“Want to sit?” I asked, knowing the answer. By standing next to my table, she was breaking a hundred of her stuck-up little friends’ social rules.
“No, my friends are expecting me.” She emphasized the word before purposely glancing over to the table of girls who stared at our interaction. Score one, Echo. I’d messed Saturday night up so badly she didn’t even consider us friends. Beth smiled and tauntingly waved at Echo’s table of gal pals. Echo cringed externally while I inwardly flinched.
“What do you need, Noah?” She stared at Beth while she asked and then let her eyes narrow on me.
“This is Isaiah.”
She raised both eyebrows. “Okay.”
“He’s going to look at Aires’ car after school. We can study at your house while he assesses what needs to be done.”
Her face brightened. “For real?”
“What’s for real?” asked a familiar voice. Dammit—the overgrown ape. Just when I’d started to manipulate Echo back into my corner, her loser boyfriend swooped in and draped an arm around her shoulder.
Echo continued to beam. “Isaiah’s going to look at Aires’ car for me.”
The corners of my mouth turned up as Luke’s turned down.
“When?” he asked.
“Today. After school,” answered Isaiah. He shifted in his chair to let Luke have a good look at him, earrings, tattoos and all his punked-out glory.
“Echo!” called one of her friends.
She glanced behind her, then rifled through her backpack. “I’ll be leaving after lunch for an appointment and won’t be back, but after school will totally work.”
Echo bent over and scribbled her phone number on a napkin. Her shirt dipped, exposing a hint of her cle**age. The glare I gave Isaiah warned him off from looking and the smile I sent Echo’s ape boyfriend when she slid the napkin to me made the ape’s fist curl.
“My phone will be off,” said Echo. “But text me your number so I can give you directions. See you guys after school.” She took a step, but Luke didn’t follow. “You coming?”
“I’m going to grab something to eat first.”
Echo bit her bottom lip and stole a look at me before walking away. So I hadn’t screwed everything completely up. I had at least one more shot at Echo.
A chair scraped against the floor and Luke took a seat at our table.
“What is the deal with you popular people? Can’t you leave the losers alone?” mumbled Beth.
Luke ignored her. “We played basketball against each other freshman year.”
Both Beth’s and Isaiah’s heads snapped toward me. I never discussed my pre–foster care life. I folded my arms across my chest. “Yeah. We did.”
“I defended you and you kicked my ass. Your team won.”
He brought up that game like it was yesterday. For me, it was eons ago. Those memories belonged to a boy who died alongside his parents in a house fire.
When I didn’t respond he continued, “You won that day, but you ain’t winning now. She’s mine. Not yours. Are we clear, amigo?”
I chuckled. “Way I hear it, Echo’s fair game. If you’re not man enough to keep her satisfied, well …” I held my hands out to let my reputation speak for itself.
Luke sprang from his seat, face flushed red. “You go near her and I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
Homecoming king probably never fought a day in his life. His body shook. I stayed seated, knowing my calmness would scare him more. “Bring it. I’ll kick your ass like I did in basketball. Only this time, no referee is going to save you.”
Luke slammed his chair into our table and stalked away. Beth and Isaiah broke out into laughter. I joined them until I noticed the horror on Echo’s face. Before I could move, she sprinted from the lunchroom. Dammit.
ECHO LIVED IN ONE OF THOSE nice neighborhoods. Not the rich fancy kind, but the ones with large trees in the front yard, amateur but nice landscaping, two-story brick fronts and porches with swings. I used to live in a place like this—before. I bet it looked real pretty in the spring. Probably smelled like daffodils and roses—like my house used to. Now, all I could smell was dirt and cold. February sucked.
The two-car garage door opened when we shut our car doors. Echo had parked her Dodge Neon on a narrow strip of concrete next to the house, leaving the red Corvette as the only car in the garage. From the driver’s side, one of Echo’s jean-clad legs dangled.
“I’ve got a hard-on just looking at her, man,” said Isaiah as we strolled up the drive.
“You’re ate up,” I replied, hoping he meant the car, not Echo. I’d hate to throw down with someone I considered family.
Beth squeezed between me and Isaiah. “Sick in the head, more like it.”
“Both. Jesus, are those the original fenders?” Isaiah slid his hand over the body of the car.
I walked into the garage and into a bubble of warmth. A heater hung from the rafters, along with several shop lights. The moment the three of us entered, the garage door closed behind us. Wooden tool benches lined the left and back walls. Tools hung on pegboards. Pictures of cars and people littered the cabinents.
“Maybe you’d keep a girl if you touched her like that.” Beth leaned against a bench.
Isaiah smirked while inspecting the pinstriping. “I meet a girl that could purr like this kitten, I’d caress her all night.”