I scanned the floor and within seconds spotted Noah’s, but mine sat there on her desk—open. It was there—every moment, every secret, every answer. Noah’s first. But my eyes drifted back to mine. The need to fill the black hole pressed upon me. But Noah needed small things—fast things—last name, address, phone numbers, and … I’d yelled at him. His first, then mine.
Crawling on my hands and knees, I snatched his file and quickly scanned the pages, searching for any trace of the names Jacob and Tyler. The first page—nothing. Second page—nothing. Third, fourth, fifth. I stared at my file. God, I was running out of time. Sixth page, seventh, eight. Ninth—Tyler and Jacob Hutchins. Placed in foster care by the state of Kentucky after the death of their parents. Currently placed with Carrie and Joe …
The door clicked open and I threw the file to the floor. “Echo, are you okay?”
I sat back on my knees. “I tried to get up, but got a little dizzy.” I blinked three times in a row.
She rushed over to me, concern ravaging her tone. “I am so sorry. Am I the worst therapist on the planet or what? Leaving you in here as weak as a kitten. Your father would have my license for sure.” Mrs. Collins helped me to my feet. “Let’s get you to the nurse’s office and let you lie down for a while. The bed in there should be more comfortable than the floor.”
“NOAH!” HE IGNORED ME THE first time I yelled his name. The nurse had finally released me with only ten minutes left of lunch. When I entered the cafeteria, he, Isaiah and Beth pitched their trash and left.
He may not have heard me call to him in the cafeteria, but I knew for sure he heard me in the hallway. I barely had the energy to run after him as the three of them headed to the lockers on the lower level. Clutching the railing for support, I dragged myself down the stairs. “Noah, please.”
They kept walking, but he glanced quickly over his shoulder then stopped dead in his tracks. He dropped his books and doubled back toward me, catching me as I stumbled down the last step. “What happened? You look like hell.”
Weak kitten? Try comatose jellyfish. My legs gave and Noah helped me sink to the floor. He sat beside me, one strong hand stroking my face. “You’re scaring the shit out of me.”
“Peterson. Tyler and Jacob’s foster parents are Carrie and Joe Peterson. I’m sorry. Mrs. Collins walked back in before I could get any more information.” I rested my hot face against the cool cinder-block wall. Oh—that felt so good.
“No apologies. I could kiss you right now.” Judging by the look in his chocolate-brown eyes, he meant it.
“Don’t. I think I’m gonna puke.” I loved the way his lips turned up—part mischievous smile, part man of mystery.
“Noah,” Isaiah called out. He and Beth waited at the other end of the hall.
His hand fell from my face and I inhaled air. We weren’t friends anymore. Why did that hurt my heart? “Go ahead. I’m fine.”
“I’ll be there in a few.” His eyes never strayed from me. “You got into your file then?”
“Never got a crack at it. I went for yours first.”
Noah ran a hand over his face. “Why? Why did you read mine first?”
“It was closer.” Because I needed to do this—for him. “Besides, I had a flash from that night. Not much, but it was enough to scare the crap out of me.” And add fuel to my nightmares for weeks. Who needed more than three hours of sleep a night? Not me.
The bell rang, dismissing lunch. Noah stood and helped me to my feet. “Come on, I’ll get you to class.”
I held on to his warm hand simply because I wanted to. “I’m going home. My mind’s a little fried. Mrs. Collins called Ashley to tell her that I’m on my way and she’ll probably go postal if I don’t show soon. I didn’t know I’d have to chase you the length of a football field.”
He squeezed my hand. “Yeah. Sorry. I was … being a dick.”
At least he admitted it. I let go of him and pushed open the side door. “It’s okay. Tell me on Monday what I missed in class.”
NOAH
“Make sure you talk about me. I want your brothers to know who I am when they come and live with you.” Beth became lost in a cloud as steam hissed and rose from the iron. She methodically slid the iron over the arms of my white button-down shirt.
“Will do.” I continued to scrub polish on the pair of black boots I’d found at the Goodwill. They fit, but were scratched to hell.
Isaiah flew down the stairs to the basement, swiped one of the boots and a rag, and joined me on the couch. “Why do you do this, man? They’re your brothers. They don’t give a shit if you show up in a pair of ripped jeans and an old T-shirt.”
“It’s not for them. It’s for my social worker and that stuck-up couple. Everything I do and say is judged. I need them to see me as an upstanding citizen.” To trust me to take care of the two most important people in my life.
“So …” Isaiah exchanged a glance with Beth. “What’s going on with you and Echo?”
The iron gurgled when Beth set it on the ironing board. She inspected the shirt for missed wrinkles before handing it to me. “What happened to business only? You know, hands and emotions off of Echo.”
I shrugged on the shirt. The warmth from the ironing eased some of the tension in my neck. “Still the plan.”
Beth plopped next to Isaiah, resting her head against him. “Then what the hell was yesterday?”
I had a hard time accepting a rubbing from the king and queen of denial. Isaiah and Beth lived in a strange world where emotions were left unsaid, yet the two gravitated together like a couple. My gut told me that one of these days I’d find them naked in bed. “Echo snuck a peek at my file and found my brothers’ foster parents’ last name. I may not be able to give her a relationship, but I can’t turn away friendship. Only a real friend would stick themselves out like that.”
“Or a girl who’s into you,” mumbled Beth.