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The Gorge Bridge was terrifying. It was a steel monstrosity stretching over a deep, rocky river valley. The wind howled through the cables, shaking the metal platform where Elian stood. He was wearing a safety harness that felt too tight around his thighs. His heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his throat.
"I can't do this," Elian whispered, gripping the railing so hard his knuckles turned white. "I changed my mind. Let's go back. I'll be a Hot Dog again. I liked being a Hot Dog."
"Nope," Lyra said, popping a piece of gum. She was floating on the wrong side of the railing, right over the drop. "No refunds. You paid good money for this."
"I paid to die later, not today!" Elian argued. "Look at that rope! It looks like a giant rubber band. What if it snaps?"
"Then you die 20 days early," Lyra shrugged. "Same destination, faster route."
"You're terrible at pep talks," Elian groaned.
The instructor, a buff guy named Mike who didn't know he was talking to a ghost, clapped Elian on the shoulder. "You talking to yourself, buddy? Don't worry, nerves are normal. Just don't look down."
Elian immediately looked down. The river looked like a tiny blue thread. The rocks looked like teeth. His stomach did a backflip.
"I'm going to throw up," Elian announced.
"Do it while you fall!" Lyra cheered. "It'll look like a vomit comet!"
"Sir, are you ready?" Mike asked, checking the carabiners.
"No," Elian said. "Absolutely not."
"Great! On three!"
Elian panicked. He grabbed the railing tighter. This was exactly like the roof on the Axis Tower. The wind. The height. The fear. He froze. His legs locked up. He physically couldn't move.
"One!" Mike shouted.
"Lyra!" Elian yelped, looking at her with wide, terrified eyes. "I can't! I really can't!"
Lyra stopped floating. She saw the genuine panic in his eyes. This wasn't a joke anymore. She landed gently on the platform next to him. She leaned in close, ignoring the wind, ignoring the drop.
"Hey," she whispered. "Look at me."
Elian looked at her. Her eyes were bright and ancient, the only steady thing in a spinning world.
"You spent your whole life being scared of falling," she said softy. "Scared of failing tests. Scared of disappointing your parents. Scared of taking up space."
She put a cold, invisible hand on his cheek. The shock of the cold made him focus.
"You're already falling, Elian. The moment you were born, you started falling toward the end. You might as well enjoy the wind on the way down."
"Two!" Mike shouted.
Elian took a shaky breath. She was right. He was a dead man walking. Why was he scared of a rope?
"Three!"
Elian didn't jump. Lyra grinned. "See you at the bottom." She shoved him.
"GO!" she screamed.
Elian flew off the platform. "I HATE YOUUUUUUUUU!!!"
The scream ripped out of his throat as gravity took hold. The world blurred. The wind roared in his ears like a jet engine. His stomach dropped out of his body.
He fell. And fell. And fell.
And then, right as the terror peaked, it broke. The fear vanished. It was replaced by a rush of pure, electric adrenaline. He wasn't heavy anymore. He wasn't the burden in his parents' house. He wasn't the invisible boy in the hallway. He was a missile. He was flying.
He opened his eyes. The river was rushing up to meet him.
And right next to him, falling headfirst in a perfect dive, was Lyra.
She wasn't just watching him. She was falling with him. She turned her head. Her hair was whipping wildly around her face. She was laughing, a wild, crystalline sound that cut through the wind. She looked at him and reached out her hand.
"SCREAM, COWARD!" she shouted over the wind. "LET IT OUT!"
Elian looked at her. He reached his hand out toward hers. They couldn't touch, but for a second, they were falling in sync. Elian opened his mouth. He didn't scream in fear. He screamed in triumph. A loud, raw, guttural roar that emptied his lungs of eighteen years of silence.
"WAAAAHOOOOOOOOO!"
The cord caught. SNAP. Elian jerked upward, bouncing back toward the sky. His stomach lurched again, but he was laughing. He was dangling upside down, spinning in the air, 200 feet above the ground.
"I did it!" Elian shouted to the rocks. "I did it!"
Lyra floated next to him, sitting on the air like it was a chair. She was grinning, her cheeks flushed with ghost-adrenaline. "See?" she said. "Not so bad."
Elian looked at her. He was hanging by a thread, blood rushing to his head, dizzy and terrified and ecstatic. "You pushed me," he accused, grinning like an idiot.
"You needed a push," she winked.
They bobbed there in the wind, the boy and the Reaper, suspended between the earth and the sky.
The Aftermath
Ten minutes later, Elian was lying on the grass near the riverbank. His legs were jelly. He couldn't stand up even if he wanted to. Lyra lay on the grass next to him, looking up at the clouds.
"That," Elian breathed, staring at the sky, "was the craziest thing I have ever done."
"You did good," Lyra said. "You didn't vomit. I'm proud."
Elian turned his head to look at her. She looked peaceful here, lying in the grass. "Did you feel it?" Elian asked.
"Feel what?"
"The fall," Elian said. "You said you wanted to feel the wind. Did you?"
Lyra went quiet. She held up her hand, looking at the sunlight passing through it. "I felt it because you felt it," she whispered. "Reapers don't get adrenaline. We're static. But... when you screamed? I felt a little spark."
She turned to look at him. "Thanks for the spark, Elian."
Elian's heart did a weird flip that had nothing to do with the bungee cord. He realized she wasn't just dragging him along for her entertainment. She was living vicariously through him. He was her connection to the world she had lost.
"Anytime," Elian whispered.
He reached out and plucked a blade of grass. He tried to tuck it behind her ear. His fingers passed through her hair, but he pretended the grass stayed there. Lyra smiled, touching her ear as if she could feel it.
"Come on, Adrenaline Junkie," she said softly. "Let's go get some noodles."