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“Your turn to answer a question,” she said.
“Shoot. ”
“Why do you want to see your file?” She aimed for the eight ball and sank the shot.
No one, except Keesha or Mrs. Collins, had asked me a question that personal in years. I placed two more quarters into the table. “Are you going to tell me why you want to see yours?”
Echo arranged the balls again. “You already know most of it. You break this time. ”
Feeling off balance, I leaned on the pool stick. “I have two younger brothers. Jacob’s eight and Tyler’s four. We were separated after my parents died. They’re in a shitty home. I want to prove it and hopefully win custody of them after I graduate. That file lists where they live. If I can catch these bastards hurting my brothers, then I can get them out, and make us a family again. ”
I broke the balls with more strength than I’d intended. I couldn’t get the picture of Tyler’s bruised face out of my head. My brothers wouldn’t become victims like Beth or turn into hard-asses like me. The cue ball bounced several times after hitting the group of balls. “Solids. Your turn to answer. ”
“My mom hurt me and I don’t remember it. ”
She sounded detached, but I knew she wanted in her file as much as I wanted in mine. I’d told her my story, I wanted hers. “Tell me what you do know. ”
Echo rolled the pool cue in her hand. “I don’t know you well enough. ”
How the hell would I get her to trust me? On some level, she did. But not like I wanted her to. My reputation with girls at school preceded me like cheerleaders in front of a marching band. Shit, what if she did trust me? What would I do with it?
I rested my hip against the pool table. “What if we only have one shot at those files? I’m not telling you my personal shit because I’m into group therapy, I’m telling you because if you have the opportunity to get into the files, I need you to find my brothers’ foster parents’ information. Last name, address and phone number. If I get a crack at yours, what am I looking for?”
Damn if she didn’t turn into a vampire. Absolutely no blood remained in her gorgeous face. “Swear you won’t tell anyone. ”
What could be worse than being called a cutter? “Whatever it is …”
“Swear it,” she hissed. The tilt of her head, the way her eyes flashed a deep green and narrowed like a savage animal’s warned me that a joke may not be the smartest move.
“I swear. ”
Echo left her pool stick against the wall and walked to the table. It appeared all games were over for the night. She picked up the cue ball. “My mom is bipolar. You know, manic depressive. There are two types of bipolar and my mom is number one. Not like one is the bottom, one as in Category 5 hurricane, 10. 0 earthquake. She was misdiagnosed for years and then when I was six …”
Echo rolled the cue ball onto the table, hitting multiple balls. “She had a major breakdown and got help. My mother was great when she stayed on her meds. ”
She wrapped her arms around herself and stared down at the table. Her foot tapped against the floor. “I only know what little my dad and my friends told me. She came off her meds, went into a manic episode, I went to her apartment and she tried to kill me. ”
I was terrified to move, breathe, exist in this moment. On TV, teenagers were portrayed as happy, carefree. Echo and I would never know such a life. My parents died. I got screwed by a system supposedly in place to protect me. Echo … Echo was betrayed by the person who should have laid down her life to protect her.
She raised her hand like a claw to her forehead. “Do you know what it’s like to not remember something? My mother loved me. She wouldn’t hurt me. Do you know what it’s like to have horrifying nightmares night after night? I go to bed one night, my life perfect, and then wake up in agony two days later in a hospital and my whole world is torn apart. I need to know. If I know, maybe I’ll feel whole again. Maybe …”
Echo reminded me of the statue of a saint my mother had once placed in her flower garden. Arms outstretched, seeking an answer from a God that hated us both. “Maybe I’ll find normal again. ”
“Tell me about Aires. ” I grasped for any straw to help.
By pure miracle, my statement snapped her out of misery. She blinked, coming back to the beeping and ringing of the video arcade. “Aires loved cars. He salvaged this 1965 Corvette and spent years working on it. That’s why I’m tutoring you. I need to make money to finish fixing it up. ”
So she wasn’t some nerd looking for extra credit or service hours. She wanted to honor her brother—her family. Echo and I were more alike than I’d thought. “What’s wrong with it?”
She picked up her pool cue and placed it back on the rack. “I have no idea. For all I know, it needs twenty dollars in gas and new spark plugs. Or it could need something huge and expensive. I got a mechanic to come and look at it today, but I have a feeling he’s going to take me to the cleaners. ”
“I know a guy who’s a genius with cars. He’d love to be in the same zip code as a ‘65 Vette. Would you mind letting him have a crack at it?”
Her siren smile appeared and her eyes lit up the room. “Yes. Totally. Yes. ”
She’d probably lose some of that excitement once she met Isaiah. “Isaiah’s a little rough around the edges, but a good guy. I don’t want you to be shocked when someone like me shows up. ”
Her laughter sounded like music. “What, you don’t hang out with missionaries in your downtime? When the rest of us go home and slip into sweatpants and T-shirts, you kick back in a polo shirt and khakis. ”
