Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1)

Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1) Page 13
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Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1) Page 13

“Don’t say you haven’t thought about it, man. She’s … How did Beth put it? Oh, she has a rocking body,” Isaiah said.

Beth slid her left hand underneath Isaiah’s elbow and flicked the lighter. Isaiah jumped out of the way, smacking the flames lapping his shirt. “You’re crazy.”

“Damn straight,” she replied.

The hallway finally emptied of students and teachers. Beth opened the side door, poked her head out and lit the cigarette. She took a long draw and blew the smoke out the door. “Maybe you’ve been alone for too long. Whatever happened to that Bella chick?”

“We ain’t living through Bella again. Remember how clingy she got?” said Isaiah.

She flicked the ashes. “Yeah, I forgot. Bella’s off the list. What about Roseanna? She basically ran out the door anytime Isaiah and I came downstairs.”

“I screwed Roseanna, not Noah. He had Rose.”

Our stroll down memory lane reeked like a garbage dump. “I’m not lonely and I don’t need a girl. Drop it, Beth.”

“I don’t mind if you hook up with Echo. Have at it. In fact, I’ll stay the night at my mom’s house and let Isaiah have the bedroom if you need an all-nighter with privacy. But here’s the truth, Noah. Echo might be on the outs since she became a cutter and all, but she’s still a popular chick. She’ll bail on you and treat you like shit in the end.” She took another draw. “There’s only so many times people like us can have our hearts ripped out. She’s a ripper.”

The muscles in the back of my neck knotted. “For the last time, I’m not screwing her or anyone else. But call her a cutter again and I’ll set fire to every single pack of cigarettes you buy.”

Beth laughed. “Jesus, Noah. You’ve got it bad. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“If you two are done, I’d like to get some lunch. Only thing left in the fridge this morning was a slice of bologna and mustard,” Isaiah said.

Beth flicked her cigarette out the door and shut it. “Mustard. I ate the bologna for breakfast.”

SHE NEVER CAME TO LUNCH. Her entire table full of porcelain doll rejects did, but not Echo. I didn’t sweat it, at first. I waited patiently for her to show in physics and then business technology. No show in either class. Echo’s favorite gal pals went out of their way to snub me, though. Each stuck their little china noses in the air while staring in my direction. I simply smiled, aggravating the shit out of them.

“‘Sup, man,” said Rico Vega, joining me in the back of Spanish class.

“‘Sup,” I answered. “How can they let you take Spanish when that’s what you speak half the damn time?”

“Why they let a bunch of gueros take English? You gringos gotta be stupid if you ain’t got it down in eighteen years.”

Before I could hand crap back to Rico, Echo entered the room. She had that bunny-locked-in-a-pet-store-cage look, but at least she made eye contact this time. Until her stuck-up friend breezed in and redirected Echo to a seat in front.

“Why Lila glaring at you, hombre?” asked Rico. “Though I wouldn’t mind a hot piece of culo like that acknowledging my existence.” Rico puckered his lips, sending a mock kiss in Lila’s direction. I laughed when she flipped her golden hair over her shoulder and stared at the dry-erase board.

Mrs. Bates, a real-life condom ad, waddled through the doorway. She was knocked up with triplets. “Hola. Today we are going to work on our conversational Spanish.”

Excitement rippled through the room. Conversational Spanish meant picking a partner and doing nothing for the rest of the period. Rico and I bumped fists. I needed some sleep.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited. I’ve already picked your partners. I expect to hear Spanish flowing in my room.”

She eased back into her chair and it squeaked when her ass hit the seat. “Lila McCormick—you’re partnered with Rico Vega.”

Lila groaned, “No,” while Rico pumped his fist twice to his heart and then raised a finger to the sky. “Gracias a dios.”

Lila approached the desk. “Please, Mrs. Bates. I’ll do anything. Let me and Echo partner.”

Mrs. Bates winced and rubbed a hand over her stomach. “Miss McCormick, do I look sympathetic to your plight? Go find a seat next to Rico. Noah Hutchins, you’re paired with Echo Emerson.”

Lila clutched her hair as her voice dropped. “No.”

Mrs. Bates continued with her list of assigned partners while Lila knelt next to her, begging for a change of heart.

Rico chuckled. “I’m off to peel my partner off the floor.” He yelled to Lila as he walked toward her, “Casate conmigo, diosa.”

Echo gathered her books and made the long trip down the aisle to me. The universe had a strange sense of humor. Last semester, Echo and I barely made eye contact. Now, we were thrown together at every turn. Not that I minded. She sat in Rico’s seat and stared at the fake wood desktop.

“First trip to the back?” I asked. Everyone partnered out, most moving their desks together so others couldn’t hear their screwed up Spanish. When she didn’t say anything back, I continued, “I’m impressed. The rule-follower skipped a few classes today.”

“No, not skipped. Mrs. Collins excused me so I could prep for the ACT this weekend.” She inhaled deeply, causing her cleavage to expand. Lines worried her forehead. “Noah, about yesterday …”

Echo had permitted me a peek into her world yesterday. The least I could do was let her into mine. Even if the thought made me nervous as hell. “Mi primer padre adoptivo me pegaba.” My first foster father hit me.

Her wide eyes met my gaze. “Lo siento.” I’m sorry.

I tapped my pencil against the desk and continued to speak in Spanish. “We’re even now. You’ve got dirt on me and I know something about you. No need to avoid me anymore.”

She bit her lip, translating in her head, before she replied, “Tú hablas bien el español.” You speak Spanish well. Echo sent me a soft, shy smile that told me we were beyond good.

“Mi madre era una profesora de español.” My mother was a Spanish professor. I’d never told anyone that before. Images of my mother laughing and speaking to me in Spanish filled my head.

“Mi madre era una artista. Muy brillante.” My mother was an artist. Very brilliant. Echo’s foot began to bounce under the desk.

We sat in silence. Murmurs of broken Spanish and English hummed in the room. Soon the pen she held in her hand drummed in time with her foot. I understood her rhythm. That feeling of everything inside twisting to the point that if you didn’t find a release you’d explode. I craved to grant her peace.

I placed my hand over hers. My own heart rested when I rubbed my thumb over her smooth skin. She dropped the pen and grasped her sleeve in her palm, her constant defense mechanism. No. If she grasped anything, it would be me. My thumb worked its way between her fingers and her sleeve and released her death grip on the material. I wrapped my fingers around her fragile hand. Touching Echo felt like home.

Her ring finger slid against mine, causing electricity to move through my bloodstream. She moved it again. Only this time the movement was slow, deliberate and the most seductive touch in the whole world. Everything inside of me ached to touch her more.

Beth had been both wrong and right. Echo couldn’t hurt anyone, especially when she seemed so breakable herself. But the need I felt to be the one to keep the world from shattering her only confirmed Beth’s theory. I was falling for her and I was fucked.

The PA system in the classroom beeped. Echo pulled her hand away from mine, ending perhaps the most erotic moment of my life. I shifted in my seat, trying to find my damn mind.

“Mrs. Bates?” called Mrs. Marcos through the loudspeaker. “I need Noah Hutchins to report to Mrs. Collins’s office.”

“You heard her, Mr. Hutchins. Get going.”

I had no doubt the head shrinker was ticked at me. I hadn’t waited around long enough yesterday to find out why I’d been summoned. When Echo left the office, I’d followed. Partly to make sure she made it to her car okay and partly because I was shaken from what I’d overheard. Dealing with Mrs. Collins required me to be one hundred percent and after learning about Echo, I hadn’t even been close to fifty.

I stood to leave, half relieved, half disappointed. I’d connected with the girl, but not in the way I intended. Echo placed her sleeve-covered fingers on my wrist. Her neck and cheeks flushed red. “I moved the appointment time. I meet with her at three forty-five on Tuesday afternoons instead of at two-thirty.”

Searching for a brief reminder of the moment we had lost, I brushed my thumb across her sleeved hand. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

WHEN I WALKED INTO THE MAIN office, Mrs. Collins stepped out of hers with her coat and purse in hand. “Great timing. I’m glad to see you have your coat—you’re going to need it.”

“What?”

She locked her office door. “We’re taking a field trip. Let’s go.”

Mrs. Collins brushed past me. My mind remained blank as I watched her walk down the hallway. For the first time, I missed the brain cells I’d fried.

“Come on, Noah.”

I caught up to her right as she walked out to the teacher parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“You didn’t show for your appointment yesterday morning, nor did you come when I requested.” She held out a remote and pushed a button. Lights flashed on a black Mercedes. Figured. “Irresponsible. Get in.”

I opened the door and was greeted by the smell of leather. My gut twisted. I’ve been down this road before. “I’ve got four months to graduation, they can’t move me again.” The mistake of becoming attached to Beth and Isaiah roared to life. Anger and hurt pricked my chest with needles. And Echo …

Mrs. Collins shut her door and leaned over the middle console. “Unless your current foster home has become a dangerous situation, you’re not being moved. Get in or you’ll miss the fun.”

Fun? I slid into the seat. The engine purred to life. She floored the accelerator and the car jerked forward. She took a hard right and the tires screeched when she pulled out onto the main road. I gripped the armrest. “Who the fuck gave you your license?”

“Watch your language, Noah, and the state of Kentucky. Why did you miss your appointment?”

I loved fast driving. Isaiah and I had drag raced all last summer. What I didn’t love was a middle-aged nut job who couldn’t steer straight. “You want to pull over and let me drive?”

Mrs. Collins laughed and cut off a tractor trailer merging onto the freeway. “You’re a riot. Focus, Noah. The appointment.”

Oh—yeah. Echo had gone through hell to move her appointment. I could, at least, change mine before I became part of a fireball when we hit that tanker. “I work most evenings and close the place. It’s hard to get up in the mornings. I was wondering if we could move our session to right after school.”

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