Brandon's POV
No matter how much I try, I can't keep my eyes off her.
Maybe it's the way her lips twist when she's thinking or the perfect curls falling down her shoulders that I find so fascinating. She doesn't care for how she looks; she's not checking herself out every five seconds. I don't know if it's because she doesn't want to see herself or already knows how perfect she looks.
We've been walking in the rain slower than we could've been, and I think it has something to do with the fact that Echo seems to enjoy the rain.
She's been complaining about it, sure. But I haven't missed how she holds her hand out to feel the droplets hit her skin. I haven't forgotten how she occasionally looks up into the sky and smiles. It's like looking at a damn kid in a candy shop.
But eventually, we arrived at my mom's house. Echo mouth parts when she sees it. "Wow," She whispers. "What does your mom do for work? This house is fucking nice."
I take my keys out of my pocket and unlock the door, letting Echo walk through first. I cringe at the question. I hate that fucking question. I sigh and take a while to build up the courage to answer her, and I must've taken too long because Echo turns around with a cute, curious expression on her face.
I laugh and pace a little, wondering if I should say something full of shit or tell the truth.
"Uh," I let out softly. "She is a stripper."
Echo's eyes widen as I motion her to the downstairs bathroom with a hand on her back. She gasps, "You're joking." And then clasps a hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean it badly."
I blink hard and can't help but smile as I pull out two towels stored under the sink, hand her one, and use one for myself, ruffling my hair.
"You're good. It's not something I usually tell people I'm getting to know. Or ever, for that matter." I pull my shirt off and throw it in the sink, wiping my chest with the towel. Echo watches me, squeezing the water out of her hair. I continued, "You can just imagine how that would go over in high school when people found out."
Echo presses her lips into a thin line as if understanding. Then she says, "I killed my mom."
I furrow my brows, dropping the comb I just went to grab onto the floor. I snap my head to her as she casually does her hair in the mirror, pulling it up into a ponytail.
"You can't just say that and not elaborate. What do you mean you killed your mom?"
She glances at me through the mirror. "At birth, I killed her," she explains. "Having me; it killed her. My dad would always tell me that I was the reason she was not here anymore and that it was my fault. When people found out, I got bullied for killing my mom." She finishes with, "So yeah, I can imagine it. Kids are little shits."
I wasn't expecting that as much as she wasn't expecting my mom to be a stripper. I'm just thankful I'm not being friendly with a murderer. She sees herself as one, though, which makes me want to tell off the people in her life that let her believe that. Then again, who? She has no one. Not her friend, not her dad. They're all gone.
This gorgeous girl is all alone.
She finishes her hair, pulling out two curly strands from the center of her head to fall over her face. Her eyes are glossy, like she might cry. I frown as she hugs herself and looks away from me.
"Echo, hey," I sit her down on the toilet, where the tears begin to drop. She doesn't make a face; she doesn't make a sound. She keeps an expressionless face full of tears.
I kneel below eye level as she sits and lays my hands on her thighs. Her pants are soaked, and all her clothes are soaked with rain. I squeeze her, feeling her shake. She must be freezing.
"It's not your fault," I tell her. "You never asked for any of that to happen. You didn't kill her."
Silence follows, and Echo licks her lips, sniffling. God, I'd always pay any amount of money to know what she's thinking. That head of hers must say a lot. Most of the things it says I know are things she shouldn't be hearing or untrue.
"You understand?"
She nods once, but I don't think she does. I think she's just letting me hear what I want, so I don't bother her about it anymore. So that's what I do; I nod and say okay just when the door to the bathroom busts open.
Both Echo and I shoot to our feet, alert. I stand in front of her, putting her behind me.
"I don't know who you are, but you need to get the fuck out of my house before I stick this bat up, yo—" My mom's threatening voice halts as she stands at the bathroom entrance, holding a bat high and ready to swing.
"Mom. Fucking relax."
"Oh," She sighs, lowering the weapon. "Brandon, how lovely. What are you doing here? And why are you shirtless?" She props the bat against the wall, walks towards me, and stops.
She tilts her body and looks past me at Echo. A large grin grows on her face. I inhale. "No, fuck off, mom."
She waves me off and then shoves my shoulder to reach Echo. I step aside and look at Echo with an apologetic face.
"And who are you? You're beautiful, on my God." Mom grabs Echo's shoulders and intensely looks at her. "Please tell me you're dating my son!"
I drop my head back, wanting to die at this very moment. "Mom, please."
She ignores me and waits for Echo's response. Echo glances at me, then at my mom, wide-eyed, and laughs briefly, shaking her head. "No, sorry, Brandon and I are just uh..." She avoids my eyes as I wonder what she'll call us. "We're just—"
"Awe, dammit," Mom interrupts, sighing disappointingly, turning to me and looking me up and down. "Why is she crying? It's not because of you, is it?"
Echo answers before I can. "No, it's not. I just had something in my eye."
Mom hums, believing her Lie.
I shake my head. "Wow, Mom, thanks for thinking the best of me," I say sarcastically.
My mom and I have always had a great relationship. We've always been super close with a bond some people will never have with theirs. As I got older, my mom became more like my best friend. There were always boundaries I couldn't cross and things that I couldn't say because she was my mom. Though, she was the first to know something exciting or something terrible. When I got my first kiss, she knew. I told her about the relationships I used to be in. I told her everything. Now with me living in New York, I don't see her as often as I used to. Clearly, that doesn't change anything about us, though.
She slaps my shoulder. "Go put a shirt on and tell me why you're sitting with a girl in my bathroom and scaring the shit out of me in the middle of the night." We follow her out of the bathroom and into the living room. "You know I almost killed you, right?"
"Yeah, Mom, we were terrified of that bat of yours." I glance at Echo, and she smiles, giggling. I'm glad she's finding this humorful.
"We went to the cabin to check out the renovations you did," I tell her as I plop down on the couch. Echo sits beside me silently. "Then it started raining, and we were going to drive back to the city, but my car ran out of gas, and now here we are."
Mom, in her pink nightgown, paces the room. My mom's only forty, so she's much more understanding regarding her children. She had me when she was only nineteen years old—then had my sisters at ages twenty-six and thirty. All from the same man. There're some pluses to having a young mom. You don't have to worry about her health all that much. Though, I wouldn't say she's the healthiest person in the world. She damn near inhales wine.
Mom sits across from us and sighs. "Long night for you two then, huh?"
Echo and I nod. "I was gonna ask you if we could stay here for the night—"
"Bullshit," Mom laughs. "No, you weren't." She waves me off. "But yes, you can. Does the pretty woman here need extra clothes? You look drenched."
"Her name is Echo, Mom."
Mom smiles at Echo and goes in to hug her. "Welcome, Echo."
Echo hugs her back, saying thank you for allowing her to stay. I never doubted my mom would care if we stayed. I know she finds it suspicious that I've brought a girl to the house. I've never brought someone to my mom's house.
Echo and I make our way upstairs to get ready for bed. Mom told me to get Echo a pair of my clothes in my old room and to put a shirt on again before she went to her room to go to sleep.
Echo and I stand outside my old bedroom door, and just as I'm about to turn the knob, I hear Mom's voice from her room down the hall. "Keep it quiet tonight!"
I sigh. I'm going to kill her.
Echo's head tilts, her lips twisting. "What does she mean? Like arguing? I'm not mad about the car..."
I shake my head at her. Sometimes it seems Echo puts on a stern face and tough persona when she is filled with innocence. "Don't pay her no mind.
I open my door and enter the room I spent so much time in. Memories flood my head, so many hard times I've shared with the four walls surrounding us.
Posters of my favorite albums and bands hang on the wall. A lava lamp casts a small light in the room, sitting on the nightstand beside my bed in the far corner. It's just how I left it after graduating high school a few years back. I pace the room, walk to my desk, pick up the signed football on a stand, and turn around to see Echo grazing her fingers along the narrow bookshelf on the other side.
Before grabbing her attention, I watch her look at each spine, reading the titles on each shelf until she finds one she likes. She gasps softly and pulls it out, turning to me.
"Brandon, I didn't know you—"
She gets started when she realizes I'm already staring at her, and I clear my throat, rubbing my eyes. Embarrassed. Smooth, Brandon. My eyes rake her some more. Like that'll change her view of me. Stupid fuck.
She slowly continues her sentence. "I didn't know you read."
I wiggle my head in unsureness. "Yes and no," I answer. "I used to, but I don't anymore with the little free time I have. If you want... you can take whatever you find interesting from there."
She smiles contently and nods. "Thanks."
I only nod, smiling back.
I walk to my closet and grab a shirt, putting on a pair of gray sweatpants and a sweater for Echo. I give them to her, and she twists her lips.
"These are yours?" She questions, slowly taking the clothes in hand. I nod. "You don't have any of your sisters' clothes here?"
"My sister's clothes would be too small for you; they're young, remember?"
She seems almost shy now. I'm not sure why she didn't come to me as a shy person when I first met her at Happies. She blatantly tried to fight me, but now she's hiding behind the two curls loose over her face curtaining her. Her shoulders aren't straight, and her eyes have difficulty staying on mine. Tell me what is on your mind, Echo. I don't say that because if she wanted to tell me, she would.
"I could ask my mom if she has many clothes, but I'm just gonna warn you I have no idea how what those clothes have seen—"
Echo's face scrunches up, and she shakes her head. "It's fine; I don't want to wake her again for something stupid."
She takes the clothes out of the room and to the bathroom. While she's gone, I take a deep breath, feeling like I haven't been able to breathe while in her company. She makes me aware of every move I make. Worried that I might fuck up and make her push away. I want whatever this is between me and her, whether just a friendship, to stay.
I pull the comforter off the bed for her, grab a few pillows for myself and a blanket from my closet, and set up a makeshift bed beside where Echo will sleep.
Echo comes back from the bathroom wearing my clothes, and my heart races at the sight of her. Her hair sits in a curly bun, loose strands messily framing her bare face. My clothes are too big for her, so she cuffed the bottom a few times. My sweater nearly engulfs her. The sight is sickening. It makes my stomach turn from how cute it is.
What was I thinking about bringing her here to sleep? I can't do this. I thought I could handle seeing her in my clothes, I hadn't known her for three weeks, yet she affected me like no other woman had ever.
I rub my face.
"Are you sleeping on the floor?" she asks me, looking at the blankets under my feet.
I nod. "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't want me lying with you. I don't mind; it's only for one night."
She looks at me for a few seconds, then at the bed, and only wants towards it, not answering. She gets in the bed, pulls the blanket over herself so that only her head is visible, and lays facing me.
I smile. "Do you need anything else?"
She shakes her head.
All right then.
It looks like something is worrying her. The way she's quiet and timid suddenly. It's probably because she's sleeping somewhere she has never slept with someone she doesn't even call her friend.
I chose to leave her be, hoping giving her some space would show her I meant no harm.
I turn the lights off before lying on the floor and pulling the blanket over me.
On my back, staring at the ceiling, I eventually close my eyes.
But I don't fall asleep.
I can't. Not when the soft sound of Echo's sobs fills the room.