Echo laughs behind me, but her mother looks mortified. “He’s more handsome than his picture,” she says. Her face goes scarlet as soon as the words leave her mouth. “I mean, I wasn’t commenting, just, uh, correcting her.” Her eyes zero in on the twin who spoke. “We don’t call boys pretty. We say handsome.”
The twins giggle behind their hands. One dares to say, “Your face is all red.” They both start giggling even harder.
Trying to shake off her embarrassment, Mrs. Simmons says, “Are we ready to go? We have dinner reservations at eight.”
Everyone nods, thankfully, and we head for the exit. I breathe a sigh of relief when both Echo’s parents turn their attention away from me and back toward containing the twins. Even more of my tension disappears when Echo’s arm slips through mine. “You deserve a reward for putting up with all of this,” she whispers.
“It’s no problem,” I say, but Echo rolls her eyes. Okay, it’s a little unnerving that her parents basically refuse to let us go anywhere alone. I’m even staying at their house for the weekend because her dad was just sure we’d end up in my hotel room doing things he’d rather not think about. I’ll be spending the weekend going to the twins’ soccer game, graduation, and hanging out at their house trying to prove I’m not a psycho stalker or serial killer.
“Now,” Echo says, “Just a warning about dinner…”
I listen attentively as she explains what going out to dinner with Mable and Azalea often entails. It doesn’t take long before I realize how right she is. When Mable—I think—screams at the top of her lungs after a fly lands on her plate, it’s tough not to laugh. When Azalea goes chasing a rogue crayon under an occupied table, startling our dinner neighbors, I really start to understand the pained looks on everyone’s faces.
Ice cream covered spoons being stuck to their noses puts an end to dinner, but Echo’s mom does seem to appreciate it when I distract the twins from making any further messes by clobbering them with napkins while tickling them. It's nice to get a pleasant reaction from Mrs. Simmons, but I mainly did it to make sure Echo knew I wasn’t put off by her wild little sisters. Honestly, there were plenty of dinners with my sisters that were just as bad.
By the time we make it back to Echo’s house, everyone is exhausted. After finals last week, the trip to the estate, the flight, and the stress of meeting Echo’s family, as much as I would have liked to have stayed up with Echo, I crash five minutes after lying down in the guest room. I feel like I’ve just barely closed my eyes when someone’s hand is on my shoulder.
“Malachi,” Echo whispers.
“Hmm?” I mumble as I try to force my eyes open. Her fingers slide up to my face and suddenly I have no problem waking up. Smiling up at her sleepily, I ask, “What time is it?”
Echo grimaces. “Sorry. I know it’s early, but I have to be at the school by nine and I thought you might want to help me make breakfast for everyone.”
It takes me a moment to understand that Echo is trying to help me impress her parents. Even at seven in the morning on a Saturday, I’m all for it. “Of course. Just give me a minute to wake up.”
“Okay,” Echo says, grinning, “but I’m gonna wait for you in the kitchen. If my dad sees me in here he’ll freak.”
She scampers off a second later and leaves me to gather my thoughts. The sun is slowly making its way up as well as I stretch and toss back my blankets. I never put much time into making my bed at home, but I certainly don’t skip it this morning. A few minutes later, I’m shuffling into the kitchen in search of Echo. In the dim, early morning haze, I didn’t take much notice of what Echo was wearing when she came in. I’m still half asleep, but I’m awake enough to appreciate her low slung cotton pajama pants and snug tank top. Having her this close, it’s nearly impossible not to slip my arms around her waist.
“So, what’re we making?” I ask, needing a distraction.
Echo jumps, spinning around to face me with a laugh. “Man, you’re quiet!” She shakes her head and smiles, but I can hear the tremor in her voice. She pretends nothing’s wrong as she continues. “We’re making omelets.”
“Hey,” I say as I step closer to her, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shakes her head, but the corner of her mouth starts twitching.
“Carrots, please. Don’t pretend with me. I can tell something’s wrong.” I risk having her dad walk in to see me with my hands on his daughter and reach for her. She hesitates a moment before folding into my embrace. “What’s going on, Echo?”
She breathes in shakily. “I’ve been having nightmares again.”
I don’t respond right away. It takes me a minute to process what she’s saying. Echo has given me bits and pieces of what she’s been through, but she doesn’t like to talk about her past. The nightmares, though, every time she even says the word, I hear the fear in her voice. Those were just memories of what once was. Now, fear doesn’t quite touch it.
“The rogue ghost?” I ask quietly. Echo nods, but doesn’t say anything. “What does he want?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “The nightmares, they’re just horrible feelings, a few random images that make no sense. I run, but I can never escape. I feel like I’m drowning, like someone is holding me under water or something. I know it’s him. I never see him, but I recognize his presence. It’s like he’s screaming at me to do what he wants, but I have no idea what that is.”
Echo presses her face into my chest, trembling and teary. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now. We’ll figure something out. Maybe Kyran’s family knows something about protecting dreams. His aunt is really into all this mystic stuff.”
“Really?” Echo asks when she lifts her head from my chest.
Nodding, I say, “He sleeps with a hex bag under his mattress.”
“A what?”
Honestly, I’m not totally sure what’s in a hex bag, so I just say, “Kyran can explain it better. Why don’t we call him later and see what he thinks?” She starts breathing a little easier and nods. I smile down at her even though the mention of nightmares has me pretty concerned. “Now, how about we make some omelets, before your dad wakes up and tries to skin me alive for touching you?”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Echo says. She pulls away reluctantly and we begin whisking eggs and dicing vegetables. By the time her family makes their way to the kitchen, they’re all more concerned with finding all the soccer gear and snacks they’ll need after the graduation ceremony than my proximity to Echo. I feel like I’m back in my childhood days as everyone wolfs down their food and scrambles to get ready.
The rest of the family doesn’t need to be at the school for the graduation until eleven, so as soon as Echo is ready to go, she grabs my hand, shouts that we’re leaving, and bolts before anyone can say otherwise. I feel as though we’ve just escaped prison once we’re safely in Echo’s car and driving toward the school.
Echo must feel the same, because she lets out a held breath. “This weekend is going to last forever at this rate.” She sighs and stares out at the road. “Sorry they’re so claustrophobic.”
“It’s fine. Just focus on getting through the ceremony.”
Smiling at me, Echo says, “I’m not even nervous about graduation. I just want it to be over. I would have skipped it entirely if I could have. At least you’ll get to meet Holden and Zara without my crazy parents hovering over us.”
That reminds me I’ve got two other people to impress. Zara I’m not too worried about. Holden was okay with me being Echo’s long distance friend, but I’m not so sure what his reaction will be to me now. I don’t have to wait much longer to find out, though. Before long, we’re pulling up to Echo’s high school and joining the crowd of seniors making their way toward the auditorium. Holden and Zara are waiting near the double doors leading into the crowded room, spotting us as soon as we come into view.
Zara squeals and runs to Echo, wrapping her up in an excited hug. Holden rolls his eyes at her and approach
es me instead. “Malachi, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You too, Holden.”
His eyes narrow for a few seconds before relaxing. “So, you ready for a road trip with these two?”
“Are you coming?” Echo never said for sure whether Holden was joining us or not.
“I’m not staying for the whole summer,” he says, “but I’ll be driving up with you guys and I’ll stay a few weeks to help get these two settled. I have to be back for an internship by June fifteenth.”
I nod, glad to know he’s coming, which is kind of surprising. I can’t wait to have Echo nearby all the time, but I was worried about them staying in an apartment by themselves when they don’t know the area at all. Having Holden there will deter any curious neighbors, especially given that he’s actually quite a bit more intimidating in size than I would have guessed from his online profile picture.
Someone calls the seniors to order and starts getting them organized a few minutes later. It leaves me standing off to the side watching, but I don’t mind. Watching Echo with her friends lets me see a different side of her. She said in the car that she would have skipped graduation if she could have, but as she and Zara talk excitedly in their seats, she actually seems glad to be here. Maybe it’s just the prospect of getting out of here that has her smiling.
I remember my own graduation, feeling excited and a little sad to be leaving it behind. I had friends and clubs and sports I was walking away from, though. Echo has Holden and Zara. There’s nothing here she’ll regret leaving behind. It’s a sad thought, but hopefully she’ll be moving on to something better. The FBI thing still has me nervous. It creeps me out to think that they’ve basically been stalking her for the past eight years and this Agent Morton guy has set up her stay in Georgia. If they can really help her, though, I guess it’ll be worth it.
Once all the seniors are seated, I find a spot near the front and save seats for Echo’s family. It’s tempting to just get lost in the crowd, but when I spot them come in I wave them over. Thankfully, the twins claim the seats on either side of me and start chattering nonstop until the ceremony starts. They don’t stop talking even then, but they do switch to whispering until they see Echo walk up on stage. At that point, they jump up on their chairs and start cheering wildly for their sister. Echo’s face turns as red as her hair, but she blows a kiss to each of her sisters before rolling her eyes at them.
Echo complains about her crazy sisters all the time, but leaving them isn’t going to be easy for her. The twins seem to realize that as well. As soon as she disappears and goes back to her seat, they both start sobbing. I’m not sure how I end up with my arms around both of them as they cry all over my shirt, but I find I don’t mind being the one to comfort them. I’m the one taking Echo away, after all. It’s the least I can do.
***
Hours later, when we make it to the soccer field and the twins are sprinting toward their coach, Mrs. Simmons comes up beside me and actually smiles. “I didn’t get a chance to say thank you for helping Echo with breakfast or handling the girls during the graduation earlier. It was very nice of you.”
“It was no problem. I know all about crying sisters. I’m not great in the kitchen, but I can at least follow Echo’s directions.”
“You don’t cook?”
“Side effect of having three older sisters who wanted to follow in my mama’s footsteps and become award winning cooks. They pretty much ran me out of the kitchen the second I stepped foot in their domain. Plus, my roommate had an unconventional family life, so he pretty much had to learn to cook if he wanted regular meals, and does all the cooking now.”
She smiles and glances over at Echo, who has her arm through mine again. When Mrs. Simmons looks back to me, her smile is less careful. “Well, you probably think we’re a little unconventional, too, after the chaos this morning. The twins, they’re…”
“Great,” I say with a laugh. It earns me a crinkled expression from Echo, but I just chuckle. “Really, my sisters were just as much of a handful. They still are. Growing up with them was like living in a circus half the time, between the drama and yelling and the dance, volleyball, theater, horseback riding…. It’s a wonder we all made it to adulthood.”
Mrs. Simmons shakes her head, chuckling to herself as she heads toward where one of the twins is calling for her. Echo squeezes my arm and points toward where her dad is setting up folding chairs off to the side of the field. Echo’s mom seems to be warming up to me, but her dad is glaring holes through me at the sight of Echo’s arm through mine. Part of me wants to slip out of her grasp, but it’s a pretty small part. I do, however, risk putting myself in the line of fire by sitting down next to her dad. I’d rather Echo didn’t have to sit next to him the whole game if he’s just going to be pissed off that I’m here.
By the time Mrs. Simmons joins us, the game is getting started. She plops down next to her husband, but leans around him to say. “I told the twins that if they didn’t misbehave during the game they would get to watch a movie with you and Echo tonight.”
Echo and her dad both turn to stare at her. Echo looks hopeful, saying, “Are we going to the movies tonight?”
Her dad is not thrilled, only saying, “When did we discuss this?”
To her credit, Mrs. Simmons just waves off her husband’s concerns. “Trust me,” she says, “this will work. Wouldn’t it be nice to sit through a game without one of the twins getting sent out for fighting?”
Mr. Simmons doesn’t comment, but he does look rather hopeful. I’m dying to ask what’s happened at previous games, but I don’t push my luck. Turning my attention to the game, I watch as the twins dart back and forth across the field. They’re certainly the most aggressive girls on either team, but they seem to be trying very hard not to step over the line. Once, Mable—I think—winds up both arms to shove a girl who accidentally stepped on her hand when they all went down in a big pile, but before she does, she looks over at me and grins before tucking her hands away and going after the ball.
At half time, the coach pulls out a container of sliced oranges, but the twins race off the field, barely stopping in time to avoid plowing into me.
“Did you see us?”
“I made a goal!”
“We stayed in the whole first half and didn’t get in trouble once!”
“That stupid girl stepped on me, but I didn’t even get mad!”
“You’re going to watch the rest of the game, right?”
“Are we doing good?”
Holding back my laughter, I say, “You two are doing awesome! I’m especially glad you’re playing fair. Wouldn’t want any yellow cards, right? I’m looking forward to taking you both to the movies.”
“We don’t have yellow cards in this league.”
“Or red cards. Not yet, anyway.”
Surprised by that, I say, “Oh, well that’s probably a good thing. Gives you time to practice learning all the rules.”
“It’s a really good thing,” Echo mumbles next to me. “They’d never play if they had cards at this age.”
Biting back another laugh, I start to say something, but one of the twins interrupts me. “Do you know about soccer? Do you know how to play?”
“It’s been a while,” I say, “but I used to play in high school.”
Suddenly, Mable—or Azalea—sprints back to her coach yelling, “Malachi knows soccer!”
Everyone else seems a bit stunned by her running and yelling, including me, but the remaining twin starts trying to yank me up from my seat for some reason. I don’t have a clue why until their coach comes trotting over to us. He looks at me skeptically and asks, “You’re familiar with soccer?”
“Uh, yeah, why?”
The coach sighs in relief. “The ref on the twins’ field has to leave. Her kid just threw up behind the goal. I need someone to take her place. Do you mind?”
The twins have their hands clasped in front of their bodies, silently begging. “Sure,” I say, laughing
at them.
Echo is standing next to me a moment later, shaking her head. “Malachi, you don’t have to. I can do it. I know enough to ref. I’ve done it before.”
“It’s fine, really. It’ll be fun.”
She stares at me like I’m crazy. The twins start dragging me away immediately, and a few seconds later, I find myself with a whistle in my hand and eight little girls squaring off. Before blowing the whistle, I say, “All right, remember to play nice, okay?”
It’s meant more for the twins than everyone else, but all eight heads bob excitedly and I blow the whistle. Slightly organized chaos breaks lose at the sound and the little bodies go racing back and forth across the field. The twins make two more goals in the half and don’t push down or yell at single person. They do miss a few passes thanks to trying to get my attention, though. I get that this isn’t usually how their games go but, by the end of the game, I am absolutely taken with these two little wild girls.
As soon as the game ends, the twins yank me over to their coach. He offers his hand immediately. “Thanks a lot, Malachi. I really appreciate your help.”
“I had a good time.”
“Any chance you’re available to help coach during the week? I’ve never seen the twins play so well. They’re usually out of the game before the second half for fighting or name calling.”
I can’t help laughing at the hopeful expression on his face. “Sorry, I’m just here for the weekend or I would love to.”
The poor guy looks a little devastated at the news. “Well, whatever you did to make them behave today, keep doing it.”
“I’ll try,” I say.
Echo finds me a moment later and wraps me up in a hug. The feel of having her in my arms is something I could definitely get used to. Her dad’s hand clamping down on my shoulder, not so much. I turn to face him and am surprised to see him without his glare of death. He doesn’t say anything, but I get the message anyway. We’ll be having a talk later on.
The Ghost Host: Episode 1 (The Ghost Host Series) Page 13