Echoes Marissa Lete (best ereader for students .TXT) 📖

tell Grace, or Leo, or some boy I liked? I shudder at the thought.

“I’m not sure I’d say Andy is someone you can count on,” Leo tells her when I don’t respond.

“He was, at first. He was the perfect guy, honestly,” Grace replies with a sad smile.

“Everyone is at first,” Leo fires back. “The more time you spend with someone, the more you learn who they really are.”

“Okay, guru Leo. Fill me with more of your wisdom,” Grace replies sarcastically.

Leo rolls his eyes at her and shakes his head.

“I’m not sure if I can even take advice from someone who’s so biased, anyway.” Grace’s tone tells me it’s meant to be a joke, but I can immediately see the tension forming in Leo.

“Biased or not, Leo has a point,” I jump in to avoid the direction I see this conversation heading. “The last time you two broke up was because Andy violated your trust, too. That’s not someone you should be thinking long term about.”

“The last time we broke up was because of a simple misunderstanding. And he broke up with me because I was stupid enough to snoop through his phone.”

“But there’s a reason you felt the need to go through his phone, right?” I reply.

“And some of the things you found didn’t exactly prove his innocence—let’s not forget about that, either,” Leo adds.

Grace just sighs. I can tell she’s not enjoying this conversation, so I change the subject by asking her about her costume progress for the Halloween dance. She welcomes the change, but as she goes into a detailed explanation about what she has and what she still needs, Leo’s words swirl through my mind.

The more time you spend with someone, the more you learn who they really are.

More time. Maybe that’s what I need to figure out this whole Maverick situation. More echoes, more information. Maybe with enough waiting, I’ll learn who he is and if he’s even real. But how long will it take to figure it out? A year has passed since the first echo I’d heard of him. Would it take an entire year of listening to finally understand?

✽✽✽✽✽

After school, Mom is in the kitchen cooking dinner and I’m sitting at the dining room table working on my Chemistry paper when I hear an echo of the front door opening from last year. I stop working, listening to the footsteps walking into the dining room. Then I hear the office door open.

“Laura, is that you?” Mom’s echo calls.

“It is!” my echo replies.

I’m already starting to gather my papers, ready to move into the office so that I can write my paper in the quiet, but I stop when I hear the next line.

“How was Louise’s?” Mom’s echo asks. I think back, trying to remember if I’d ever been there before last week. But I would have remembered the place, I’m sure of it.

“It was surprisingly good!” I hear myself reply. Okay, so that’s definitely not true.

“That’s great to hear.”

“And…” my voice trails off. I can feel my heart speeding up in anticipation. Will I learn more about this Maverick guy?

There’s a brief pause, then Mom says, “Honey, could you run out to the car and check for another grocery bag? I’m missing a couple of cans.”

It takes me a few beats to realize that the Mom that just spoke is from the present. I look over at her, frozen, straining to hear the rest of the conversation from last year.

“Did you see the boy? Maverick, right?” Mom’s echo says on the other side of the room. I look in that direction as if there’s going to be another Mom standing there to have a conversation with.

“I did,” my past voice replies at the same time Mom’s present self says, “Laura? Can you?”

“Uhh, yeah,” I reply quickly, but I don’t move. I’m still listening.

“He seems pretty nice,” Mom’s echo says.

“He paid for my food,” I hear myself tell her.

I’m hearing double now, because Mom’s echo says, “Really now? That’s really nice,” a beat before her present version asks, “Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah,” I reply, even though my heart is thudding in my ears, and I can’t make sense of anything I’m hearing. I want to freeze time and remember everything so that I don’t feel crazy anymore, but I can’t. I can only sit here and listen.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, I’ll go grab it,” Mom says, putting a hand on my shoulder for a moment before she leaves the room.

“Do you think he likes you?” Mom’s echo asks in that nosy-motherly sort of way. It makes me want to roll my eyes even today.

“I don’t know. I can’t think about things like that, though,” comes my reply.

“Hey, that’s not true, sure you can. That’s what we moved here for. A fresh start. A chance to feel normal.”

“I’ll never feel normal,” my echo replies. I feel the same way now. Hearing this conversation that I don’t remember is the least normal thing I’ve experienced since moving to Shorewick.

Mom of the present comes back into the house just as her echo says, “Don’t rule it out just yet, okay? Promise.”

“Okay, Mom. Promise,” I answer with a sigh, but in the present, I can make no such promise.

I listen for a minute more, but the conversation seems to be over, so I sit back down.

“Doing okay?” Mom asks me across the kitchen counter. I want so badly to open up to her, to explain all of the unexplainable things I’ve been hearing lately, to let her tell me I’m not crazy. But what if I am?

Instead, I settle for, “Yeah, I just got a little dizzy. Probably just hungry.”

“Well you’re in luck because dinner is ready,” she replies.

And as I eat, I cling