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

When he says a moment, he literally means a moment, because I’ve barely had time to take in the massive mirror and dark, intricately carved headboard before he’s back with a stack of clothes.

“You may shower if you’d like. Maverick will come for you when dinner is ready,” he tells me, then pulls the door closed behind him. Dinner, I think, my stomach waking up with a soft grumble. How long had it been since I’d eaten?

I watch the door for a second, then carry the clothes to the bed. In the pile, I find a few different options: a pair of sweatpants, a pair of jeans, and some dark leggings. I also find a large, solid blue t-shirt and a gray and pink striped shirt. I stare at the striped shirt for a minute, an odd thought forming in my mind. Don’t I have one like this at home? I try to remember it. It’s the same one, but I hadn’t seen it since… May? Maybe?

I realize with a start that this might be my shirt. Have I been here before?

I shake the thought away, snatching the pair of sweatpants off the bed. I hesitate for a second, then grab the striped shirt, too.

After I shower, I’m too anxious to sit around in my room waiting, so I decide to explore. I peek my head out into the hallway, and when I’m sure no one is there, I walk towards the staircase Jacob had led me up earlier. When I get to the first floor, I turn left, the opposite direction we’d come from. I quickly realize that the house forms a rectangular shape, surrounding the pool in the middle.

As I’m wandering down the hallway aimlessly, I’m about to round a corner when I hear footsteps just on the other side of it. I don’t want anyone to think I’m snooping, so I whip around and dart into the closest room, shutting the door without a sound. I wait behind it for a second, and when the footsteps pass by without stopping, I let out a breath. Then I turn and look at the room I’m in.

It’s dark, so I feel along the wall for a light switch, and when I flip it, two lamps come on in opposite corners of the room. It’s an office space, with a wall of bookshelves lining one side and windows covered in thick, dark curtains on the other. There’s a desk in front of one bookshelf and a fireplace on the wall opposite of it. The desk is empty except for a small lamp, a few pens, and a notepad.

The fireplace’s mantel is covered in a variety of decorations, so I walk over to get a closer look. There are some decorative candles, a mini globe, some fake flowers, and a framed photo. I almost skim over the photo, but it catches my eye just in time.

My jaw tenses.

The photo is of me standing on a patch of grass in front of a line of trees, with Maverick next to me. He’s got his arm around me, and he’s kissing my cheek while I smile at the camera. I lift the picture and stare at it for a long moment, then reach my hand up to touch my cheek, the same spot his lips are touching in the picture.

I’ve barely had time to process what I’m looking at when the door creaks open behind me. I hurry to set the photo down where it was and turn around. Maverick stands in the doorway, looking past me at the photo. After a moment, he meets my gaze.

Neither of us knows what to say.

“I need you to tell me—”

“I think we should—” we both start at the same time.

Maverick takes in a breath. “You go first,” he says.

I don’t hesitate. “I need you to tell me who you are.”

He pauses, then takes a step forward, watching me carefully. “You don’t remember me, then?”

“No,” I say. He drops his gaze.

“I’m… Maverick,” he says slowly.

“I know your name,” I reply.

“What else do you know?” he asks, searching my eyes.

“I don’t know for sure.”

“That’s okay,” he says, taking another step closer to me. I put a hand up.

“Stay back,” I say—a little too harshly, but it stops him in his tracks. I stare at him, watching every movement. I’d heard echoes of myself talking to him, I’d listened to what the worker at Coffee and Cream had said, and now I’d seen a picture of us together. And yet, I still can’t seem to believe my eyes.

He’s taller than me, but not by much. He wears a black long-sleeved shirt that shows off his sturdy, toned frame and his hair is much longer than it was in the photo of us, nearly touching his wide hazel eyes.

We study each other for a long time until he finally asks, “What do you remember?”

I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. When I open them, I have to blink away tears. “Remembering and knowing are two very different things for me right now,” I tell him.

He keeps his gaze on me but doesn’t respond. I don’t know how to explain to him what’s going on. That I know who he is and what we were, because I heard it happening, but I don’t remember any of it. I’m not sure there’s even a good way to explain it. What if I’m wrong? What if he doesn’t know me, and everything in the echoes was just in my head?

I take a deep, shaky breath. “This is going to sound crazy,” I tell him.

I don’t want to continue, but Maverick’s eyes fix on me, never wavering. They pull the words right out of me.

“I have this… ability,” I start, then pause. “I hear things.” I haven’t told anyone about this