Page 11 of First Echo
MADELINE
F our hours, six minutes, and twenty-three seconds.
That's how long I sat next to Brooke Winters on that bus without speaking a single word to her.
Not that I was counting or anything. The silence between us was.
.. weird. Not uncomfortable exactly, but charged with something I couldn't quite name.
Every now and then, our elbows would brush against each other when the bus hit a bump in the road, and I'd feel this strange jolt, like static electricity.
I spent the entire ride pretending to be asleep, or staring out the window, or scrolling mindlessly through my phone. Anything to avoid having to acknowledge her presence beside me. What was I supposed to say, anyway?
Sorry I was a bitch during our tutoring session? Sorry I asked why you don't have friends? Yeah, no. Madeline Hayes doesn't apologize, especially not to someone like Brooke Winters.
Besides, she didn't seem interested in talking either.
The second I sat down, she put her AirPods back in and turned up her music so loud I could faintly hear it from where I sat.
I couldn't make out what she was listening to, but it definitely wasn't the kind of mainstream pop that Victoria and Audrey obsessed over.
Every so often, I'd catch her tapping her fingers against her thigh to the beat, her eyes closed, completely lost in whatever she was hearing.
I tried not to notice how peaceful she looked in those moments, how the tension seemed to drain from her face, softening the sharp edges of her usual guarded expression.
It was annoying how she could just tune everything out like that, how she didn't seem to care what anyone thought of her.
I've spent my entire life carefully curating what people think of me, and here was Brooke Winters, not giving a single damn.
At some point, I must have dozed off, because suddenly the bus was slowing down, and Mr. Sinclair was standing at the front, announcing our arrival.
I blinked, disoriented, and realized with horror that my head had been leaning against the window at an awkward angle.
My neck ached, and I could feel a patch of drool at the corner of my mouth.
Great . I quickly wiped it away, praying that Brooke hadn't noticed.
When I glanced over at her, she was already gathering her things, her back partially turned to me.
Her hair had fallen forward, obscuring her face, so I couldn't tell if she'd seen my embarrassing nap posture or not.
She didn't say anything, just stood up as soon as the bus came to a complete stop, waiting for her turn to file out into the aisle.
The resort was exactly what I'd expected—a sprawling timber and stone structure nestled at the base of the mountain, surrounded by pristine snow and towering pine trees.
It looked like something out of a winter postcard, complete with icicles hanging from the eaves and smoke curling from the chimney.
Not as luxurious as the private chalets my family usually stayed in, but decent enough, I suppose.
As we trudged through the snow toward the entrance, luggage and equipment in tow, I could see Julian and Sam up ahead, already laughing about something, their breath forming small clouds in the cold air.
Victoria was walking with Sophie and Audrey, all three huddled together for warmth—or more likely, to share some juicy gossip.
I found myself at the back of the group, a few paces behind Brooke, who moved with surprising confidence for someone so small, her snowboard tucked under one arm.
The lobby was warm and inviting, with a massive stone fireplace dominating one wall and comfortable leather couches scattered throughout.
The ceilings were high, supported by exposed wooden beams, and antler chandeliers hung at intervals, casting a golden glow over everything.
It smelled like pine and cinnamon and something else I couldn't quite identify, something distinctly "mountain. "
Mr. Sinclair and the other chaperones gathered us all in the center of the lobby, standing on an ornate rug that depicted various wildlife scenes. We formed a loose circle around them, dropping our bags at our feet, everyone eager to get settled in and hit the slopes.
"Alright, everyone," Mr. Sinclair announced, his voice echoing slightly in the large space. "We've got twenty-four students and twelve rooms. You'll be sharing, two to a room."
A chorus of groans erupted from various corners of the group. Typical. Some people just can't handle not having their own space for a few days.
"I know, I know," Mr. Sinclair continued, holding up his hands to silence the complaints. "But that's how it is. Now, before we hand out keys, I need you all to pair up. Choose your roommate, and then come up to get your key."
Julian immediately threw his arm around Sam's shoulders. "Dibs on this guy," he said with a grin, and Sam laughed, giving him a playful shove.
I felt a tiny pang in my chest, watching them.
I'd automatically assumed Sam would room with me, even though I knew that wasn't realistic.
Boys and girls couldn't share rooms on school trips—that was rule number one.
Still, seeing him so easily pair off with my brother made me feel.
.. what? Jealous? Left out? It was stupid.
Victoria appeared at my side in an instant, looping her arm through mine. "We're rooming together, right?" she asked, her voice pitched high with fake sweetness. Before I could even respond, she had already started pulling me toward the front desk where the teachers were distributing keys.
I glanced around the lobby, taking stock of who was pairing with whom. Sophie and Audrey had already linked arms, whispering excitedly about something. Most of the other students had quickly formed their pairs, leaving just a few stragglers—including Brooke.
She stood a bit apart from everyone else, her gaze fixed on something outside the large picture windows.
Her expression was difficult to read, but there was a tension in her shoulders that hadn't been there before.
As the lobby cleared out, with pairs of students heading toward their rooms, she remained rooted to the spot, fidgeting with the straps of her backpack.
No one wants to room with her , I realized with a sudden clarity that made my stomach twist uncomfortably. It wasn't surprised exactly—Brooke wasn't exactly Miss Popularity—but seeing her standing there alone while everyone else had paired off hit me in a way I wasn't expecting.
Victoria tugged on my arm, pulling me forward. "Come on, Mads. Let's get our key before we end up with a room facing the parking lot."
But I couldn't look away from Brooke. Something about the set of her jaw, the forced casualness in her posture as she pretended not to care that she was the odd one out, struck a chord with me.
A strange feeling washed over me, something I couldn't quite identify.
Was it guilt? Pity? I didn't think I was capable of feeling sorry for anyone, especially not someone like Brooke Winters.
I didn't care about people outside my circle.
I didn't care about anyone except Sam, really.
So why did I suddenly feel so... responsible?
"Actually," I said, pulling my arm free from Victoria's grip, "I think I'm going to room with Brooke."
Victoria stared at me like I'd just announced I was dropping out of school to join the circus.
"What?" she hissed, her eyes narrowing to slits. "You're joking, right? Her ?"
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though my heart was racing for some reason.
”Yeah, why not? It could be... interesting."
" Interesting ?" Victoria repeated, her voice rising an octave. "Have you lost your mind, Madeline? She's a total nobody. She doesn't even talk to anyone."
I felt a flash of irritation at Victoria's words. Yes, Brooke was quiet and kept to herself, but "nobody" seemed harsh, even by my standards. "Well, maybe that's the point," I said coolly. "At least she won't talk my ear off all night."
Victoria's face flushed an angry red. "Wow, okay. I see how it is." She crossed her arms over her chest, her acrylic nails tapping against her forearm in rapid succession.
"Fine. Room with the freak. See if I care."
"Don't be so dramatic, Vic," I said, rolling my eyes. "It's just for a few nights."
Without waiting for her response, I walked away, heading toward Brooke, who was now pretending to be deeply interested in a brochure about the resort's amenities. As I approached, she looked up, her brown eyes widening slightly in surprise.
"Looks like we're roommates," I announced, without preamble. I tried to sound casual, like this was the most normal thing in the world, me choosing to room with her instead of my actual friends.
Her eyebrows shot up, nearly disappearing beneath her bangs. "What? Why?" The confusion in her voice was almost comical.
"Because Victoria snores like a chainsaw," I lied, shrugging like it was no big deal. "And I need my beauty sleep."
Brooke stared at me for a long moment, like she was trying to solve a complex math problem.
I could practically see the wheels turning in her head, trying to figure out my angle.
Finally, a flicker of understanding crossed her face, followed quickly by something that looked almost like gratitude—though she tried to hide it beneath a layer of suspicion.
She knew I'd seen her standing alone. She knew I'd stepped in to save her from the embarrassment of being the only person without a roommate. The realization that I'd done something kind for her seemed to both relieve and confuse her.
"Uh, thanks, I guess," she mumbled, adjusting her beanie nervously. "But you really don't have to—"
"It's done," I cut her off, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. The last thing I needed was for her to think I actually cared about her feelings or something.