Dangerous by Shannon Hale Read Free Book Online

me like a force.
    How had I made myself so fragile?
    “This,” he said, gesturing between the two of us, “was a
    mistake. I wasn’t planning on flying off into the sunset with you
    or anything, so let’s not get tacky about it, okay?”
    What?
    The troupe of blond girls bobbed up to tell him “Con-
    grats!” Wilder put his arm around the nearest and pulled her
    Dangerous
    closer, whispering something. His lips brushed her earlobe. She
    blushed and giggled.
    For the rest of the day I felt like I’d been hit by a train, car-
    toon birds twittering around my head. I’d just gotten the best
    news of my life, but I was wasting it moping after an asinine boy.
    We rushed from the medic to supplies to suit fitting. At din-
    nertime we ate the cafeteria food on leather sofas in Dr. Howell’s
    office—malibu chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, peach
    cobbler. Wilder was a dead space in my periphery. Did all boys
    turn weirdo-zombie after kissing a girl? Had I done something
    wrong? I should have stuck to my plan—work toward becoming
    an astronaut, eschew emotions, become Maisie Robot.
    When Bonnie Howell asked if we had any questions, I
    jumped in.
    “How did you get the Speetle to work on liquid hydro-
    gen?” I asked, referring to the spacecraft Howell Aerospace had
    launched years before the Beanstalk.
    “Speetle?”
    “The...uh, the Space Beetle. I’ve been calling it the Speetle
    in my head. By the way, I’m surprised you don’t shorten Howell
    Aeronautics Lab to HAL.”
    She sniffed. “I will now. Anyhow, you wouldn’t understand
    if I told you.”
    “I might,” I said.
    She obliged me with an explanation that had me lost by
    the first sentence. Howell had hazel eyes, neither warm nor
    cold, but they pierced me.
    She’s not just a crazy old bat, I thought. She’s scary-smart.
    “We should wrap this up, Dragon. I want the fireteam back
    here at 0500.” And she bounced out of the room.
    45
    Shannon Hale
    “Good night, um, Dr. Howell,” I said.
    “Everyone just calls her Howell,” said Dragon.
    “Like she’s some cool teenage boy?” I said. I glanced at
    Wilder and wished I hadn’t said “cool.”
    Dragon escorted us to small private bedrooms, mine next
    to Wilder’s. I locked my door and fell into bed. I could hear
    Wilder moving around for a long time, so I didn’t move at all. I
    wanted to be soundless, invisible.
    I woke with a jolt, terrified I’d overslept, but the clock read
    3:14 a.m. My heart was pounding. No chance I was getting back
    to sleep.
    The luxury of having my own shower made everything
    feel hopeful, the heat scraping the lack of sleep from my skin,
    yelling at my muscles to wake up. I was an hour early, but I
    headed to Howell’s office. It felt closer to midnight than dawn.
    My nerves danced on dagger shoes.
    Someone was singing. I stopped, peeking in the door.
    Dragon, his back to me, was doing paperwork and singing opera
    in a faux soprano. I couldn’t believe that squeaky voice came
    from such a massive, muscular body. And most surprisingly, he
    wasn’t horrible.
    He saw me and stopped. “Busted,” he said, laughing a
    bouncy, high laugh. “Don’t tell anyone and spoil my formidable
    image?”
    I zipped my lips. “Dr. Barnes, can I borrow a phone? I
    want to let my parents know about the trip.”
    “It’s too early to call, but they signed a release form with
    your initial registration, so everything’s set.”
    When the others arrived, we took a van to Howell’s private
    airstrip. Wilder claimed one of the comfy leather seats in the
    46
    Dangerous
    back of the jet, so I sat in front.
    Jacques leaped aboard, shouting, “Cry havoc!”“Why do
    you always say that?” asked Mi-sun.
    “It’s an old military command, instructing soldiers to pil-
    lage and generally make chaos,” he said. “Besides, it sounds
    kicky.”
    Ruth snorted.
    Two days ago, I couldn’t have imagined regretting those
    eight kisses. The first one that lasted seven heartbeats,