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    Blind Curve: Acura Integra
    Blind Curve: Acura Integra
    Blind Curve: Acura Integra
    Ebook63 pages26 minutes

    Blind Curve: Acura Integra

    By Elizabeth Karre

    2/5

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    About this ebook

    An Acura Integra has been in Penny's family's garage for years. Now, after countless hours of work, Penny and her brother have turned the Acura into fine-tuned street-racing machine. But just as Penny's ready to show off her ride—and her driving skills—a car that looks suspiciously like her beloved Integra is involved in a brutal hit-and-run that nearly kills a classmate. Did her own brother cross the center line?

    Includes real tech specs and tuning details for the Acura Integra!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLerner Publishing
    Release dateAug 1, 2013
    ISBN9781467733526
    Blind Curve: Acura Integra

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    Reviews for Blind Curve

    2/5

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    • 2/5
      Quick easy read. Meant to grab attention of teens that hate to read but needs to do a book report. Part of a series that stands alone and features fast cars.

    Book preview

    Blind Curve - Elizabeth Karre

    (mobi)

    What’s going on? I yell. No one answers.

    I stand on tiptoe to see over the heads of all the kids pushing and talking right outside the school doors. I’m a short girl. I can’t see anything except flashing red and blue lights.

    A loud siren makes me jump. An ambulance speeds off down Lexington.

    I tap a girl in front of me.

    What happened?

    She looks worried. Someone got hurt.

    Before I can ask more, my phone buzzes. It’s Pakou.

    Bad news. Come bus stop.

    I see her waiting as I run across the street, barely looking for cars.

    Watch out! she yells in Hmong. She looks sick.

    What? What? I say.

    She grabs my arm. You didn’t even look—you could get hit. She starts to cry. I saw it, I saw it all. They came flying down the street, racing. Kids were messing around. Somebody got pushed into the street and he got hit, hit by one of the racers. But they didn’t stop. I couldn’t even call 911, I was so scared. And the ambulance was here so fast. But he must be hurt so bad. Or …

    I give her a hug. She’s shaking.

    But, Penny, that’s not the bad news, she says, wiping away tears. The bad part is that one of the cars looked just like yours.

    I don’t own a car. I take the bus to school, or my brothers might drive me if they’re feeling nice. I take the city bus when I go other places if my parents won’t give me a ride. I don’t even have a license yet. I’m seventeen, but nobody in my family thinks it’s worth the money and hassle for me to take driver’s ed. It’s easier to get a license when you’re eighteen.

    But I do drive sometimes, and I do have a car. A 1999 Acura Integra. I just don’t own it. Yet.

    The car’s in my brother Bee’s name. I found it online, and he took me to see it. He paid for it and signed the papers. But we both know it’s mine. I’m paying for it by doing his homework.

    The Teg’s a garage queen right now. She wasn’t in good shape when we got her, and there’s a lot I want to mod. And it takes me a while to get money for each part we buy.

    Part of me wishes that she’d never be finished. The time Bee and I spend working on her is the best. But he’s determined to have her ready for my eighteenth birthday. And I know no car is ever truly finished. But I just have a feeling that our time together will be over once he says the car is done.

    We do take the Teg out sometimes. That’s when I drive. Bee and my oldest brother, Toua, even made a video one time of me driving up and down our street, testing the exhaust. They’re laughing and yelling, Penny breakin’ the law, breakin’ the law! so loud you can hardly hear the car. Then they posted it on YouTube.

    If my parents ever found out, I’d be dead. But there are a lot of things my parents don’t know about their kids. Anyway, the Integra mostly stays in the garage.

    When I get home, I go straight to the garage. The Teg’s there, next to my mom’s minivan. The hood is open and the work light is hanging over it.

    I put my hand on the engine. It’s sparkling clean, like always. It feels warm. From driving? From the work light? I feel dizzy. My brain shuts down.

    No way was my brother Bee one of the racers. If he was driving the Teg, it was just to test

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