The Sign of Seven Trilogy Read Online Free PDF

breath.
    â€œIt’s still pretty warm but it…” He coughed once. “It hits the spot. Now you.”
    He passed the can to Fox. With a shrug, Fox took the can, mirrored Gage’s move. Everyone knew if there was anything close to a dare, Fox would jump at it. “Ugh. It tastes like piss.”
    â€œYou been drinking piss lately?”
    Fox snorted at Gage’s question and passed the can to Cal. “Your turn.”
    Cal studied the can. It wasn’t like a sip of beer would kill him or anything. So he sucked in a breath and swallowed some down.
    It made his stomach curl and his eyes water. He shoved the can back at Gage. “It does taste like piss.”
    â€œI guess people don’t drink it for how it tastes. It’s how it makes you feel.” Gage took another sip, because he wanted to know how it made him feel.
    They sat cross-legged in the circular clearing, knees bumping, passing the can from hand to hand.
    Cal’s stomach pitched, but it didn’t feel sick, not exactly. His head pitched, too, but it felt sort of goofy and fun. And the beer made his bladder full. When he stood, the whole world pitched and made him laugh helplessly as he staggered toward a tree.
    He unzipped, aimed toward the tree but the tree kept moving.
    Fox was struggling to light one of the cigarettes when Cal stumbled back. They passed that around the circle as well until Cal’s almost ten-year-old stomach revolted. He crawled off to sick it all up, crawled back, and just lay flat, closing his eyes and willing the world to go still again.
    He felt as if he were once again swimming in the pond, and being slowly pulled under.
    When he surfaced again it was nearly dusk.
    He eased up, hoping he wouldn’t be sick again. He felt a little hollow inside—belly and head—but not like he was going to puke. He saw Fox curled against the stone, sleeping. He crawled over on all fours for the thermos and as he washed the sick and beer out of his throat, he was never so grateful for his mother and her lemonade.
    Steadier, he rubbed his fingers on his eyes under his glasses, then spotted Gage sitting, staring at the tented wood of the campfire they’d yet to light.
    â€œâ€™Morning, Sally.”
    With a wan smile, Cal scooted over.
    â€œI don’t know how to light this thing. I figured it was about time to, but I needed a Boy Scout.”
    Cal took the book of matches Gage handed him, and set fire to several spots on the pile of dried leaves he’d arranged under the wood. “That should do it. Wind’s pretty still, and there’s nothing to catch in the clearing. We can keep feeding it when we need to, and just make sure we bury it before we go tomorrow.”
    â€œSmokey the Bear. You all right?”
    â€œYeah. I guess I threw most everything up.”
    â€œI shouldn’t have brought the beer.”
    Cal lifted a shoulder, glanced toward Fox. “We’re okay, and now we won’t have to wonder what it tastes like. We know it tastes like piss.”
    Gage laughed a little. “It didn’t make me feel mean.” He picked up a stick, poked at the little flames. “I wanted to know if it would, and I figured I could try it with you and Fox. You’re my best friends, so I could try it with you and see if it made me feel mean.”
    â€œHow did it make you feel?”
    â€œIt made my head hurt. It still does a little. I didn’t get sick like you, but I sorta wanted to. I went and got one of the Cokes and drank that. It felt better then. Why does he drink so goddamn much if it makes him feel like that?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Gage dropped his head on his knees. “He was crying when he went after me last night. Blubbering and crying the whole time he used the belt on me. Why would anybody want to feel like that?”
    Careful to avoid the welts on Gage’s back, Cal draped an arm over his shoulders. He wished he knew what