Free Before Wings by Beth Goobie

their private conversations. Surrounded and alone, Adrien waited for Darcie’s manic whistle, then headed onto the range with the other archers. Her first two arrows were easy to find, but the third would be difficult—the feathers that identified her set of arrows were green. Adrien went through the gate at the back of the range and pushed into the green shrubbery. Had her dumb green arrow gone high or low when it zoomed over the fence? Had it disappeared into this green bunch of leaves or that green bunch? She could hear staff pulling their arrows out of the targets and making jokes aboutbeing reincarnated as Robin Hood. “Get this,” proclaimed one guy. “Robin Hood gets reincarnated as me .” Boos and hisses accompanied this comment. Adrien pushed further into the greenery. Darcie had been adamant about returning with all three arrows. They were expensive to replace, and it taught responsibility . Grumpily, Adrien pushed through mosquitoes and poison ivy until her responsible foot knocked against the missing arrow. With her incredible skill and accuracy, she had managed to hit the ground twice. As she bent down to pull it out, she saw a yellow arrow embedded nearby. Feeling doubly responsible, she pulled them both out, then returned to the exit door at the south end of the range and pushed it open.
    Arrows were coming straight at her. With a scream, Adrien ducked behind the nearest straw bale. An arrow thudded into the other side, and she jerked back. Her heart thudded, the whole world squeezed in and out of darkness; she could hear whimpering sounds and a far-off whistle. Then the air grew oddly quiet. There was the sound of running footsteps, and Darcie stepped behind the bale.
    “You all right?” She was breathing heavily. “Grouch, did you get hit?”
    Adrien crouched close to the ground, arms tight around herself. She couldn’t stop shaking, even when Darcie knelt and hugged her. Everyone had been shooting at her. Everyone had been shooting at her .
    “Some safety procedures,” she hissed.
    “It was an accident,” said Darcie. “You took so long, I forgot you were out there.”
    “My group didn’t have their arrows. They knew I wasout there. Why didn’t they say something?”
    Darcie’s perfume was suffocating. Adrien wanted to pull away but couldn’t. Not yet.
    “I don’t know,” Darcie said uncomfortably, “but I’m the one in charge. I’m the one who let them shoot. It was an accident. I’m sorry, Grouch. I really am.”
    Darcie’s apology was absolute and so was her hug. Safe and warm inside that hug, Adrien still couldn’t stop thinking about Connor. While she was out looking for her lost arrow, he had rotated to the front of his line for a second round. In that split second before Adrien had realized there were three loaded bows pointed in her direction, she had gotten a clear glimpse of his smirk. He had just caught sight of her coming through the south exit door, and was shifting his bow from a target to her face.
    It took Aunt Erin two seconds to notice the scrape on her niece’s upper arm. “You get that at the range?” she asked immediately.
    Adrien picked up the till to carry it out to Tuck’n Tack for staff candy hour. “Get what?”
    She refused to think about the range. Huge hollow caves still echoed in her knees and gut. Aunt Erin came over and ran her finger over the scrape.
    “Ow!” Adrien hissed.
    “Arrow burn,” said her aunt. “How’d this happen?”
    “It didn’t,” said Adrien. “All right?”
    Aunt Erin’s voice was loaded. “You put down that till and talk.”
    Suddenly, holding onto the till took on overwhelming significance. Adrien stared rigidly out the screen door. Clouds were building over the lake. “I bumped into a tree branch while I was looking for an arrow. I didn’t even notice my arm until you poked it.”
    She kept seeing Connor’s smirk. If she told, Darcie was the one who would get into trouble, not him. It hadn’t been