Turbulence [H.S. || A.U.]

Chapter 8

I burn out until it breaks me
Always sleep with one eye open
So would it kill you to be honest with yourself?
I'm not sticking around to find out

There are two things I miss about having a phone.

One being the ability to play music.

I love music.

The ability to play a song to enhance whatever you're feeling. To feel connected through lyrics. It's a powerful thing.

Maybe I can go out and buy some CDs or cassettes, and a boom box, to use while I'm without the luxury of Spotify. Most of what I like to listen to is older anyway, so I'm sure a thrift shop has some CDs and cassettes of albums I like.

The other thing I miss about having a phone, is the power of Google.

You can find out anything you need to know with just a few taps on a phone these days.

Technology has single handedly saved and destroyed the world.

But that explains why I am walking over to Harley's right now. I need to use good ole Google.

"What do you need this time?" Harley deadpans as she opens her door. "Pixie and I are in the middle of a very important tea party."

"Can I use your phone again?"

"You should really get yourself your own. Don't you think?" She retorts as she hands me her phone.

"Don't need one." I shrug.

"You needing to borrow mine every few days begs to differ."

I glance down at the phone to open the Google app before flicking my eyes up to her big blue ones. "As long as I can borrow yours when I need to, then I don't need one."

"Harley!" A younger voice shouts from inside her trailer. I hear some feet patter and soon see a little blonde girl appear to stand next to Harley. "Woah! You're a tall girl." The little girl, who I presume to be pixie, says as she looks up at me with a shocked facial expression.

I run my fingers through my long curls to push them out of my face as I squat down to be eye level with Pixie. "I'm not a girl."

"You have very long hair for a boy then."

"Yes I do, but I really like it."

"Can I touch it?" She asks. Not waiting for my response, she reaches out to start playing with my hair. "Soft." She says matter-of-factly.

I go back to my Google search for the nearest payphone and place I can buy a boom box as Pixie does whatever she is doing with my hair.

The burner phone I got died. And I don't want to buy another one for one phone call.

This is the last phone call I need to make for a while anyway.

I'm not going to use Harley's phone to make this call. It's too dangerous. Especially if any of this gets traced.