Read Online Freefall by Anna Levine - Free Book Online Page A

my head, but there are parts of me that no one’s going to ever control. Are you coming?” She says to me.
    â€œI’m right behind you.”
    â€œDon’t stand too close.”
    As we start walking, I hear movement behind me.
    Soon eight of us are tiptoeing away from the camp, down the hill, trying not to crunch too loudly in our boots. We scout the area for the most secure terrain.
    â€œYou three stand guard first,” says Argentina.
    â€œWhy me?” says Sonya. “Why don’t you stand guard first with Lily and the skinny girl?”
    â€œMy name is Aggie,” I say. “And it was my idea to begin with.”
    â€œI’ll guard first instead of Sonya,” says Lily. “Just do it quickly, okay? I’m dying here.”
    Facing the ravine we unzip and crouch.
    â€œAll clear.”
    We switch. I keep an eye out. “Done?”
    â€œDone.”
    â€œDone.”
    â€œDone.”
    Turning around, we tiptoe back up to camp, the mood a lot lighter. The others crawl into their sleeping bags. I slide between the shirts, sweaters, sheets, and pillowcases that were tossed my way.
    â€œAre you okay Sugarpear?” asks Lily.
    â€œJust me and the stars, but yeah, I’m okay.”
    â€œHear oh Israel—”
    Sonya groans. “Hey, how am I supposed to sleep with that racket?”
    â€œI’m praying for us,” says Noga.
    â€œPray for yourself. Preferably in silence.”
    â€œI was only going to ask Him to watch over us.”
    Sonya mutters something.
    â€œJust because you don’t believe,” says Amber with a slur that can come only from a dental retainer, “doesn’t mean you should be disrespectful.”
    â€œThanks, Mom.”
    No one answers.
    Argentina’s raspy smoker’s laugh is impossible not to recognize.
    Then someone else joins in. Soon we’re all laughing.
    â€œWe should get some sleep,” says Pigtails. “Or we won’t be laughing much tomorrow.”
    â€œGood night, Noga,” says Sonya. She pauses. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” says Noga. “It’s all in the stars.”
    Rolling onto my back, I peer out through the flap up at the stars. The sky seems so vast and far away. We must appear so little and insignificant from above. Who knows?
    For now, I’m trying to think of all the right reasons to be here—but only the superficial ones come to mind.
    If I make it through, Grandma will have something to boast about to her friends.
    If I make it through, Mom—well, Mom will go berserk.
    If I make it through, Dad will be impressed.
    Hila will realize she’s not the only one who fights for what she wants.
    Ben and Ron will think it’s sexy.
    Shira will think it’s dangerous and crazy, and that I’m out of my mind.
    And Noah. If he were even to stop and think about it, he’d probably want to know how many constellations I saw.
    saw.
    â€œBig Dipper,” I whisper, pointing at the sky.
    â€œAre you sure?” he’ll quiz me.
    I’ll explain to him how Grandma taught me to stargaze. After dinner on warm summer evenings she’d point out the Big Dipper, see if I could locate the northern star, and then she’d always have a word to add.
    â€œAggie, baby, remember that though we are small, nothing in this universe is insignificant. One drop of water can’t create a flood. One grain of sand doesn’t make a dam and one star can’t form a constellation, but without the one, there would be none.”
    I whisper into the stuffed bunny’s ear, adding, “And one soldier doesn’t make an army.”
    Curling up with my knees to my chest, I try to conserve body heat. Sleep seems almost impossible …but just as I start to drift off, I am wrenched back with a shove on the shoulder and a cold burst of air as the sweater is yanked right off of