Echoes of Us

by S. H. Timmins

  “Jo, your momma asked my dad to leave her alone. I heard them this morning when we all got here. Your momma was crying and kept telling my dad to leave her alone. He’s just doing what she asked.”

  I was even more confused and angry now. “Why would she do that?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know. I think she’s mad at him.”

  “Why? Because he won’t let us live with you?” I know I was mad about that.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe? I don’t understand grown-ups.”

  Neither did I, but I knew there had to be more to it than that. My mom was sweet and kind. She never got mad at people.

  I was lost in thoughts about Mom when I felt Cruz take my hand in his larger one. I looked back up at him and he had one of his serious looks again. “We’ll never be like that. I’d never leave you alone, even if you asked me to.”

  My little heart felt so big and warm at that moment. I squeezed his hand back and said, “I’ll never leave you alone either. We will always be together.”

  He smiled at me and whispered, “Forever.”

  When we got back to the house after the funeral, there was a man waiting for us on Grammy’s porch. I remember seeing him around the house a few times over the last year, but no one told me who he was. He was tall and had a dark suit on. He smiled when he saw us walking up the path, but when my mom saw him, she stiffened beside me. He walked down the front steps and approached us slowly. Upon closer inspection, I could see that he had dark hair with a few silver specks near his ears. His eyes were brown, and they crinkled at the corners when he looked down at me, but the smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes. My grammy would have said he was “spiffy”, but I didn’t like his fine clothes and unsmiling eyes. He made me want to hide behind my mom.

  Taking his eyes away from me, he swung them onto my mom. I didn’t like the way he was looking at her. His eyes looked hard and not at all kind, like Cruz’s dad. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and his eyes should have been my first clue about the soul he hid beneath his fancy clothes. He raised an eyebrow at my mom and asked her, “I trust the service went well?”

  Mom cleared her throat and replied that it did, then she looked down and said “Jo, go on inside and wait for me. I’ll be inside soon.”

  I didn’t want to leave her alone with this strange man, but I was also glad to have the chance to get away from him. I ran up the steps and opened the door. Nobody ever locked their doors on this side of the tracks. We were dirt, so who would want to steal from us?

  I ran past the living room without looking and right up to my room. I didn’t want to see anything that reminded me of Grammy. I flung myself on my bed and noticed my heart was racing. I couldn’t explain why, just that I knew something bad was happening. I wanted to hide, but I knew that wouldn’t spare me from whatever was coming.

  I don’t know how long I lay there with my heart thundering in my chest and my hands clenched, but when I heard my mom come into the room, I knew the moment of truth had arrived.

  She sat on the edge of my bed and reached out to stroke her hand softly over my head. I wanted to cry, and she hadn’t even said a word yet. “I wish things could have been different about your daddy,” she whispered in a voice full of such pain. I held my breath and waited for her to continue. “You have all the best parts of him, and he would have loved you so very much.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I love you, more than you can understand. It’s because I love you, we need to leave. I would do anything to give you the life you deserve, the love you deserve. There is only pain on this side of the tracks. Pain and heartbreak. I don’t want you to suffer the same fate as I did. Your grammy would want a better life for you too.” She stopped and took a deep breath, then delivered the horrible news I felt was coming. “We’re moving to the other side of the tracks, baby. That man outside, the one who owns this house, he’s offered me a job to care for his son and look after his home. I accepted. This is our chance to change the course of our lives. We leave in the morning.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t believe what she was saying. We couldn’t move to the other side of the tracks. I wouldn’t go to the same school as Cruz, and we wouldn’t be able to see each other. The pain that thought caused, created a small fissure in my heart and I was sure it was bleeding. The mom I loved wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t take me away from the only place I knew and the boy who was my entire world.

  She couldn’t! I wouldn’t let her!

  “NO! I’m not going!” I screamed this at her and watched her face collapse as tears ran down her cheeks, but I didn’t care. I. Didn’t. Care. Cruz was mine, and I was his. We were supposed to be together. Forever. My mouth had no filter from the pain I was feeling. “If you love me, you won’t do this! I don’t want this. I don’t want to move, and I don’t want to go to the other side of the tracks. If you do this, I will hate you forever!”

  My mom’s face at that moment will haunt me too. She stiffly got to her feet and walked to the door, saying over her shoulder, “Even so, I’ll still love you. I’m sorry, baby, so sorry. One day you will understand.” With that, she left my room, and I was alone with a bleeding heart and the feeling I couldn’t breathe.

  I had to find Cruz. He only lived two streets away. I jumped out my bed, flew past my mom, and out the front door. I heard her screaming my name behind me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. My feet flew down the familiar path to his house while tears streamed down my face. As I rounded the corner, I almost collided into a body that was moving as fast as mine. Familiar arms crushed me to a chest that smelled like sunshine and leaves. I was sobbing and shaking but I could finally breathe again.

  Cruz took me to the ground with him where he held me; both of us crying. I don’t know how long we sat like that, but eventually we weren’t alone. We both looked up at the same time to stare at our parents; eyes locked on each other and faces marked with tears. All you could hear was the strangled sounds of breaking hearts in each gasped breath and muted sob.

  Cruz’s dad broke the silence first. “Deanna…”

  “No, Jake, you know it has to be this way. I can’t stay here, and you know why.” There was so much pain in my mother’s voice, but there was anger there too.

  Cruz’s dad looked down at us huddled on the ground, then back to my mom. “Not even for them?”

  My mom’s face contorted in anguish, but she shook her head. “This is for them. It has to stop. If they find out...” She shook her head and looked away.

  I didn’t know what she was talking about, and by the look on Cruz’s face, neither did he, but his dad did. He closed his eyes and whispered, “For them.”

  Mom gave a jerk of her head and then looked down at us. Her face softened when she looked at me, then she looked at Cruz where he held me, and her eyes welled with tears again. She spoke to him when she said, “She can stay with you tonight. Thank you for loving my daughter. Your mom would be proud of you.”

  I would wonder how Deanna Hamilton knew Cruz’s mom, but that was a secret. A secret I wouldn’t learn until many years later.

  The Other Side

  Six Years Later - Present

  I can still see his face as the big town car pulled me away from everything I knew. From him. All these years later, and I’ll never forget his face, his smell, and the way he left an imprint on my young heart.

  I was staring at my oatmeal - lost in memories of the past - when an obnoxious voice asks me, “What’s the matter, Goldilocks, is your porridge too cold?”

  I glare across the counter at the source of the voice, and one of my least favorite people; my stepbrother, Byron. Knowing that anything I say to him will just encourage him more, I remain silent.

  Loving the sound of his own voice, he continues, “Nervous about starting our senior year? You should be. You may shine up like a diamond, but everyone knows you come from dirt.”

  His favorite dig doesn’t hit its mark.
I don’t care what others think of me, but I’m not allowed the luxury of showing it. Appearances and all, you see. My stepfather, the very man who stole me from my “dirty” life, is one of the most influential men on this side of the tracks. I’m not allowed to bring shame to his name, as I’m so frequently reminded. I’m dressed a certain way, expected to act and speak a certain way, and always reminded about the wealth and name I now represent. I hate it. I hate this life, and I hate the two men who lord it over me.

  Knowing there’s no point in remaining in this room and staring at a breakfast I can never stomach eating; I push my stool back and turn to leave the room. I’ve almost made my escape, but Byron still wants to take one last stab at me. “And don’t think because you look the way you do now, that anything will change. You may have tits, an ass, and long legs, but you won’t be flaunting them around and causing any trouble, you hear me? I won’t have my sister spreading her legs for all the boys and trying to trap them with her magical pussy, like your mom did with my dad.”

  And there is one that hits the mark. Before he can see how much pain those words cause me, I walk calmly the rest of the way through the house, grab my school bag from the hall, then head out through the massive front door. When it’s firmly shut behind me, I lean back and let the tears fall.

  My mother may have moved us here for a job, but it’s true she had a relationship with Victor that resulted in their marriage. Byron was always a brat and a bully, but he loved his mom and saw my mother as the replacement for her memory. Victor had only been widowed a year when he moved my mother and her defiantly broken daughter here. I didn’t make life easy for anyone inside these walls; myself included. I was just as mad and disgusted as Byron when they announced their engagement. What should have bound us in our shared hatred of the situation, just made us turn our anger toward each other. I may have hated my mother for what she did, both for bringing us here and for marrying Victor, but that hate is dead now and all I feel for my mother is sadness and love.

  A car horn blaring snaps me out of my pity bubble, and I see my two friends waving from the front seats of a silver BMW. I suck in a breath and paste a smile on my face as I jog down the granite stairs and toward my waiting friends.

  As I’m tossing my bag in the back, I notice Stephanie craning her head at an angle where she can see the front door better. Knowing who she’s hoping to see, I tell her, “He just came down when I was leaving. He won’t be ready yet.”

  She turns with a pout. “Well, damn. I was hoping to start this year with a little eye-candy in the morning. Guess I’ll wait for school.”

  I just shake my head at her. I don’t know what she sees in Byron. He’s loud and obnoxious, and that’s when he’s on his best behavior. He is also the biggest whore in our school, and that’s saying something. His reputation seems to be a source of pride for my stepfather, but mine has to remain pristine. I only have one more year, then I can run as far and wild as I want.

  I’m counting down the days.

  Carla blows me a kiss, then pulls the car out of our circular drive. “You have to admit; your brother is a hottie. I know you hate him, but you’re not blind,” she says casually over her shoulder at me.

  I sigh from where I’m slouched in the back. Yes, he’s good-looking, but I see nothing other than my greatest nemesis when I look at him. He’s tall and broad, like Victor, has the same dark brown hair, but instead of brown, he has green eyes that are so vibrant; it makes all the girls in our school stupid. He’s on the football team, has a decent amount of muscle, and comes from one of the wealthiest families around. I couldn’t care less.

  I don’t pay attention to the boys at school, so I wouldn’t even know how to compare him to the others in the looks department. It’s not that I don’t want to look, there was just never any point when I had a pit bull for a stepbrother cock-blocking any boy who even dared approach me. This year will be different. I don’t care what he says, and I don’t care what Victor threatens me with. I’m done being the socially accepted girl Victor has groomed me to be. My mother can’t stop me anymore, and I don’t plan on being in this fake life much longer. This year I’m bringing the dirt back.

  With a renewed sense of confidence, I lean forward between my two friends and say, “This year is gonna be the best!”

  I’m standing at my newly assigned locker, when I feel a body sidle up beside me. I turn my head and see a boy leaning against the locker beside mine. I can’t remember his name, but I’ve had classes with him before. I try my best to ignore him and continue to fiddle with the lock on my locker.

  “Hey, Jolene. I was wondering what classes you’ve got this term?”

  I close my eyes and count to three. I don’t need to start my day this way. There’s a reason Byron was feeling bent this morning about how the boys would act around me. I never thought of myself as beautiful, just pretty. The sun lightened my hair over the summer, and I have some silvery, blonde streaks in it now - just like my mother’s hair. I also grew a few inches, making my legs appear longer, but it’s the extra cup size I increased that has this boy’s attention right now.

  Feeling frustrated with this new and unwanted attention, I say icily, “I’ll ask my boobs if they know where my schedule is.”

  His eyes snap back up to mine and the embarrassment stains his cheeks pink. “Yeah, um, sorry?”

  I finally get my locker open and slam the books I don’t need inside. I can feel him fidgeting beside me and he finally mutters, “I guess I’ll see ya around.”

  Smart boy.

  I make my way down the hallway and feel several sets of eyes watching my approach. Byron is lounging against the lockers down by the gym area. His eyes narrow at me. Remembering my decision to snub the rules that have been governing me, I put a little extra sway in my hips and plaster a flirtatious smile on my lips, all while pulling my shoulder back and pushing my chest out. Four sets of eyes nearly fall out of their heads as I make my approach. One set narrow to dangerous slits. I keep my head held high as I walk past the group of boys and one very unhappy stepbrother.

  Yes, this will be an interesting year.

  The cafeteria’s packed when I finally make my way inside. Mrs. Coleman once again wanted to speak to me about applying for the school paper. She asks me every year, and every year I say no. I know I do well in English and enjoy writing, but I am not interested in this school - other than to receive my diploma. This school is for the Byron Masons, who hail from the left side of the tracks. I’ll always be a misfit. I would probably be a misfit on the other side of the tracks now too.

  That sad thought is still with me when I hear my friends calling my name.

  I look for them at our usual spot from previous years, but they are calling me from the table where all the senior kids from last year sat. This is the popular table, so my stepbrother is there with his football cronies. I really don’t want to spend my year eating with him, but it appears my friends decided for me.

  Stephanie is grinning from ear-to-ear when I make my way over to them, and I don’t have long to wonder why. I slide in a spot beside her when she asks me excitedly, “Did you hear the latest gossip?” She knows I don’t care about gossip, so she plows ahead as if I answered. “There’s a new kid transferring in for the football team. Apparently, he’s some big deal, and the school pulled strings to get him here. You know they’ll do anything to win. No one knows anything about him other than that. Isn’t that exciting? We haven’t had fresh meat around here in way too long.”

  I almost pity the poor guy. Fresh meat is right. These kids will chew him up and spit him out.

  In a much quieter voice, Carla whispers across the table, “I hope he’s cute.”

  I roll my eyes at that, but Stephanie claps her hands together, drawing the attention of a few other students around us, including my brother. I look back at Stephanie and teasingly joke, “I’m sure it will crush Byron if you’re not drooling over him anymore.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me
. “Jolene, there can never be enough hot guys in this school.”

  I’d have to take her word for it.

  I feel eyes on me, but it isn't my brother. I look down the table and see Tisha Lawrence staring daggers at me. I don’t know what she has against me, but she has always hated me. She hangs in the same crowd that Byron does, so maybe he had something to do with it in the beginning, but her hatred of me seems to be more personal than that. She’s on the cheer team and has all the boys turning their heads when she walks past, so I don’t know why I ever hit her radar. I keep my nose down and go out of my way not to draw attention to myself. Feeling a kernel of my former self emerge, I give her a nasty smile, then turn my head back to my friends.

  I probably just made my life here worse, but it’s my last year and then I never have to see these kids again. I say, bring it on!

  Those first few days, all anyone was talking about was the new kid. The girls were all flustered over his looks and the boys were all impressed with his football stats. I still hadn’t seen him, so I couldn’t even contribute to the wagging tongues. They kept him during lunch periods to get caught up in our curriculum, but Steph had him in her algebra class and kept comparing him to that guy from the Vampire Diaries. She already claimed to be “in-lust” with our new student. Carla had him in her economics class and wouldn’t shut up about his hair and muscles. I felt left out, but not enough to care. Just another kid to be swallowed up by the students at Haventree Prep.