Free Haunted Things by Abigail Boyd

to show it. "I just had to show them they can't mess with us anymore."
    He pulls his arm off of me and goes to his car, opening the door. He gestures for me to get in the other side. "C'mon, it's getting late."
    I hesitate where I am, wrapping my coat sleeves over my freezing hands. Why am I so nervous? After all, this is just Oliver, and it was only a water gun. He's a little weird, but he's my friend, and I'm weird, too. He probably saved me from a hospital visit.
    Then why am I still so anxious?
    I clench my fists together. I push away my discomfort and get into the car with him, heading toward home.

CHAPTER 18
     
    "I don't even remember what my mom looks like," Oliver tells me as we reach the main street. I glance at him and he's frowning in concentration as he spins the steering wheel. "She's a junkie and she just dropped me off with my two bitchy, spinster aunts and rode off into the sunset. She hasn't once come to visit me, not since I was seven or eight years old. My memory of her face is just this blob on blurry shoulders now. For all I know, she's dead, too."
    I frown, shifting a little closer to the door. There's something in his tone, he's still as keyed up as he was in the parking lot.
    "That sucks," I mumble artlessly.
    He gives a choked laugh and presses his foot to the gas. I watch as the speedometer starts to rise.
    "Yeah, I'm used to it. She didn't even know who my sperm donor was. My aunts are my only family. They remind me that I'm a burden every damn day. One of these days, though, they're going to get what's coming to them."
    Every speeding beat of my heart asks me why I didn't find another way home. He weaves in and out of the spotty traffic, not slowing down.
    "Can you stop going so fast? Please?" I ask. He glances over at me and his face softens.
    He lets up on the gas and the car finally slows a little. I let out a deep breath and relax my death grip on the seat. But he still won't stop twitching beside me.
    "Your room is Seth's old room, right?" he asks randomly.
    "Yeah, sure." I stare out of the window, relieved that we're not far from home. "There were some old boxes and things of his upstairs."
    I glance at him, and curiosity flashes across his face. "What kind of things?"
    "Just odds and ends." He narrowly stops at a red light and I grit my teeth. "Nothing important."
    By the time he rolls up in my driveway, I'm ready to bolt from the car. He shuts the ignition off, reaches across me, and I shrink back against the seat as he pops open the glove compartment. He retrieves a small, plastic tube with white powder inside.
    "You want some?" he asks, nudging it toward me.
    I shake my head. "I'm not interested in a role in an after school special. I don't do that shit."
    "Whatever." He spills a little into the crook of his hand and plugs one nostril as he snorts dramatically. He rubs his nose furiously and when he looks at me again his pupils are cartoonishly blown. As he shuts the glove compartment, I catch a glimpse of something metallic in the back, but I can't see what it is.
    I undo the seatbelt and crack open the door as he picks up his phone.
    "Ash, hold up." But I'm already jiggling my keys apart and speeding to the porch. I glance over at him as he falls into step with me. It's late now and cold air nips at my cheeks.
    "My phone is dead, can I come inside and charge it?" he asks. "It'll only take me a minute."
    "I don't know," I hedge as anxious seconds tick by. I feel a drop of rain on my nose, and then it begins to spray down in earnest. We run to the cover of the porch, but I don't unlock the door.
    "What are you waiting for?" he asks impatiently.
    "My dad didn't want any visitors," I say. In truth, he didn't care. But a little voice is telling me not to let Oliver inside. Toy or no toy.
    The rain rolls down the porch's roof and falls in a curtain off the edges.
    "Oh, c'mon, Ash," Oliver says, rubbing his arms like he's cold despite his coat. "My aunts always lock the door and they won't