Suddenly filled with the urge to beat my head against the wall, I slumped in the chair. I’d walked myself into this one. “Yeah, I did.” How the hell could I turn this back around to Echo?
Her puppy enthusiasm returned. “Jacob loves to write, but you know that already. Anyhow, Carrie and Joe let me read this endearing story about how your mom declared the first Friday of every month as family campout night. It sounded absolutely delightful. Was it fact or fiction?”
Mrs. Collins craved trust. I’d give the dog a bone. “Fact. My mom and dad started the tradition when I missed my first Tiger Scout campout because I got sick. That was Mom’s way of making me feel better.” She’d always found a way to make everything better.
“The rest of the story is also fact? The ghost stories, s’more making, everyone sleeping in the tent in the living room?” Mrs. Collins laughed. “You must have been a cool big brother.”
My grip on the invitation tightened. “Still am, but I can’t take credit. The campouts were all about my parents.”
“Then why were they upstairs instead of in the tent with your brothers the night of the fire?” Her eyes pierced through me. “I think you know why Jacob is having night terrors.”
I stood up. “I’ve got to get to work.”
“Noah, tell me about that night. Give me the opportunity to help your brother.”
“Like you’re helping Echo?”
Mrs. Collins blinked. Good—for the first time, I’d screwed with her. “That’s what I thought.”
WATER RUNNING INTO A STEEL sink mingled with the sound of banging as I walked into the classroom. The art teacher busied herself cleaning bowls while Echo sat on a stool with a wet paintbrush in hand. Several bright blue spots dotted her cheek and she created new ones when she absently tapped her index finger to her chin, causing the brush in her hand to mark her face in the same rhythm.
“May I help you?” The water turned off.
“I’m here for Echo.” Work would have to wait. If Echo had problems, I wanted to know.
Echo continued to tap her finger to her chin and created more dots on her face while she stared at the canvas. The intensity of her stare shocked me.
The art teacher stacked the bowls and walked toward the door. “She’s in the zone. Good luck getting her attention. Do me a favor. If she ends up painting her whole face, grab my camera from my desk and take a picture. I’ll add it to my collection.” She gazed at Echo and smiled. “I’ll title that one Smurf. Nice tats, by the way.”
“I’m focused, not deaf,” mumbled Echo after the teacher left. She put down the paintbrush and attempted to wipe her face with a rag.
The blue only highlighted the red in her hair. “You’re smearing it.”
“It’s a bad habit of mine.” Echo gave up, leaving the blue paint on her cheek. She hopped off the stool and stretched. “What are you doing here?”
The night sky stretched across Echo’s canvas. The curvature of the earth was lit on fire with bright yellows, reds and oranges. Bright blues quickly faded into darkness with stars glittering in the sky. Everyone said she was an artist, but I’d had no idea. “Echo, this is …”
“Crap.” She wrinkled her nose.
“No, really …”
“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What do you need?”
“You.”
I loved how her face glowed. She stood up on her tiptoes and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “If I do any more I’ll get paint on you.”
Everything Echo did or said became sexual in my mind, and I fought hard to expel the images of her naked and covered in paint. “Mrs. Collins snagged me an invitation to Tyler’s birthday party.”
“Really? That’s fabulous!”
“Yeah.” But not why I’m here. “She was browsing through your file and she looked kind of … worried.” Echo’s smile fell. Throughout the week, her spirits had lowered with each passing day, but I let it slide when she’d come to life for me. No more sliding. I wanted answers. “You haven’t been at lunch this week. What’s going on, baby?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
I snagged one of her belt loops and brought her body against mine.
“Noah, the paint.”
“Fuck it. I can change clothes.” I tugged on her chin to force her to face me. “I don’t know much about this boyfriend stuff, but I’m not only interested in kissing you.”
“I know, and that means a lot to me. It’s just … I’m buying Grace time.” She tried a half smile, but failed.
When she’d told me earlier in the week about her shitty little friend, my response made her cry. Luckily, I’m a quick learner, so I kept my mouth shut—at least when it came to Grace. “What’s got Mrs. Collins so down?”
“I don’t know.”
I took a deep breath to keep the anger under control. “Echo, if you can’t trust me …”
She raised her voice. “I don’t know! Mrs. Collins has gotten very serious, asking me more questions about Mom and what I think about restraining orders, and Dad and Ashley have taken annoying to a whole other level. They took my car away from me this morning and announced that they will be driving me to and from school. They made up some lame excuse and said they wanted to detail it. Who details a Dodge Neon? I’ll tell you— nobody. Ashley may be brainless, but even she knows that!
“Ashley answers every call at home and my cell phone has lost its service. Dad tells me he’s working on it, but I don’t believe him.”
Mrs. Collins talking to her about restraining orders? Her father taking away her ride and her means of communication? Red flags shot to the sky. Echo’s mother meant danger. “Has your mom contacted you?”
Her head fell back. “Not you, too.”
Well aware that wasn’t an answer, I felt a menacing coil churn inside of me. No one messed with my girl. “Echo?”