Before Wings Read Online Free PDF

skin.
    Rain poured steadily, the cabin roof and walls a shell of sound. The scent of spruce had sharpened and the air felt deeper, heavier. Hunger hit her in slow waves. How was she going to face Paul? Would he tell anyone? If only she had thought to sneak some Smarties, she wouldn’t have to eat lunch with Aunt Erin and her fan club. Miserably she pulled on a sweater, dry jeans and a raincoat, and headed through the dripping trees to the dining hall.
    Predictably, Paul and the two core staff were grouped around Aunt Erin at one of the tables reserved for skills and maintenance staff, while the rest of the dining hall sat empty. Adrien remembered staring at staff tables with a camper’s awe, imagining every aspect of the archery instructor’s romance with the lifeguard. Back then, staff had seemed like fallen angels—prone to sin, but presiding over Camp Lakeshore with heavy wings. She had never realized they were just older versions of herself. Now she would be sitting at one of those tables and some fifth-grade weenie would fall in love with her. The whole thing was an enormous scam. Adrien dragged a tray along the serving counter and received her dump of macaroni, lime Jell-O, cucumber salad and a glass of milk.
    “You’re lucky,” remonstrated a hairnet, waving herserving ladle. “We almost went back to where we came from, waiting for you to arrive.”
    A hot flush oozed across Adrien’s face. Silently, she reached for a slice of bread.
    “You’re missing your smile,” teased another hairnet. “But Paul here—he’s always got a smile for those who feed him, doesn’t he?”
    Adrien glanced behind herself to see Paul handing his plate over the counter for seconds. Suddenly she was brushed with the memory of his weight pressing her down while lightning tore at the sky, but in this vision electricity shot into their mouths—they were breathing white fire. The image faded, leaving her open-mouthed, not sure if she had made a sound. The hairnets were still babbling about Paul’s smile, but she had a feeling he had picked up on something. Maybe the electric current. Well, he better not misinterpret it—she wasn’t a weenie camper anymore. Adrien picked up her tray and scuffed toward the chattering table. There was an empty space next to Aunt Erin where Paul obviously belonged, so she sat at the opposite end where things would be quieter, less subject to electric visions and unreasonable heartbeats.
    Rain pounded the roof. Lightning laced the sky, followed almost immediately by thunder so loud it seemed to rise out of the ground. No one reacted. Aunt Erin made a comment and the core staff laughed. They looked married, as in recently. Adrien glanced at the woman’s hands and noticed an engagement ring. No wonder they liked Aunt Erin—they were in a state of premarital bliss.
    Paul slid his plate onto the table across from her. “Passmy milk and cutlery,” he called through yet another volley of laughter.
    Faces turned in their direction, eyes flicked between them, an eyebrow lifted. “Getting a head start, Paul?” asked the groom-to-be, a tall skinny guy with a black cowboy hat.
    Careful as a curler, Aunt Erin slid Paul’s knife, fork and glass of milk down the middle of the table, then returned to her macaroni without giving her niece a glance. Adrien felt as if her face had been erased, as if she didn’t exist, as if she had died. Suddenly she hated her aunt. The feeling was like two hands grabbing her stomach and twisting it.
    “Are you Adrien?” The young woman with the engagement ring leaned closer. She was plump, with dark shoulder-length hair. “I’m Gwen and this is my fiancé, Guy. I remember when you were seven years old, building your first fire with tiny little twigs for your Campfire badge.”
    “Oh yeah.” Adrien didn’t like strangers remembering things about her that she couldn’t remember herself. And Paul was watching her again. She could feel his sixth sense scanning the air