Echoes by Marissa Lete (best books for students to read txt) 📕

in the right place,” Dad adds. Then I hear the plastic bags shuffling, the fridge opening and closing, and the sounds of food preparation beginning.

Mom and Dad must have both known about Maverick, too. But they don’t seem to remember anything about him, either. Do they? How could someone exist in the echoes of the past, yet no one from the present has any clue about them? No me, not my parents, not even Penny or Tony, who he supposedly worked with. No one seems to know who he was…

Except for that girl at Coffee and Cream. She seemed to recognize me and might have remembered Maverick. But I’m not sure if that was solid evidence or just her mistaking me for someone else.

For the rest of the afternoon, I listen to the echoes of dinner being made while I work. Mom comes home while I’m deep in focus, more on the echoes than my homework. She sets two giant bags of candy down on the counter, then walks into her office without saying another word.

Then, around four-thirty, the echo I’ve been waiting for appears. The front door opens, then closes, and a moment later I hear my own voice in the kitchen.

“It smells delicious in here!”

“Hey, guys!” Mom’s echo replies.

“Well, well, well. It’s about time you showed up here again,” Dad’s echo adds.

“Hello, Mr. Jones. How are you doing?” Maverick’s voice appears, just across the room from where I sit now.

“Oh, just fine. And you?” Dad replies. I imagine a handshake ensuing.

“Good, thanks. Do you need help with anything?” Maverick asks.

“No, no! We’ll take care of it, you two just have a seat!” Mom replies.

“I am a cook over at Louise’s, Mrs. Jones, so it’s no problem, really,” he adds from by the sink.

“You could chop these tomatoes for me if you want to?” Dad offers.

“No, no. Don’t even listen to him! Jeff could use the practice, anyway,” Mom throws in, laughing. After a few beats, she asks, “How is your Mom doing? I still think it was so sweet of her to bring over those flowers. Is she busy tonight? She’s welcome to join us for dinner, of course!”

“She’s volunteering for her school’s trunk-or-treat tonight. She teaches Kindergarten over at Lakefield Elementary.”

“Oh, how sweet! We’ll just have to catch her next time, then.”

“Definitely,” Maverick replies, then adds, “Are you sure you don’t want some help with that?”

“Oh, Jeff! I said slice, not mash. Maybe I should let Maverick do this,” Mom laughs.

“I agree,” Dad replies.

“On it,” Maverick replies. I hear a drawer opening, then the faucet running again.

“So you’re a cook at the diner, huh?” Dad starts, his voice on the other side of the counter now. “Do you plan to work there for a while?”

“For now, yeah,” Maverick answers, and I hear the sound of a knife cutting through what sounds like lettuce. “I’m taking a couple of classes at the community college right now while I finish my high school credits through a homeschool program. I hope to get into State next year.” It’s the same college I’d been looking into. Grace wanted me to go there with her and be roommates, but I’m not entirely sure I want to go to college, a place where thousands of students have been through for years. Maybe online school is the best route for me.

“That’s nice! What do you want to study?” Dad’s echo asks.

“For undergrad? Biology, probably. I eventually want to specialize in neuroscience, though.”

“Neuroscience! Wow, how’d you decide on that one?” Dad sounds shocked.

“I’m just… fascinated with how our brains work, I guess.”

“Interesting,” Dad replies. “So what’s your Dad up to, then?”

There’s an awkward pause until Mom finally speaks up. “You don’t have to answer that. Jeff—”

“No, it’s okay,” Maverick jumps in. “My Dad isn’t around. I never really knew him.”

“I am so sorry, Maverick. Jeff is just really… interested in getting to know you. He didn’t mean to bring up anything painful,” Mom says hurriedly.

Maverick laughs, though. “It’s okay. I think you have a right to know more about your own daughter’s boyfriend.”

There’s a pause, and then my own voice echoes from the other side of the kitchen. It surprises me because I’d almost forgotten that this entire conversation is an echo and that I’m not actually seeing it unfold in the present. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?” I hear myself ask.

“Maybe because we’re all wondering if you’re going to correct my use of the word boyfriend, or if you’re going to finally let it go,” Maverick answers. The room fills with laughter.

“You know, I think I’m starting to like this kid,” Dad says, chuckling.

The conversation continues, and I listen, hoping to catch some chunk of information that might help me in my search for answers. Dad starts telling stories about some of the crazy things he did with his friends when he was in high school, and then Mom makes small talk, careful to avoid anything that may be too personal, I notice.

Around six o’clock, I hear the front door opening today, and Dad enters the kitchen carrying a shopping bag. He looks at the two bags of Halloween candy on the counter, then down at the bag in his hands.

“Kara,” he calls to my Mom. She enters the kitchen, eyeing the bag in his hand as she does. I hear the echoes of the past around the table laughing at the same time.

“You bought some too, didn’t you?” Mom asks, just after I hear her echo say, “Well we’d better start cleaning up before the trick-or-treaters make their appearance.”

Dad of the present sighs. “I guess I’m just going to have to eat it all,” he says, and I strain to hear the echoes over him. There’s the sound of kitchen chairs