I wanted mine. To have a home again, and parents, and dammit. Normal.

      I took a deep, pride-eating breath. In the wise words of Isaiah—poof. My muscles relaxed and my anger disappeared. Lowering her head, Echo withdrew into her hair. I would never understand why this girl made me grow a conscience. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

      She revealed her pale face and sniffed again. One red curl clung to her tearstained cheek. My hand reached out to release it, but I hesitated a mere heartbeat away from her skin. I swear to God she quit breathing and even blinking, and for a second so did I. In a deliberate movement, I freed the curl.

      She exhaled a shaky breath and licked her lips when I lowered my hand. “Thanks.”

      For the apology or the curl, I had no idea and wasn’t going to ask. My heart pounded in tune with thrash metal. We’d read about sirens in English this fall; Greek mythology bullshit about women so beautiful, their voices so enchanting, that men did anything for them. Turned out that mythology crap was real because every time I saw her, I lost my mind.

      Normal. She wanted normal and so did I. “You know what’s normal?”

      “What?” She wiped away her remaining tears.

      “Calculus.”

      No doubt, Echo Emerson equaled siren. She gave me the same smile I’d seen on Saturday night. That type of smile caused men to write those pussy-ass songs that Isaiah and I made fun of. I’d sit in Mrs. Collins’s office for hours and wake my ass up early to go to calculus in order to see that smile again. This was fucked up.

      “All right,” she said. “Let’s do normal.”

      And we did. For СКАЧАТЬ