Echo, p.1
Echo, page 1
Echo
Nana Malone
Contents
1. Echo
2. Cole
3. Cole
4. Echo
5. Cole
6. Echo
7. Cole
8. Echo
9. Cole
10. Echo
11. Cole
12. Echo
13. Cole
14. Cole
15. Echo
16. Cole
17. Echo
18. Cole
19. Echo
20. Cole
21. Echo
22. Cole
23. Echo
24. Echo
25. Echo
26. Echo
Epilogue
Also from Nana Malone
1
Echo
I looked down at the letter in my hands for the millionth time. You can do this.
I’d already memorized every word of the acceptance letter, but couldn’t help checking it once more, just to be sure I wasn’t dreaming.
My application to San Diego Design and Fashion had been accepted. I’d received the letter last week, and I still couldn’t believe it was happening. I hadn’t dared apply for a design degree for undergrad, as they had no athletics department at any of the design schools. And everyone would have flipped out. But how would they take it now?
I could hardly wait to enroll in my classes, shop for supplies. I’d need to find a place closer to campus, of course… But first, I’d need to tell my family. Any other family would be thrilled I was going to graduate school. Not mine, though. Sports was the family business. But I wanted no part of it.
As I trembled, the paper made a rustling sound in my hand. I stood outside my father’s library, trying to force myself to take that step through the doors and deliver the speech I’d been practicing for days. I was going to explain that while I appreciated everything they’d done for me over the years, driving me to meets, the tutors when I needed them to help keep my grades up, the fact that they sat through every one of my races, I had other dreams for myself. Wait, had it been ‘other’ or ‘more’?
Come on. Rip off the bandage and don’t let anything they say stop you from taking charge of your own life and future.
“Are you coming or going, Echo?” my father’s voice called from where he was seated behind his desk. “We can see you hovering in the crack of the doorway.” My mother stood just behind him, a hand on his shoulder, as they both read through some paperwork.
Now or never. I pushed the door open.
“I’m—I wanted to talk to you. Both of you, actually.” I spoke up, stepping forward. In my life, a lot of things came easily, but speaking up for myself wasn’t one of them.
“Oh, good.” My mother said. “We had been hoping to find a moment alone to discuss something with you, as well.”
My brow furrowed as I stepped forward and refolded my acceptance letter. My father sighed as Mom squeezed his shoulder.
“There’s something we’ve been keeping from you and the boys,” he began carefully. “It’s nothing you should be worried about, and that’s part of why we haven’t said anything to you sooner.”
I frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked. I’d known something was off with Dad for a while.
“I’ve been feeling…under the weather for some time now. I’d been putting off going to the doctor for a while, trying to make adjustments myself to my diet, and exercising more again,” he said, holding my gaze.
“We figured the stress from Bryce’s wedding was making things worse, and once it was over, he would improve,” my mother added. “But it’s been a while now…”
“And there’s been no improvement,” Dad finished. “I went to my primary care guy, but he can’t seem to find anything to explain it, so he wants me to have tests run and see a few specialists. I can’t even imagine how many pills they’re going to make me swallow, or scans of things I’m going to have to lie still for, and it’ll probably turn out to be something simple, like a vitamin imbalance,” he continued. His assertions sounded less like genuine frustration and more like wishful thinking. I couldn’t tell whether he was trying to reassure me or himself that everything would turn out fine.
“So…you want me to tell the others?” I asked, unsure how to respond or what to say. My stomach knotted. What if everything wasn’t okay? There was no way I could leave home. And did they expect me to have to break that kind of news to the guys?
“No,” they both insisted, with a synchronized calm that gave me a chill.
“I don’t want to tell everyone until we have something concrete to say,” my father insisted. “No need worrying everyone, when it’ll probably turn out to be nothing.”
Just me, I thought. I’m the only one who’s allowed to worry with them. The weight of that knowledge rooted me to the spot, as if a pile of rubble had landed on me.
“What we need you to help with, is making sure they don’t start to suspect anything until we know there is actually something to worry about. The last thing we want is for any of them to get distracted. Bryce and Tami deserve to enjoy being married for a while, and Dax has been doing so well this season. And you know how he is. One little thing could derail him. Sure, he has Asha, but still. Fox is, well, he’s always focused on getting into the majors. As for Gage, he’s having a fantastic senior year, but picking where to go next year for college isn’t going to be easy. I don’t want him to be thinking about anything but keeping those grades up and his basketball season.” My mother nodded from behind her husband’s chair.
I looked down. Of course. The boys. All with professional careers and the accompanying pressures. More important. I was disappointed, but not entirely surprised, that they couldn’t think of any reason why I might not need that kind of responsibility or distraction.
I winced at the thought. I was being selfish. My parents came to me because they trusted me, valued me, needed me. My father needed me.
They didn’t think of it as a burden. And they didn’t know about design school, because I hadn’t told them. I had applied secretly. Hell, I’d always kept my sketches hidden, assuming they wouldn’t approve. I only had myself to blame on that front. But still, forcing me to hold on to this knowledge was too much to ask.
“It isn’t that we want you to lie to anyone,” my mother insisted. “But if you can drive Gage to and from practice every now and then if he has car problems, or just keep an eye on things around the house, deal with the cook and cleaning service people when I can’t, help arrange the company functions. Those kinds of things. It will be a huge weight off our shoulders.”
And onto mine.
“As things progress and we figure out what is going on, we’ll get a better idea of what exactly we’ll need from you. We know we can rely on you. We always have, and you’ve never let us down.” Mom smiled with a pride that sent warmth through me. “You have no idea the relief you are. That we know how well you handle yourself.”
“And we know that this is going to inconvenience you and affect your training,” Dad continued. “The Olympics has always been something we wanted to help you with when the time came, and we think you’re ready, so we’ve hired a coach for you. He’s young, and looking to build his reputation, but he’s promising and dedicated. He’ll be able to adjust to all our needs in a way that older and more experienced coaches might not be willing or able. We’ll be meeting with him next week, and you’ll start your training immediately.”
Oh, right. That little thing. The other thing I’d been avoiding telling them. I didn’t want to go to the Olympics. But really, who in the Coulter family ever said such a thing?
“We don’t want you to lose whatever momentum you’ve built up on your own, but we figure it will help you out to have someone like him to take care of you,” Mom agreed. “We don’t want you to have to worry about anything we can help you with. We’ll pay for whatever he says you need, or whatever you feel you need, to get you on that podium.”
I stood, blinking, uncertainty keeping me from opening my mouth. I wanted to scream, but knew that wouldn’t be appropriate. They needed me, and they knew they were imposing, so they were doing what they could to make up for it. I appreciated the gesture, but the Olympics… It wasn’t something I’d ever been particularly enthusiastic about. That was Gramps’ dream. Their dream. Not mine. Yes, I could run, but it hadn’t been my passion. Just a gift.
Gramps was the one who always brought it up, telling anyone and everyone that someday I’d follow in his footsteps and represent our country on the world stage. He loved the fact that he was known internationally for having competed in the Olympic games. Though most people forgot that he hadn’t medaled. His romance with my grandmother and the role he played in her defection were why he was forever linked to the Olympics.
“Well, what do you think?” my mother asked. Both my parents were looking at me, waiting for me to say something. Something that wasn’t a scream.
“I’m sorry,” I stalled. “It’s…a lot to process.”
The acceptance letter crumpled in my hand as I gripped it tighter and tighter, as though letting go of the paper would mean letting go of my dream. It wasn’t what I wanted but it wasn’t as though my father wanted to be sick or wanted to get poked and prodded while the doctors figured out what was wrong with him. They needed me, and the last thing I wanted was for them to feel like I was abandoning them. And they were trying to make up for it with this coach, even if I’d rather they pay for supplies and classes.
“Just…let me know wh at you need and when you need it,” I said, slipping the acceptance letter behind my back and out of sight. “What matters most is that you get this all figured out and start feeling better.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Dad said with a warm smile. “We’ll take you to breakfast next Tuesday before we go to meet your new coach. No telling what kind of diet he’ll put you on, so enjoy the bacon while you can.” He winked and I fought for a smile even when the waiting tears made my eyes sting.
“I’m guessing you’re the one who’s going to need to worry about dull diets,” I tried to joke. “Anyway, I’ll…uh…I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? You’re not going to be home for dinner?” Mom asked with a furrowed brow.
“No, I’m staying over at Jen’s tonight,” I stammered over the lie. “It’s…what I wanted to tell you when I came in.”
“All right, honey. We’ll see you tomorrow, then.” My mother smiled.
“Yeah,” I responded with a half-assed wave, and walked carefully out of the room.
I headed for my bedroom, pulling my cell phone out to text Jen and let her know I was coming over. I only just managed to hold back the tears until I was safely inside. I knew I needed to keep moving, otherwise I’d become an immobile, crying heap on the floor, so I grabbed a duffel bag and began throwing some clothes and overnight things into it. While I packed, I pushed my mind to think of anything but the things that could be wrong with my father.
Cancer? An undiagnosed heart condition? Something less dangerous or more manageable, like a recently developed allergy or an autoimmune disorder?
The bag fell to the carpet with a dull thud as I slipped to the floor, pulling my knees towards my chest. The numbness that filled me expanded, until I felt like I could explode at any minute. Like I just needed to run. If I ran, I didn’t have to think. It was my escape. Trapped between emotional extremes, between my parents and my dreams, between who I’d always been and who I wanted to be, I just needed a break. To just be Echo for a night, not a Coulter. Or maybe even be someone else.
My phone vibrated in my pocket with a message from Jen. Come over.
2
Cole
I stared at the offer letter on my laptop. Holy shit, it had actually happened. When I’d put feelers out, looking for a coaching position, I’d never really expected any bites. For starters, I was young as hell. I figured I’d get some assistant coaching position at a university or high school, even. Not something like this.
The biggest sports dynasty in the history of America wanted to hire me. Fuck. You got what you asked for, and now you don’t want it?
“What the hell are you staring at?”
I glanced up to glare at my little brother, Alex. Alex was starting his junior year at university of Virginia and had really taken advantage when I said come by any time. He was always here. Cleaning out the fridge. And using the washing machine.
I complained often. It was what big brothers did, but I actually loved it. Since our parents were gone, it was up to me to look after Alex.
And while Alex had an on-campus job, I had insisted he focus on school, and not try to work too much while doing classes. Which left me to make the college payments. A job with the Coulters would take care of Alex’s tuition and extras for the next two years.
Only problem was, it was a job with the Coulters. Everyone knew the story of Rory and his son, Brent. Then there were the sports legacy kids. There was a plethora of information on the web about them.
The most prominent among them being Bryce and Dax, of course. One of the younger brothers, Fox, also made himself known from time to time. And even the youngest, Gage, posted impressive high school stats.
But it was the middle child I had been contacted about coaching… Echo Coulter. From her stats and blurry high school footage, she wasn’t bad. She had it in her to be good, but she never seemed to hit her full potential. In college, more of the same. She’d always been just shy of being NCAA champ. Given the footage I’d seen, of the mile and two-mile competitions, she was running distances that were too long.
She had great numbers from the 400 and 800, but there was no film footage of her for those races. I was tempted to do some more Internet searching for more information about her, but the last thing I wanted to see were any of her potential exploits running around town. Those things would only piss me off if I had to coach her.
“Alex, put the beer back.” My brother rolled his eyes as I continued. “So, you know how I said I was looking for another coaching gig?”
“Yeah, you get one at one of those fancy prep schools near DC?”
I shook my head. “No. I got a gig a lot farther away, in San Diego.”
Alex froze in the doorway of the open fridge for a moment, then turned to face me. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
I braced myself. I didn’t want Alex to think I was abandoning him. Our parents had both passed away three years ago, and it had hit the two of us pretty hard. “Look if you need me, I won’t take it. I know we got to stick together. But we wouldn’t need you to work at all if I did this.”
Alex blinked at me. Then again. “Dude, San Diego? I’m coming to visit. I’m thrilled. I mean, I’m gonna have to figure out the feeding myself thing, but that’s fucking awesome.”
I bit back a smile. I was tempted to admonish Alex for his language, but whatever. The kid would be legally drinking soon. “You’re sure? I know after Mom and Dad—”
Alex didn’t let me finish. “Yo, I know you love me and shit. You gave up your life to come out here with me and look after me. It’s more than I could ask for. Take the damn job. And besides, I need to escape the winter breaks out here. Bikini girls, here I come.”
Alex might have made a joke of it, but I heard what he wasn’t saying. He wanted me to have my own life. “I’ll be back for all my breaks and stuff. Oh, yeah. One more thing. Your grades slip, I’m coming straight back, you hear me?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “You are my brother, and the best one I could have had. Now, go find yourself a scantily clad girlfriend. Preferably one with a younger, college-age sister.”
I just rolled my eyes. Looked like I was moving to San Diego. Bring on the rich and spoiled.
Echo
* * *
Jen opened the door before I even had a chance to knock.
“Get inside and tell me everything,” she urged, pulling me into her apartment.
“First, I need you to swear you won’t say anything I’m about to tell you to anyone. Especially my brothers. And yes, that includes Bryce,” I begged, moving to Jen’s couch and dropping the duffel bag to the floor before flopping lengthwise onto the unforgiving piece of furniture. Jen’s hyper-modern style looked great, but wasn’t very comfortable.
Jen cocked her head. “Seriously?”
I held a finger up. “Swear it.”
“Fine,” Jen sighed before dropping into a chair on the other side of the coffee table and crossing her heart with her fingers. “I swear. Now, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that you didn’t tell them about design school…?”
I pressed a finger to my nose. “Someone give this girl a cookie.”
“So what happened?”
Too emotionally raw to tiptoe around it, I blurted out, “My dad is sick.” Jen gasped, and I did what I always did—tried to reassure her, wishing everything I said would make myself feel better, too. “He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, so he’s going to have all kinds of tests run, and he and Mom want me to help them keep my brothers in the dark about the whole thing. My grandparents, too, I think. I forgot to ask whether they know or not.”
“That’s… I’m so sorry, Echo.”
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