BooksBarbecue
Back Full Throttle
Chapters (22)
  1. Title Page
  2. Dedication
  3. Contents
  4. Introduction
  5. Throttle
  6. Dark Carousel
  7. Wolverton Station
  8. By the Silver Water of Lake Champlain
  9. Faun
  10. Late Returns
  11. All I Care About Is You
  12. Thumbprint
  13. The Devil on the Staircase
  14. Twittering from the Circus of the Dead
  15. Mums
  16. In the Tall Grass
  17. You Are Released
  18. Story Notes and Acknowledgments
  19. About the Author
  20. Also by Joe Hill
  21. Copyright
  22. About the Publisher

The moment it’s out of her mouth, she doesn’t know why she said it, wishes she could unSEND.

No. She knows why she said it. Because it feels good to act like she’s still one of them. That she has everything they have and always will. That she isn’t falling behind.

AMY P: I HOPE YOU GOT AN “OPHELIA” BECAUSE IT WILL MAKE JOYCE JEALOUS AND I LIKE TO WATCH JOYCE FAKE-SMILE AT PEOPLE WHEN SHE’S MISERABLE.

The Ophelia has been out for just two months and might’ve been too expensive even when her father was making tokens by the shovel-load in the Murdergame.

“It probably won’t be the Ophelia,” Iris says, then immediately wishes she could rephrase.

JOYCE B: THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH A BASIC “GIRL NEXT DOOR.” THAT’S WHAT AMY HAS AND I’M NOT EMBARRASSED TO GO OUT WITH HER. I’M NOT PROUD, BUT I’M NOT EMBARRASSED.

AMY P: WHATEVER IT IS, YOU’RE FREE BY 2100, BECAUSE YOUR MOM ALREADY SAID YOU’LL MEET US AT THE SOUTH ENTRANCE TO THE CARNIVALS. I MESSAGED WITH HER THIS MORNING. SO GO HOME AND SCARF CAKE AND UNWRAP YOUR SEXY NEW FACE AND GET READY TO MEET US.

JOYCE B: IF YOU DO GET AN “OPHELIA,” I WANT TO WEAR IT FOR AT LEAST A LITTLE WHILE, BECAUSE I COULDN’T BEAR IT IF YOU WERE MORE AMAZING THAN ME.

“I could never be more amazing than you,” Iris says, and Joyce and Amy disconnect.

Below her another cannon-train booms past.

4.

The disaster happens two-thirds of the way across the overpass.

The Monowheel is lightweight but big, bigger than she is, and walking it home is awkward business. It’s a drunken giant who keeps leaning on her or trying to sit down in the road. She leans in to guide it with a hand on the control stick, her other hand clutching the aquaball to her side. The overpass has a gentle arch to it and the ’wheel wants to speed up as soon as she’s on the downward slope. She jogs to keep up with it, huffing for breath. It tilts toward her. The inner chrome hoop bangs her head. She makes a little sound of pain, lifts her free hand to press a palm to the hurt place, only to remember she doesn’t have a free hand. The aquaball slips free and strikes the sidewalk with a glassy crack!

Good, she thinks. Smash.