Bindings Read Free Page A

felt around and found his glasses. Luckily, they weren’t broken. Tim’s ribs twinged where someone’s knees had connected with them. He felt trampled. He stood up and felt worse. He saw that Molly had stopped running and witnessed the entire fiasco.
    â€œBrilliant,” he muttered, “just brilliant.” He started to jog. He planned to run toward the others, to prove he wasn’t a complete wimp and weakling. But instead, he bypassed the knot of players in the scrimmage and kept going. He picked up speed and tore out of the schoolyard.
    â€œHunter!” he heard his gym teacher, Coach Michelson, shout behind him. “Hunter! Where do you think you’re going?”
    Tim ignored him, ignored everything. It was all just a blur as his feet pounded the pavement.
    What is wrong with me? Tim admonished himself. I am such a loser. How can I possibly be this powerful magician that the entire universe is after, when I can’t hold my own on the bloody schoolyard?No wonder Yo-yo abandoned me.
    Footfall after footfall, the running jangled his bruised body, but it felt good, as if he were landing punches on an unseen adversary—and that enemy was his own confusion. He felt like he would explode out of his skin.
    This change, this magic event, this was big. Too big for him to sit still, too big to play stupid football, too big to explain to anyone. Even to Molly.
    His breaths were ragged now. He couldn’t slow down, couldn’t stop running. His chest hurt, but he didn’t stop. The pain was real —it made sense. It wasn’t like that magic stuff. Run hard, breathe hard. Logic. His thoughts were now taking on the rhythm of his feet. Fairy Queens? Magic keys? Past worlds? Tim stopped and grabbed a lamppost, bending over and panting. How can that have happened to me? How could it have happened to anyone?
    He slid down and sat on the pavement, leaning against the lamppost, sweat pouring down his face. He knew he’d feel chilled soon, sweating in the cold December air, but he didn’t care.
    No one would believe me. Not even Molly. And I don’t want her to think I’ve gone completely mad. I need her to be my friend. And she wouldn’t be friends with a raving loon. Well , he thought getting to his feet, she probably would . She wouldn’t drop someonejust because he deserved to be committed, not Molly. But Tim didn’t want a friend who cared for him only because she felt sorry for him. He did want someone to confide in, but how could he tell anyone about an experience for which he couldn’t find the words?
    Tim glanced around to get his bearings, then laughed. He’d run all the way home. He’d gone the long way, past the boarded-up shops and behind the parking garage. He had added about fifteen blocks to the route, but now his home in Ravenknoll Estates was just a few streets over. He might as well go there.
    If he told her, Molly might think it was all just a dream, Tim thought as he slowly walked up to his front door. He had trouble believing it was not a dream himself. He had met Merlin, back in the time of King Arthur. He had traveled to America with John Constantine in no time at all, literally. Of course it sounded like a dream.
    Then he paused. Only it wasn’t a dream .
    Tim slogged up to the door, then realized his keys were in his jacket in his locker back at school.
    Great. He wouldn’t be able to sneak in, hoping his distracted, depressed father wouldn’t notice. He’d have to knock and explain himself. Well, today already stunk. Why not let it stink worse?
    He knocked. He heard the television blaring from the living room, then noticed the curtain in the front window move.
    His father opened the door. “Tim?”
    Father and son looked at each other. Tim saw his dad’s fleshy face, his thinning hair, the paunch his cardigan stretched over, the missing button. Tim wondered what his dad saw looking at him. Tim figured