Pushing the Limits - McGarry Katie (лучшие бесплатные книги TXT) 📗

I chose a fan brush and mixed black and white paint together to create different shades of gray. “There are edges around the black and every now and then a flash of color streaks out of the gray. But I can never really grasp any of the slivers of memories that emerge.”

Clutching the paintbrush, I stared at the canvas that now represented my brain. “I wish someone would just tell me the truth and end the madness.”

A warm hand pressed hard against my shoulder, causing me to blink out of my zone. Wow, five o’clock. Dad would kill me if I didn’t get home soon. Nancy kept her hand on my shoulder and her eyes locked on the canvas. “If this is madness, then madness is brilliant. Are you going to finish this?”

For the first time in two years I felt like I could breathe. “You mind me hanging out after school?”

IN THE FIGURE BELOW, RAY AB was constructed starting from rays AC and AD. By using a compass, C and D were marked equidistant from A on rays AC and AD. The compass was then used to locate a Point Q, distinct from A, so that Q is equidistant from C and D. For all constructions defined by the above steps, find the measures of BAC and BAD.

If Aires was here, he would know what to do.

I mean, come freaking on—was there even a question in there? If so, simple English required a question mark. Was the triangle-looking drawing below supposed to help? Did I need a compass? And why did the answers below have numbers? There weren’t any freaking numbers in the story problem.

“Breathe, Echo,” Aires would tell me. “You’re psyching yourself out. Take a break and come back to it later.”

And he was right. Aires was always right. God, I missed him.

I tossed the ACT study book to the floor and rested my head on the back of the couch. I hated this room. Tacky pink flowered wallpaper hung on the walls to match the tedious curtains and upholstery. The moment she kicked my mother out the door, Ashley traumatized all interior designers of the world with her redecorating. She may have glued paper on the wall to wipe out my mother’s influence, but I knew what remained underneath—the mural of Greece my mother had painted.

I typically studied in Aires’ car, but Ashley had nagged at me until I lugged my books back into the house. I must have killed a lot of cows in a past life for Karma to hate me this much. Maybe I’d died two years ago and unknowingly entered hell. Doomed to spend the rest of eternity living with my father and stepmother and retaking the ACT over and over again.

“How was dance team practice today?” Ashley asked. The Wicked Witch and my father walked into the living room hand in hand. Good God, I must have died, because I’d hate to see the real thing if this wasn’t hell.

“Good.” I blinked several times. Crap—I always blinked when I lied. Worried they’d catch on, I lowered my head. Wait. Dad had attention issues and Ms. Scarecrow Brain wouldn’t notice a flying monkey if it smacked her in the face.

My father eased into his recliner and Ashley sat on his lap. Dear God, I am so sorry for whatever I did, but honestly, was my sin that bad? Dad kissed her hand. Swallowing bile, I turned my attention to the fireplace.

“Are you ready to take the ACT on Saturday?” my father asked.

Did chickens enjoy being put on trucks labeled KFC? “Sure.”

“You studied word lists earlier. Focus purely on math. That’s where you have problems.”

Problems? My math scores were way above average, but of course that wasn’t good enough.

Dad continued, “Did Mrs. Collins excuse you from some of your classes so you could prepare?”

“Yes.”

“I noticed fliers for the Valentine’s Day Dance in the office. Are you and Luke going?” When Ashley fished for information her irritating voice entered a higher pitch of annoying. Dogs in Oklahoma winced.

“Luke asked me today. Don’t worry. Our family’s precious reputation will stay intact. Mrs. Collins will never know that you lied to make yourself look better.”

“Echo!”

Crap. I cringed at the disappointment in my father’s voice. The automatic apology fell out of my mouth. “Sorry, Ashley.” Though it was true.

“It’s okay. When do you want to go dress shopping?”

Do what? I tore my eyes away from the fire and stared at her. My father rubbed her baby belly while she caressed his cheek. Gross. “I don’t need a new dress.”

“Yes, you do. Everything you own is either strapless or spaghetti-strapped. You can’t go to a dance with those scars showing.”

“Ashley,” my father whispered. His hand froze on her belly.

My throat swelled as if someone had rammed it with a two-by-four and my stomach cramped as if someone had whacked it. I sat up and my head swayed with the room. Disorientation in full force, I pulled down my sleeves. “I’m going … to go … upstairs.”

Ashley slid off my father. “Echo, wait. I didn’t mean it like that. I just want you to have a good night. A night you can look back at pictures of and remember how much fun you had.”

I brushed past her to the stairs. I needed my room. The one place Ashley’s bad decorating hadn’t completely ruined. The place where my mother’s colorful paintings hung, where pictures of me and Aires cluttered my desk, the only place I felt comfortable.

My heart ached. I wanted more than my room, but that was all I had. I wanted my mom. She may have been nuts, but she never put me down. I wanted Aires. I wanted the one person who’d loved me.

Ashley called to me from the bottom of the stairs. “Please, let me explain.”

I paused in my door frame. If she had never entered our lives, my mother and Aires would still be here, I wouldn’t be a scarred monster, and I would know love, not the hate currently boiling in my veins. “I liked you better when you were my babysitter. I hope when I graduate from high school I don’t turn into a royal witch like you.” I slammed the door behind me.

AFTER THAT LOVELY EXCHANGE with Ashley, I spent the rest of the night in my room hiding. I lay in bed and stared at the one part of my room Ashley had gotten to—my ceiling. She’d painted over my mother’s hand-painted constellations. The witch had done it while I recovered in the hospital. My mother used to lie in bed with me for hours staring at the ceiling, telling me Greek myths. Having few good memories of my mother, I despised Ashley more for stealing the one I had.

The knock on my door at 11:30 surprised me. The rule of thumb in the house required me to apologize first. Ashley probably wanted to show me in person why my current dresses wouldn’t work. No need to prolong the inevitable. “Come in.”

I bolted upright the moment my father walked in. He never came to my room. The first two buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned and his tie hung loose. Worry lines were carved around his tired eyes. He looked old. Too old to be married to a twenty-some-odd bimbo and too old to be having another baby. “She’s sorry, Echo.”

Of course he’d come on Ashley’s behalf. God forbid anything in this house not revolve around Ashley. “Okay. My apology will have to wait until morning. I’m a little beat.” We both knew what a cop-out that was. I’d be lucky if I slept for an hour.

Surprising me even more, my dad did something he hadn’t done since I came home from the hospital—he sat on my bed. “I’m going to contact your social worker. I don’t think this new therapist is working out.”

“No.” I said it too quickly and my dad caught on. “I already told you, I like her. She’s easy to talk to. Plus you said that you’d give her another try.”

“I know things between you and Ashley have been tough since you found out about our relationship, but you’ve been lashing out at her more than normal. She’s pregnant. I don’t want her under stress.”

My big toe began to rock. Would it kill him to love me? “I’ll try harder. Just let me keep seeing Mrs. Collins.” I needed to give him a reason to back off. “She’s the one that convinced me to focus on my friends and to date.” Lie.