Read Online The Girl in Acid Park by Lauren Harris - Free Book Online
Authors: Lauren Harris
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Teen & Young Adult, Paranormal & Urban, Mysteries & Thrillers, Fantasy & Supernatural
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be, like, baseline. The low bar."
I know what I would have said to Hiroki in response, but I wasn't sure what to say to Jamie. I didn't know if he would appreciate a joke right then, to point out that we'd possibly just slipped to the serious side of being high--the part where everything seemed deep and meaningful and finger snapping was an acceptable method of agreement. Instead, I lifted my chin and looked at him, stretched forward across the gunmetal gray cab.
"My gratitude isn't up to you," I said. "You got me away from school. Whether this shit works or not," I waved my fingers to indicate the overgrown and rusting Acid Park around us, "it means something that you were willing to try. Thank you."
I lifted my eyebrows at him, leaning forward to indicate that, this time, I expected a fucking "you're welcome."
He noticed me looking and his mouth twitched toward a smile. He turned his head away like he was embarrassed to let me see it and goosebumps drew up on my skin. He shifted toward me, bumped my shoulder with his own. When he straightened back up again, he was little bit closer than he'd been before. That was good enough.
Cool night air bit at my arms, and I considered climbing down to get my jacket from the passenger's seat, but my head was starting to feel slightly balloonish. The low, oceanic rush of an oncoming car was a nice counterpart to the silence between Jamie and me, and as the breeze stirred up the bits of metal suspended from the air, the atonal ring of not-quite-wind-chimes made it all feel like a dream. I basked in the absence of anxiety and the presence of a contentment I hadn't known since before Aaron Nguyen's death.
Jamie stopped tapping his fingers. The oncoming car grew louder, followed by a squeak that might have been from the whirligig beside us. Jamie drew his hands back toward him and pushed himself to his full height, and the look on his face many my stomach drop--and not in a good way.
"What?"
"Do you... hear wind-chimes?" he asked.
"Yeah?" I said, and pointed at the neighboring tower. "There are..." I trailed off, because suddenly, I noticed the same thing he had. The rusting structures still standing among the trees were silent, unmoving sentinels, and though my arms were cold, no air moved across them.
No headlights broke through the trees. My throat went dry as I realized what I'd taken for the rush of an oncoming car was closer to the sound made by a large, metal fan spinning in the wind. My ears popped. On his next exhale, Jamie's glasses fogged.
And then Acid Park came to life around us.
Dozens of whirligigs faded into existence. Phantom headlights broke off ghostly trees long since cut down, and the tide of wind set the place off in a chorus of clangs. I heard the spinning rattle of a bicycle wheel, and what sounded like the slush of change in a tin can.
Jamie grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the side of the truck before I'd even had the chance to blink away the dazzling light.
Note to self: being high might make seeing ghosts easier, but it makes running an Olympic-level impossibility.
My feet hit the gravel, but I was numb and ungainly and I swung my arm for balance. I slapped Jamie across the chest with it. He pinned my forearm there, trying to keep me from falling over. I turned toward the back of the truck just as Jamie lunged for the driver's side door. We collided, rebounded, and grabbed each other for balance. There may have been some unintentional groping on his part. There was some intentional groping on mine.
I pushed Jamie toward the driver's side just as my knee gave an almighty twinge, reminding me that I'd sliced it open with glass. I staggered, and the second I did, the air thickened in front of me. I hit a solid wall of cold.
"Hide !" the voice was a shout, at whisper volume. Still, it was clear over the clang and squeaks of metal, the chuckle of wheels, and the crunch of very real tires turning off the highway.
Jamie and I turned together, and she
I know what I would have said to Hiroki in response, but I wasn't sure what to say to Jamie. I didn't know if he would appreciate a joke right then, to point out that we'd possibly just slipped to the serious side of being high--the part where everything seemed deep and meaningful and finger snapping was an acceptable method of agreement. Instead, I lifted my chin and looked at him, stretched forward across the gunmetal gray cab.
"My gratitude isn't up to you," I said. "You got me away from school. Whether this shit works or not," I waved my fingers to indicate the overgrown and rusting Acid Park around us, "it means something that you were willing to try. Thank you."
I lifted my eyebrows at him, leaning forward to indicate that, this time, I expected a fucking "you're welcome."
He noticed me looking and his mouth twitched toward a smile. He turned his head away like he was embarrassed to let me see it and goosebumps drew up on my skin. He shifted toward me, bumped my shoulder with his own. When he straightened back up again, he was little bit closer than he'd been before. That was good enough.
Cool night air bit at my arms, and I considered climbing down to get my jacket from the passenger's seat, but my head was starting to feel slightly balloonish. The low, oceanic rush of an oncoming car was a nice counterpart to the silence between Jamie and me, and as the breeze stirred up the bits of metal suspended from the air, the atonal ring of not-quite-wind-chimes made it all feel like a dream. I basked in the absence of anxiety and the presence of a contentment I hadn't known since before Aaron Nguyen's death.
Jamie stopped tapping his fingers. The oncoming car grew louder, followed by a squeak that might have been from the whirligig beside us. Jamie drew his hands back toward him and pushed himself to his full height, and the look on his face many my stomach drop--and not in a good way.
"What?"
"Do you... hear wind-chimes?" he asked.
"Yeah?" I said, and pointed at the neighboring tower. "There are..." I trailed off, because suddenly, I noticed the same thing he had. The rusting structures still standing among the trees were silent, unmoving sentinels, and though my arms were cold, no air moved across them.
No headlights broke through the trees. My throat went dry as I realized what I'd taken for the rush of an oncoming car was closer to the sound made by a large, metal fan spinning in the wind. My ears popped. On his next exhale, Jamie's glasses fogged.
And then Acid Park came to life around us.
Dozens of whirligigs faded into existence. Phantom headlights broke off ghostly trees long since cut down, and the tide of wind set the place off in a chorus of clangs. I heard the spinning rattle of a bicycle wheel, and what sounded like the slush of change in a tin can.
Jamie grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the side of the truck before I'd even had the chance to blink away the dazzling light.
Note to self: being high might make seeing ghosts easier, but it makes running an Olympic-level impossibility.
My feet hit the gravel, but I was numb and ungainly and I swung my arm for balance. I slapped Jamie across the chest with it. He pinned my forearm there, trying to keep me from falling over. I turned toward the back of the truck just as Jamie lunged for the driver's side door. We collided, rebounded, and grabbed each other for balance. There may have been some unintentional groping on his part. There was some intentional groping on mine.
I pushed Jamie toward the driver's side just as my knee gave an almighty twinge, reminding me that I'd sliced it open with glass. I staggered, and the second I did, the air thickened in front of me. I hit a solid wall of cold.
"Hide !" the voice was a shout, at whisper volume. Still, it was clear over the clang and squeaks of metal, the chuckle of wheels, and the crunch of very real tires turning off the highway.
Jamie and I turned together, and she
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