by Marissa Lete
Slowly, I push on the door, checking left and right to see if anyone is nearby. As I enter the room, the echoes change from a loud stream of chattering to the sounds of pots and pans clanging, water running, and a knife hitting a cutting board repeatedly. The sounds from today are also quieter in comparison.
Then, to my right, I hear someone’s voice. “Hey, did you finish order number sixty-six?” it calls out, filling up the space of the room. It’s Maverick’s voice, from last year.
“I finished the salad, but that’s it,” another male voice replies to his echo.
“Looking for something?” the same male voice asks, except it’s not an echo. I whip around, and the older man I’d seen through the other door is standing a few feet away, staring at me. He’s big, mostly bald, and scowling at me.
“I—uhh, sorry!” I spit out. “I thought this was the bathroom!” I back up, ready to turn to head out the door. The man—Tony, I presume—points out the window of the door I’d just come through.
“Bathroom’s right there,” he says. I nod, then exit through the door, practically running across the hall to the bathroom.
When I finally get back to my seat, Penny is wiping down the table that the old couple had been sitting at earlier. I take a deep breath and sip on my Coke, my heart rate slowly returning to normal. A few minutes later, the door of the kitchen opens up, and Tony comes out holding a plate with a burger and a bag of chips on it. He sets it down in front of me while I try to avoid his gaze, then puts his hands on the edge of the bar, looking at me pointedly.
“Alright, sweetie. Now you and I both know that the bathroom was clearly marked and that you could see the kitchen through the window. So I need to know what you were really doing back there.”
I struggle for a reasonable explanation that doesn’t make me sound crazy. “I—uhh—thought maybe I could…” I trail off.
“Steal something?”
“No! Of course not!” I burst, though I can’t deny that I do look pretty guilty.
“Then why?” he presses.
“I just—” I stutter, then take a deep breath. Maybe I just need to tell him what I was really looking for. “I needed to ask you something.”
Tony raises an eyebrow.
“Do you know someone named Maverick?” I blurt out.
A flash of emotion—surprise?—crosses Tony’s face. “Why do you ask?”
“I just… someone told me that he worked here.” I can’t think of a better explanation.
Then, without saying anything, Tony goes to the cash register. He opens a drawer, digs around for a second, then opens another. He shuffles through some papers and miscellaneous items, then pulls something out of the drawer and walks back over to me, holding out the item. I take it, turning it over in my fingers. It’s a nametag, one identical to the one Penny wears. Glancing at Tony, I notice he has one, too. But this one says “Maverick.”
I suck in a breath.
“Now listen. I don’t know anyone named Maverick. I’ve never known a Maverick, and I can promise you that one has never worked here. But last week I was cleaning out underneath the oven, and I found this nametag. I’m not sure where it came from,” Tony tells me, searching my face. I don’t know how to respond, so I just stare at the nametag in my hand. “Do you know anything about it?”
I shake my head. I’d heard Maverick’s echo back in the kitchen, talking to Tony, and yet, Tony has no idea who he is. “I don’t know,” I tell him because it’s the truth. “I’m just trying to figure it out.”
“Well,” he says, his face brightening up, “it’s a mystery to me. But obviously, it means something to you. I won’t pry anymore, but you can keep it.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, curling my fingers into a fist around the nametag. It has to mean something. “I’m sorry for snooping,” I add, giving him an apologetic look.
“It’s in the past,” he replies. He turns to the door, takes a few steps, then stops, facing me. “Sometimes,” he adds, “the past is in the past for a reason. Sometimes it’s best to leave it there.” He gives me a sad smile, then saunters back into the kitchen.
If only it were that easy for me.
Chapter 12
The next few days pass in a blur as I try to make sense of the name tag. Just like the vase, it seems to be actual evidence that Maverick exists, but the fact that Tony has no idea who Maverick is seems to negate that. It could have been possible that Tony did know Maverick, and Maverick had used a different name, but then why would there be a name tag with Maverick printed on it? It doesn’t make any sense, and there’s nothing I can do except wait and listen, hoping that the echoes will reveal more information eventually.
I don’t hear any more encounters with Maverick, but I do continue to notice echoes of my phone buzzing and ringing more often. I don’t remember texting anybody that much back then, because even Grace and I weren’t quite close friends yet. So the only explanation is that somehow Maverick was involved. Did I like him? Was I seeing him, and simply missing the echoes? I don’t know what to think.
Grace avoids me at school, so I spend my lunches with Leo. Since he’s grounded, I have no one to hang out with after school, so I end up just heading home. I don’t venture too far from the house anymore, especially since the days are getting shorter and I don’t want to have any more close calls with the Suburban. I remain on edge, checking my mirrors and scanning the traffic around me for any sign of it.
And then one morning, I finally witness another appearance of the mysterious Maverick.
I’m walking to my car, following the sounds of my own echo leaving for school as usual, when I hear his echo.
“Laura Jones,” his voice appears right next to my car, calm with a hint of mischief. I stop in my tracks.
“Oh!” My echo replies, surprised. “Hi.”
“How are you?” he asks, and I can hear echoes of my past self opening the passenger door, dropping something inside, then closing it.
“I’m well, how about you?” I hear myself reply.
“I’m good. But I’ve got the strangest feeling that you’ve been avoiding me.”
My echo lets out a short laugh, then replies, “What do you mean?”
“Come on, really?” he starts, his tone light. Playful. “We go on this wonderful, magical date together. I had fun, I thought you had fun. Then for the next week, every time I ask you if you want to hang out or go do something together, you’re not home, or you have ‘stuff’ to do. And now I don’t know if you’re just playing hard to get, or if you actually don’t like me.”
There’s a pause, and finally, my echo replies, “Well, I haven’t been avoiding you, actually.”
Maverick makes a noise of shock, then laughs. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“Why would I ever do that?” comes my innocent reply.
Maverick sighs in disdain. “Gosh, now you just think I’m clingy.”
“Maybe just a little,” my echo replies, laughing.
“Fine, I can play this game too. Pretend like I don’t care. That’s okay with me if you really want to do it that way,” Maverick challenges. I hear myself laugh, then what sounds like a slap on an arm.
“Stop it. You don’t have to do that.”
“And why shouldn’t I?” I can almost imagine his expression, eyebrows raised, half-smiling, but I can only put the image on a blank face since I have no idea what he looks like.
“Because…” my echo trails off. There’s a long pause.
“It’s okay if you’re not—” Maverick starts, but my voice cuts him off.
“Because I like you?” It sounds like I tried really hard to make it a statement, but it came out as mostly a question.
“You like me?” Maverick replies, mimicking my unsure tone.
“I like you! Okay? I said it,” my echo finally replies, laughing. It’s less of a question and more of a statement of desperation this time. Maverick just chuckles. “Oh, so that’s it? You have no reply?”
“Hmm. I’ll think about it,” he replies. Then footsteps move further away from the location of the conversation, towards the abandoned house.
“You’re the worst!” my past voice calls out to him.
“But you like me! You said it yourself!” he calls back.
I hear myself laughing, then sighing. My own footsteps move around the front of my car. The door opens.
“But Laura?” Maverick calls from across the street. I look in the direction of it, my gaze landing on the empty driveway and bushes with little yellow flowers growing on them. “I guess I like you too.”
My echo laughs softly, then I call back, “Go to work!” The car door closes, and then the engine starts.
As the echoes leave me behind, I stand next to my car, staring at the abandoned house across the street. I feel like I’ve just witnessed a conversation between strangers, not one that I partook in a year ago. I feel like I don’t even recognize the girl that was talking to Maverick. She’s flirty and funny and seems normal enough to have someone like Maverick as a boyfriend.
And I’m just a confused, boring version of her that can’t even keep her own best friend around.
✽✽✽✽✽
School feels much longer than normal, and after what seems like three full days, the bell rings for lunch. Grace is still avoiding me at all costs, and I’m starting to wonder if she’ll ever come around.
“It’s like I don’t even exist to her anymore,” I say bitterly as Leo sits down at the table.
“She’ll get over it, eventually,” he replies.
“I’m starting to think eventually means years from now.”
Leo glances over at Grace’s new lunch table. She’s sitting next to Andy, her head thrown back in laughter. “It could be a while. But she’s not usually one to hold grudges forever.”
“She isn’t even justified in holding a grudge. I did nothing wrong,” I reply.
“I know,” Leo sighs. We’ve probably had this same conversation at least three times now. But I can’t stop thinking about it. Grace was the first person who’d ever called me her best friend, and it hurt to have that ripped from me. She took me under her wing when I first moved here and became someone I truly cared about. She helped me feel like I was starting a new life. A normal life. And now, because she’s gone, I feel like my ability to be normal is gone with her.
“Maybe I should just try talking to her,” I finally say.
Leo shrugs. “If you think that would help.”
I put my elbows on the table, pressing my palms to my temples. “I just don’t know.”
“I’ll probably be un-grounded by next week. We could try stopping by her house to chat after school one day? It’s probably best if we get her when Andy’s not around, anyways,” Leo suggests.
I nod, glad to have something even slightly normal to look forward to. “I think that’s a good idea.”
The weekend passes by uneventful, and on Monday after school, Leo hangs out at my house for a couple of hours before we go to Grace’s. We spend most of the time deep in the trenches of homework, but finally, a little before dinnertime, I take a deep breath and close my book.
“Alright. Let’s get this over with.”
As we make the familiar drive over to Grace’s house, I try to think about what I will say to her. “I’m sorry and I just want to be friends with you again,” makes it sound like the whole ordeal is my fault but I imagine saying, “You were a jerk and you need to get over it,” isn’t going to fix any problems, either. I’m still at a loss as we walk up to her front door, but I ring the bell anyway.
Grace’s mom, Clara, opens it, and immediately I can tell we’ve made a mistake.
“Is Grace here?” Leo asks before I can stop him.
Clara’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “I thought that Grace was at your house, Laura?” Her eyes dart between us.
I think, quick. “Crap! I totally forgot we were supposed to meet her there!” I grab Leo’s arm a little too forcefully, starting to back up as I do.
“Hold it right there,” Clara puts a hand up. “I texted Grace an hour ago and she told me she was already there.”
I’m a deer caught in the headlights. “I… she must have just gone inside. I forgot about our… meeting. We better go—” I try to escape again, but Clara shakes her head.
“I guess you're not the one that gave her a ride to school, then? Right?”
“I…” I start, but I know it’s futile. I glance at Leo.
Clara sighs. “Alright. I think I see what’s going on. Why don’t you two head home, now, okay?”
“Mrs. Williams—” Leo starts, but Clara puts a hand up.
“It’s obvious that Grace has been lying to me, and I can’t let her get away with this. I won’t mention your names, okay?”
I take a deep breath, knowing that Grace will eventually figure it out, then tug on Leo’s arm. “Let’s go,” I say.
And so we do, and as we’re driving away, I realize I may have just gotten Grace into the biggest trouble she’s ever been in.
“I think I just killed my chances of ever being friends with her again,” I tell Leo.
“Maybe she won’t know it was because of us?” he replies, hopeful.
But the next morning as I pull up to the school, Grace is standing next to my usual parking spot, arms folded.
“What is wrong with you, Laura?” she bursts as soon as I’m out of the car.
“Grace, I’m so sorry—”
“Sorry? For getting me grounded for the rest of my life? For showing my mom that she needs to ‘put tighter restrictions on my behavior’?” She makes the air quotations with her fingers. “You got my phone revoked, my car taken away, my entire life ruined!” she practically yells at me.
“How was I supposed to know you were using me as a cover? I just went by there because I wanted to talk to you! Grace, please—”
“You wanted to talk to me? Why, Laura? What do you not understand about the words ‘I’m done,’ huh?”
Leo appears beside me, hands in front of him as if he’s approaching a dangerous animal. “Look, Laura just wanted to make things right, you can’t blame her for this.”
“Oh, so you were in on this too, then?”
“I just wanted us all to be friends again,” Leo tells her.
“Well I already told Laura that we were done, and maybe I should’ve told you the same thing,” she spits.
“And what would you know about being done with someone? How many times have you been ‘done’ with Andy, and still you end up back in the palm of his hand?” Leo fires back, the hurt from her words evident on his face.
“Don’t even go there. You’re just biased because you don’t like him!” Grace attempts to defend herself.
“No, Grace. I’m biased because I’m in love with you!” Leo blurts out, his words knocking the wind out of me. There’s a moment where we all stand there, processing what he said. I watch as Grace’s face freezes in confusion, and Leo’s eyes widen in fear. I look between the two, realization dawning on me. It suddenly makes so much sense. That’s why he insisted on following her to that party at Jet’s Warehouse. Because he cares about her, and he cares enough to take a grounding for her.
We stand there, a triangle of awkwardness, none of us knowing how the conversation took this unexpected turn, none of us knowing how to end it. Then, finally, Grace moves, the anger returning to her expression just before she turns on her heel and walks towards the school building without another word. I turn to Leo.
“I didn—” I start to say, but Leo puts his hand up.
“Just forget about it,” he says, then turns to the school building, too.
I want to catch up to him and say something that will help. I want to figure out how to smooth things over with Grace, too, but I don’t know how to. So instead, I walk slowly to class, sitting down at my new desk away from Grace, and listen to the echoes of Mrs. Andrews’s Biology class for the entire period.
<
br /> Chapter 13
Later that night, I’ve just curled up in bed and turned the light off when there’s a knock at my window. Three distinct taps. I freeze, my stomach dropping as I jolt up in bed to look towards it, but I relax when I hear an echo of footsteps walking to the window. The sound is from last year, not someone trying to break into my house right now.
I turn my light back on, my curiosity piquing when I hear the window sliding open.
“What do you want?” I hear myself call softly. I get out of bed and creep over to the same spot, opening the window today, too, so that I can hear the echo better.
“You. To come with me,” Maverick’s smiling voice replies from the ground outside.
“Seriously? Right now?”
“Right. Now.”
“But it’s so cold!” And it’s cold tonight, too, a soft breeze sifting through my curtains into the warm, cozy house.
“Problem solved. Catch!” he calls, and I hear the sound of fabric shuffling, then being pulled through the window. I imagine my past self holding one of Maverick’s hoodies—if he even wore hoodies at all. Was it big or small? What did it smell like? What did he smell like?
“You want me to wear this?” my echo deadpans.
“That is kind of the purpose of a jacket.”
“It’s fifty degrees, not negative fifteen. This thing is huge.”
“I didn’t want you to be cold,” Maverick replies simply, and my echo laughs from the window.
“Okay, fine. Give me a minute. I’m not jumping out the window.”
“What, you don’t think I can catch you?”
“I don’t. However, I’m pretty sure this jacket would break my fall,” my echo replies.
Maverick chuckles. “Meet me around back then?”
“Sure.” I hear footsteps retreating, then my window closing. Sneaking out at night to see a boy. What a strangely normal thing for my past self to be doing.
