Prairie Fire Read Online Free

torture-by-physio involved one of those child-friendly rug hooking kits you can buy at Canadian Tire. I think this one was supposed to be a butterfly, but Dr. Madison had taken the pattern out because she knew that if she gave me details to focus on, I’d never actually get anything done. It was still very frustrating though, and by the time Sadie called at seven o’clock, I was really bored.
    â€œThere’s two hours of daylight left,” Sadie said, once I’d managed to get my phone answered. It was an awkward process, and I missed the days when I could just pick up the landline, but I guess progress is progress. “Please come and rescue us from calculus.”
    â€œHave I mentioned lately how glad I am that I am not taking that class?” I asked, already on the way to the door.
    â€œYeah, shut up,” she said, laughing.
    â€œI’ll be there in a few minutes,” I said. “I’m sure my keys are around here somewhere.”
    I slipped into a pair of flats that were very impractical for anything that might end in dragon slaying, but laces vexed me more than lakus these days. I retrieved my keys from the bottom of my purse with some effort. It was still really easy to forget that when I threw something somewhere, retrieving it was going to be awkward. For the first week after my bandages had come off, when I couldn’t open, close, turn, or manipulate anything smaller than a loaf of bread, I’d done a lot of angry crying when I thought no one was looking. Now I just pretended that I was on camera all the time, which helped me keep it together.
    Driving, mercifully, hadn’t changed much. I mean, I drove with all the bad habits that would have made my driving instructor despair—palming the wheel, leaving one hand on the shift, failing to check the rearview mirror for dragons as often as I should—but I did it. By the time I pulled into Sadie’s driveway, I was feeling relatively normal.

    Owen was not allowed in Sadie’s bedroom, which all three of us thought was both hilarious, because it’s not like they couldn’t manage mischief elsewhere, and insulting, because it’s not like Sadie didn’t have some pretty elaborate plans for the future. If I was along, they could go upstairs, but since we spent most of our time in the backyard trying to hit each other with sticks, the point was moot.
    I found them hunched over the coffee table, calculus notes everywhere. Sadie was pretty much guaranteed an A at this point, but Owen needed to pass the exam to maintain his B–, so they spent a lot of time studying.
    â€œOh, thank goodness,” said Sadie, though she must have heard me pull in. After a close encounter with a lakus back in March, my poor car had developed an unhealthy-sounding rumble that had thus far eluded my mechanic. My parents had offered to replace it, but we’d been through a lot together, that car and I, and I was kind of attached to its ugliness.
    â€œWhat do you want to do?” I asked. “I’ve just moved down another handle size, so I’m not going to be good for sparring right now.”
    â€œActually, we wanted to talk,” Owen said. “About Basic.”
    I took a seat. I was kind of relieved that we wouldn’t be practicing. Hannah and Dr. Madison had cooked up this plan where I would start with an oversized handle on my sword, and then they would gradually take me back down to a regularly proportioned one again. Every time we changed, it was like learning to hold the stupid thing all over again.
    â€œOkay,” I said. “Did Lottie tell you anything new?”
    â€œNo,” Owen said. “We’re just worried about you.”
    I looked at my hands. You spend a lot of time looking at your hands, I’ve discovered, when you want to avoid something. It’s more awkward when your hands are what you’re trying to avoid.
    Emily had put in hours of research. Lottie had